those-misfits

Seventeen things you have to learn for yourself
as a Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Questioning, Intersex, Asexual, Pansexual
or otherwise Queer youth
by the time you are seventeen.

One is that the first Pride was a riot
I don’t mean that it was full of laughter, or that it was some grand party
where everyone spiraled up to dance among the stars
because the only glittering that night
was broken glass on cobblestones.
The first Pride was a riot
on the backstreets of New York
and they never tell us
that night
we won.
The only protest
in a decade full of turmoil
where the cops had to hide out in the bar they raided
and run from shouting rioters
who fought to reclaim the only patch of ground they had ever claimed as theirs
the first Pride was a riot,

and two, around the same time it took place
it was a debated topic in the gay community
whether or not they should say
that they weren’t mentally ill

which, three, homosexuality was removed
from the American Psychiatric Association’s list of mental illnesses
in 1974
congratulations
all it took was a vote to declare that, whoops, we were never mentally ill

except, four, there are still teenagers being tortured today
in what some dare blaspheme as “therapy”
used to destroy their self-identity
in the hopes of making them normal.
except, four, the queer community still carries overwhelmingly high rates for poverty and homelessness and depression.

Did you know that, five,
over half the children forced into conversion therapy
commit suicide?

And six, that lesbians
were regarded as “hangers-on”
of the movement
by much of the gay community
before the AIDS crisis?

Because it turns out, seven can wear a rainbow on your shirt
and still be a bigot.
There are people who stick rainbows in their ears
or wear them on their fingers
or slap them across their cheeks in badges of defiance
and will still hate you for the color of your skin
or the size of your thighs
or your gender
or the way you like to kiss two or more genders
or none of the above.
Don’t ask me why this happens
it just does
I think it might be that we’ve all been taught to hate ourselves
for so damn long
that we don’t understand what to do
in a space with no hate.
Or maybe it’s that the space seems too small, because

eight, there are people who will tell you that you are not enough
that you do not reach the magical benchmark of “gay enough” to pass through the gate even
especially
when you are some flavor of the rainbow other than straight-out gay.
eight, this is bullshit
eight, those people are bullshit.
eight, you are enough.
eight, there is always enough room.

nine, there is no overarching “homosexual agenda”
sorry
we’re all kind of flailing along in here trying to figure out some way to make it work
when most of us have nothing in common
except that society looked at us in different ways and decided we didn’t fit
so we could all go be misfits together
under one big rainbow flag

but just so you know, ten, there are plenty of other flags
there is one for you, I promise

and eleven, misfits may not all need the same things
but we need to stick together, especially in a world where

twelve—refer to point seven—there are lesbians who hate other lesbians
for having the audacity to be born in a body
that everyone looked at and saw “boy”
which brings me to

thirteen, there is so much to understand.

fourteen, you need to understand
because we need to stick together
and to stick together we do not have to be the same but we do have to understand
and it will be hard because
you were probably thrown into this world with no warning because

fifteen, being queer is not genetic and we are not unique among minorities
in that we collect our heritage through broken bits of history and research in a world constantly working to make those misfit bits go away
but we are unique in that when we try to prove our legacy
we can be laughed down
or re-erased
or flat out ignored
but I swear to you
you have a history as old as Alexander the Great
as beautiful as Sappho
as dignified as Abraham Lincoln
and as proud as Eleanor Roosevelt.

But even with that behind us
sixteen,
they have always watched us die.
because even though the bystander effect is bullshit, sixteen
Kitty Genovese was a lesbian, sixteen
Ronald Reagan is a mass murderer, sixteen
our children, your brothers and sisters and  siblings of all stripes and all colors and sexualities and genders are being murdered
through neglect
and rejection
and hate.

Sixteen, there is an entire generation of gay and bisexual men
missing from history
because the government chose to do nothing
when they were dying by the thousands.
sixteen, we died from the disease and died from going back into the closet and died for staying there and died for coming out,
sixteen, they laughed at us because they believed god was punishing us for daring to love,
sixteen, ashes of your forerunners rest on the lawn of the White House because
SIXTEEN, THEY HAVE ALWAYS WATCHED US DIE.

SEVENTEEN
you are allowed
to be angry.
You do not have to be one of the nice gays
or one of the nice trans people
or sweet or kind or educate the rest of the world in something less than a yell
you are allowed to be so furious it scalds your bones
at the way we are forgotten
and passed over
at the way, as soon as June becomes July
we are expected
to go back to dying in silence
and mourning our dead
and kissing all alone
when no one can be offended
at the sight of us.
You are allowed to be angry
and scream down the stars
to shatter like broken glass at your feet
because you know what?
The first Pride
was a riot.

—  October 11
Bad Boy!Seungcheol

(so I have no idea what this is but enjoy? It’s strange but oh well! Requests are open!)


•it was your dream to become a doctor!
•at some age you had to stop idolizing them your mom thought
nope
•you were never a “normal” kid
•your nose was always stuck in a book, or you were looking up medical terms on the web
•if one of the kids in your class felt sick, before they went to the nurse, they went to you
•you’d tell them if they’d need a shot or other things
•and you were always right!
•for career day you chose to dress up as a doctor
•with a little blue scrubs your mom made
•with an actual stethoscope!!!
•for your birthday you asked for new medical books and a setof medical tools!
•you had a doctor themed party, where you played pin the lungs on the dummy
•(it was a strange party to attend)

•as you got older, your studies became more important
•you were the top of your class, whilst taking extra classes too
overachiever
•as the other kids got into drama and sports
•you were reading books about how to perform heart transplants and removing appendix
•your only close friend was a boy named Joshua who was in all your classes
•the other kids in the pa classes would complain that their parents were pushing them too hard
•while yours were begging you to chill
•so you pretended to be in a phase
•you dyed your hair a pastel pink and started to wear all black
•but you stayed on top of your studies without your parents knowing
•you’d sneak out of the house to go study
•that’s wear you met a bunch of delinquents
•they weren’t bad, they just had the mentality of ‘the world is against me’
•so there was Vernon, a boy who tried a little too hard and came off as dorky
•wonwoo, a quiet boy who liked to stand and read poems or Shakespeare aloud, who also squealed when shown pics of cats
•mingyu, when you first saw him he didn’t match with the group, he still doesn’t actually. The best way to describe him is “he doesn’t even go here.”
•and finally the leader of the mess, Seungcheol
•he always had a leather jacket on, had a lip ring and seemed to curse in every sentence
•but that’s who you hung out with when you snuck out
•even thought you were sneaking out you set a curfew for yourself
•you were home by three am
•since school began at eight
Sleep is for the weak

•so one night, you do your normal hopping out of the window and loudly stomp by your parents windows
•and begun the walk to the basketball court you guys hung out at
•your backpack was slowing you down since it was filled with books that you had promised to bring for Wonwoo
•but when you arrived it wasn’t the normal chill atmosphere, there was a group of teens arguing with the boys
•it wasn’t quite a full blown fight but it was getting worse
•so pretty much running over there, you pushed yourself to go quicker
•but as you arrived you saw the leader of the group swing at seungcheol
•boy was that a mistake
•once the hand swung, seungcheol sprang up and started fighting back
•Vernon following his lead and started to fight as well
•Wonwoo and mingyu were standing to the side watching the rest of the gang
•when you jumped the fence, you heard sirens
•the lights start to flash, and scared the group to try to run away
•which they were caught, but so were you guys
•because even though the basketball court was open, you guys were a “public disturbance”
•so guess where you were taken!!!!
•to another park where there was no noise limit!!
•lol no, to jail so your parents could pick you up
•IN THE SAME CELL AS THE OTHER GROUP THO???
•wtf dude
•but there all of you are, sitting down waiting for the inevitable
•and your parents are the first to come
•your mom walking in with her pajamas in, and signs you out
•and she brings you back home, but before sending you off to bed she warns you about the punishment you’re sure to get

•when you go to school the next day, everyone’s eyes are on you
•and Joshua takes your hand and pulls you to the quietest spot in high school
•"y/n! What the heck were you doing with those misfits? You can’t be with them, think about your dreams!“
•and that sets you off
•because while your dream is important so are your friends
•"you can’t tell me who the fuck should and shouldn’t be my friends, Hong”
•and you storm away, and for the first time, you ditch class
•you go on to the roof, where it’s starting to rain
•but you honestly couldn’t care less and walked out to sit in the rain
•and you kinda ball up, letting the rain hit your face
•"aw don’t cry sweetheart"
•in the cockiest voice you’ve ever heard, seungcheol said
•and you let out a laugh, and tell him that while you’re not crying but it feels like you should be
•and he laughs and sits down next to you
•and both of you sit and watch as the rain gets heavier but neither of you make a move to leave
•"you guys aren’t that bad.“
•with a smirk from him, he told you that you weren’t too bad either, for a wannabe doctor that is
•so from skipping a class, it went to skipping the whole day to hang out with the boy with a lip ring

•so you had been grounded for a month, and made to dye your hair back to your natural color
•(you honestly didn’t care, but it was a little frustrating that that’s what they did)
•but you kept hanging out with the group of misfits
•every day before classes you’d go to the back of the school and chill with seungcheol
•the resident bad boy had mellowed out for the doctor
•but both of you were ignoring your feelings for each other, even though it was obvious
•he’d give you his leather jacket to wear, walk you to classes, eat lunch with you, walk home with you
•ItS PrEtTy DaNg cLEaR
•but nah y'all are wusses
•and won’t make a move
•until
•the last day of junior year is the worst, exams and shit take a toll
•even though you’re studying you feel like it’s not enough
•therefore skipping meals and other necessary things to cram in words on a page
•and it’s killing him to see you this way
•so one day as they’ve gathered around the table to eat lunch, you’re starting to nod off
•and you keep doing the thing, y'know the head drop thing
•and he just can’t anymore so he just picks you and your bag up
•and carries you to the nurse
•and puts you in bed
•"how am I supposed to sit back and watch the person I love, push themselves this hard?”
•and it takes you a minute
“I can take care of mys- wait what… love?”
•and you can see his ears start to turn red but he nods and just repeats himself
•"yes, love"
•and you smile and sink into the pillow
•you’re starting to drift away, but before you fall asleep completely
•"I love you too idiot"
•you didn’t get to see the grin that graced his face

•you can bet that when your results were out that he picked you up in a hug and spun around
•before placing a kiss on your nose and whispering that he’s so proud of you
•sometime in senior year you made up with Joshua, who was now dating a misfit of his own
•(they came close to beating you in cutest couple but cheol would deny that)
•he lets you wear his jackets more often now, letting you keep them overnight
•when he gets them back he loves to put them on just to smell your scent around him
•he’s sof but will attac
•bad boy scoups is a cute boyfriend who is your biggest supporter in you following your dreams

German scientists to begin identifying Nazi victims’ brain specimens 

German scientists are to begin identifying thousands of brain specimens belonging to people killed by the Nazis because they had a disability or were ill.

The three-year research project into the specimens in the Max Planck institutes’ possession, which will begin in June, aims to build a database listing the names of all “euthanasia” victims. “It will include basic biographical data on the victims, their institutional treatment, and the criteria used to select the victims,” the Munich-based, non-profit Max Planck Society said in a statement.

“The manner of their death will also be documented along with data on the removal of the brain … and the research carried out on [it].”

Adolf Hitler’s so-called “euthanasia” programme, in which doctors and scientists actively participated, sought to exterminate the sick, physically and mentally disabled people, those with learning disabilities and those considered social “misfits”.

Between January 1940 and August 1941, doctors systematically gassed more than 70,000 people at six sites in German-controlled territory, until public outrage forced them to end the overt killing. But tens of thousands more died across Europe before the Nazis were defeated in 1945, through starvation, neglect or deliberate overdoses administered by caregivers. Many also underwent bizarre medical experiments and forced sterilisations because of their supposed genetic inferiority.

Hitler’s programme sought to exterminate physically and mentally disabled people and those considered ‘misfits’. Photograph: Popperfoto/Getty Images

It’s hot and I’m dying slowly but here’s another one for the weaponized gembond series.

Originally they were going to have something of an ice-skater/leg blade kinda vibe but ehhh.. Decided to go in a slightly different direction. So now they have stilts (stilettos? lol, if stilettos were lances).

They are a high maintenance, smarmy piece of shit that loves the spotlight. Constantly after attention (good or bad), sensitive about their height (actually very short!! the stilts give them a huge height boost. do not bring this up if you do not want a stab through the stomach!!), low upper body strength but killer legs and flexibility (and stamina).

One of their hobbies is jogging/going for walks, though not entirely by choice. The stilt-like growths of their feet is constantly (though at a very slow pace) growing and cannot be easily contained like the others. They must walk regularly in order to grind down the gembond otherwise it will go out of control endangering themselves and possibly others. Out of all the experiments, they are the only one considered a ‘failure.’ They are highly aware of this and is a source of much self-loathing (though they hide it under layers and layers of bratty arrogance, inferiority complex anyone?).

Despite their arrogant persona, they are not malicious. They are sensitive to the plight of those considered outcasts or misfits and they have a strong sense of justice. Special power: can jump really high.

10

From bostonglobe.com: On Nov. 4, 1975, David Bowie appeared on “Soul Train.”

He wasn’t the first white solo artist to perform on the landmark music show — Elton John claimed that auspicious slice of history months earlier. But make no mistake: This was an equally seminal event. Forty years later, it remains a striking pop culture memory.

To be clear, “Soul Train” didn’t need Bowie. From the show’s 1971 debut, it was instantly must-see TV for many young African-Americans, and anyone else who wanted to be down with the best music around. “Soul Train” wanted Bowie on its stage. Already a star in rock circles, Bowie, by the mid-1970s, had begun to indulge his love of the American soul music that first caught his discerning ear as a teenager in his native England. And black radio stations that never thought twice about “The Man Who Sold the World” or “Changes” ate up “Fame” and “Golden Years,” the two songs Bowie would perform on “Soul Train.”

“Soul Train” creator and host Don Cornelius, the coolest uncle you never had, gave Bowie (whose name he pronounced as “BOO-ie”) an effusive introduction: “We’re very proud to have with us one who is easily one of the world’s most popular and important music personalities. A great welcome, gang, for the gifted singer, composer, producer — Mr. David Bowie.”

From the beginnings of popular music, African-American artists were accustomed to performing for all-white audiences, but a white performer appearing before a black crowd was practically unprecedented. In a periwinkle blue suit and a yellow shirt, here was Bowie, his hair a brassy two-toned strawberry blond, a pale, thin Brit amid a sea of Afros rising like the morning sun. When Bowie shakes Cornelius’s hand, he seems shy and nervous. Bowie hadn’t done much American television, and now he was on a stage once graced by his musical idols, like James Brown. This was hallowed ground, and Bowie, then 28, reportedly downed a few drinks backstage to steady his nerves. He needn’t have worried. The audience’s cheers and applause seemed especially enthusiastic, as if they wanted to assure him that he was a welcome guest in their house.

Yes, alone on the stage, Bowie lip-synched, and sometimes quite indifferently at that. Still, when he performed “Fame,” cowritten with John Lennon and his first chart-topping US hit, the audience yelped at his sinewy, spastic dance steps, and Bowie clearly reveled in it, grinning like a kid. He was no stranger in a strange land — there was deeper connection here. Perhaps the crowd saw in Bowie a bit of themselves. They certainly understood what it meant to be treated as outsiders, and to forge that status into a culture much envied and imitated. Bowie built his career as the champion of outcasts and misfits, those who become triumphs of self-invention, their humanity pulled from the ashes of conformity. Along the way, he deeply influenced Grace Jones, gave Luther Vandross an early break as a backup singer on “Young Americans,” and featured Al B. Sure on “Black Tie, White Noise,” Bowie’s response to the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Nile Rodgers produced 1983’s “Let’s Dance,” the best-selling album of Bowie’s career.

In retrospect, it’s not odd at all that the man who burst onto the music scene as rock’s Space Oddity found a place on “Soul Train.” It didn’t matter that Bowie was white; the music was funky and original. He was influenced by black music, but what he made was unmistakably Bowie music. On the wretched occasion of his death from cancer at 69, I remember and celebrate his remarkable performance, on a Saturday morning, all those decades ago. As with everything he did, Bowie’s lanky, angular soul was a sound and a moment all his own. - Renée Graham

  • Zuko: THE SUN IS ON FIRE. I REPEAT, THE SUN IS ON FIRE.
  • Katara: THE OCEAN IS FLOODING. I REPEAT, THE OCEAN IS FLOODING.
  • Toph: THE EARTH IS SPINNING. I REPEAT, THE EARTH IS SPINNING.
  • Aang: A MYSTERIOUS GAS HAS SETTLED ALL THROUGHOUT EARTH AND WE ARE CURRENTLY BREATHING IT IN
  • Azula: Those merry band of misfits. seriously.
4

So tomorrow is Misfit Appreciation Day, where we create a bunch of creative works for the DC character Misfit. For those that don’t know who MIsfit is, she’s a fun and happy teleporting girl from DC’s book Birds of Prey, created by Gail Simone. The last few years, I’ve joined in on this, making period inspired faux covers for her. And I’ve had a bit of a narrative going on with my contributions. A few people have caught on, but I thought I’d lay it all out for y'all, an repost the covers done so far. :)

So the idea is that when the Flashpoint happened, and the DC Universe was shifting into it’s current incarnation, Misfit was teleporting (or bouncing) at the exact same time, and ended up getting hurtled through space and time, as seen in Cover #1. So she’s been attempting to bounce her way back home, decade by decade.

She landed in the Golden Age of the 1940s with Cover #2. And then encountered the Man-Bat in the 1950s in the EC Comics themed Refrigerator of Secrets Cover #3, and then into the trippy 1960s fighting super-spies in the Jim Steranko inspired Cover #4.  

So tomorrow, we bounce to the 1970s AND 1980s…

And yes, I got this planned up all the way to her birth decade of the 2010s. I am REAAALLLY looking forward to the 1990s. :)

youtube

Still one of my favorite QotSA live performances.  Troy is killing it.

The Light in the Dark

TITLE: The Light in the Dark

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Five

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine being blinded in an accident while helping S.H.I.E.L.D., you live in the Tower with everyone but dread the way they treat you like a helpless child. When Loki arrives on Midgard to carry out the rest of his sentence he becomes curious with your condition and how you manage to read and such. Over the months the two of you grow closer than the others thought possible. You come to love him without ever seeing him. 

RATING: Teen and Up

You sat on a chair that faced a wall that was nothing but a large pane of glass, the glorious sunshine causing it to be warm even though it was just springtime. Velveteen Rabbit was in your arms and you cuddled it close. It was pathetic and very much laughable to be a fully grown woman and yet be holding a stuffed toy so tight against you for comfort, but you did not care, you needed it, you needed some form of contact, something you were long lacking since that faithful day.

How Stark and the others were treating you, though well intentioned, had driven you into a slump. You had never been one to rely heavily on others, having gone to college at fifteen, and having always only ever done research projects on your own, now you felt as though you were utterly dependant, even when you did not think you needed to be. It was only a jumper, you were pretty sure they misplaced far larger items, but when you did it, it was just short of a national crisis. You became more frustrated, and after a while just wished to walk to get rid of the pent up energy you were after accumulating.

Keep reading

In honor of Red's brown jacket making a return in 4.06..... Welcome back Brown Jacket

Liz: isn’t that the brown jacket you were wearing-
Red: don’t say it-
Liz: that day you were-
Red: no need to bring that up
Liz: kidnapped at the gas ‘n sip?
Red: Lizzy it happens to the best of us ok
Liz: but that’s the day I was a total badass and called you my friend twenty times and made a trade for your life and-
Red: hold up, run that past me again
Liz: I was a total badass
Red: after that
Liz: well I mean I couldn’t leave you with those misfits so I set up a trade-
Red: before that
Liz:
Red:
Liz: ok fine I told everyone who would listen that you’re my friend
Red: so this could really be considered my lucky jacket now since we’re friends and all
Liz: it is a nice reminder of better days
Red: then I’ll make sure it stays this time
Kirk: whenever you two are finished flirting perhaps we can continue

brazenautomaton  asked:

I like plenty of things with 'strong' female protagonists, whatever people decide that ends up meaning, but seeing someone advertise their story with 'strong female protagonist' as a selling point trips my "this is going to be pandering shit' alarm. Buffy is a show with a strong female protagonist. Charmed is the kind of show that sells itself on 'strong female protagonist'.

Certainly selling it at face value is a bit unsubtle, but I can definitely assure you the book is not pandering. I have to admit I don’t know Buffy or Charmed well, but for my own material, the protagonist is a character who developed naturally with the plot. I never made her unnaturally strong to court audiences, I never tried to make a statement with her (or at least none about ‘girls can kick ass too’ or any such thing). It’s sort of taken for granted that she’s a very tough character. If strong is to mean ‘well designed and realistic’ than I’m proud to say she’s that too, though that’s just what any author owes their character.

What makes Violet stand out is what’s wrong with her, in terms of her society. She has nothing that anyone envies in this world. All they care about in the future is your mind, intelligence, kindness and other noble traits. Violet has average intelligence at best for the year 2230 and far less kindness and decency than is proper. She’s a brute. Vicious in temperament and backwards in terms of any degree of philosophy. Illiterate and utterly unmotivated not to be. Basically in 2230 terms, she’s a useless bitch.

The trick of the book is that useless brutes like her are the only thing keeping this peaceful happy utopian world together. Vicious, cruel, nasty people hidden from polite eyes. So it becomes the story of the useless becoming useful, of the outcast finding other outcasts, or simply put, the square peg finding the square hole it fits in.

So depending on what one means by ‘strong female character’ I’d say she fits the bill but she doesn’t do it in any way I’ve read before. I see praise for Hermione- That’s the exact opposite of Violet, all brains. Plenty of people hear ‘strong female character’ and think Katniss Everdeen, also opposite as she’s as noble as it gets and my lead would likely kill all the other kids without a second thought and laugh about it later. I’m told Divergent has a square peg sort of plot, but I can at least brag that the square hole in Valhalla makes Divergent’s toughest faction look like the cub scouts.

So yeah, I’ve got a strong female lead and I’m not ashamed to advertise it. But I also have a female lead you haven’t read 50 times on YA Cliche central. I’m quite certain she’s an original creature because frankly, most people won’t want to read about her.

Violet MacRae has no nobility, no gentle soul, no bravery beyond her own will to get into fights for the fun of it, no great intelligence, no prophecy that makes her “the one” or anything close to it. If you want another Jesus substitute, don’t read my book.

I didn’t write Violet for prom royalty or even the sci-fi club. I wrote her for the people who don’t even fit into the sci-fi club. I wrote her for the people who are different enough to suffer a miserable fucking childhood for it. I wrote her for freaks and rejects who have been so abused, so shit-upon, so forbidden from common society that they wouldn’t know what to do with a compliment if they ever got one. Popular kids like the book, the sci-fi clubs love it, but I wrote it for people like me who read books because they’re all they’ve got. I wrote the character that they can relate to and I wrote her because nobody’s offered a character to people like us before. They offer ‘misfits’ with pretty faces and perfect hair who accomplish great things according to the prophecy.

I offer the girl those misfits cast out. And I offer the übermisfits that would accept such a person. And sorry if it sounds like another sales pitch, but they’re fucking spectacular.

“Strong female characters” are a dime a dozen. But there’s only one Violet MacRae. And if I call her a strong female character in shorthand for the long paragraphs above, I beg your forgiveness, not everyone wants to read an essay on why I wrote what I wrote.

But if anyone reading this has never seen a character like themselves in a novel because nobody’s willing to write a brutal enough tale to fit them, if anyone has read this far and wants to meet the girl I’m talking about, if anyone simply has the courage to challenge themselves with a book about someone they’ll never read about anywhere else, I’ve got a book for you:

And you can read a chapter and a half of it for free under “Look Inside.”

On Danse

I’m endlessly curious about the scar over Danse’s eye. Like, did he earn that in some heroic battle against a horde of wasteland abominations, championing the Brotherhood of Steel in bloody victory?

…Or did Institute scientists carefully measure the placement, the depth, and the curvature of it for him? Did they have to formulate a plan to best to replicate that imperfection in synthetic flesh? Were there heated arguments over how to ensure it wouldn’t heal over too well or too little, but just enough to cut through the brow and keep the hair from growing back?

Nobody can say when M7-97 actually became “Danse”. Maybe he was a runaway unit, saved by the Railroad and smuggled into D.C. to lead the life they programmed for him prior to his enlistment. For whatever reason no facial reconstruction was performed. Risky, but it’s a possibility.

Equally plausible is that the synth was part of a nefarious experiment. Perhaps M7-97 was created with a specific purpose in mind. His integration into the ranks of the Brotherhood may have been orchestrated by the Institute in an attempt to answer the biggest question needling at their collective ego in those early days of Gen-3′s: Are we capable of creating an artificial man lifelike enough to fool our greatest enemy, even as he lives among them?

One must wonder if there was once a human Paladin N. Danse, captured in the field and imprisoned within the old C.I.T. ruins. If so, how hard did he fight his impending fate? Did he muster up every once of willpower to resist the brain scans that copied his memories? Was he restrained while the staff cataloged his battle scars and mapped his musculature? Did he curse at the researchers, spit at them, thrash against his bindings while they tossed around ideas about how to recreate his visage for his doppleganger?

Did Danse ever look at the next gurney over and see M7-97, the soulless construct wearing his face, being prepared to assume the life he’d built for himself?

I think these are the questions that Danse the synth would lose sleep over as he struggled with his nature. He might grow jealous of Valentine, because at least Nick knows what he is: an echo, but one whose existence didn’t require harm. The real Nick Valentine was 200 years dead. In his case nobody was killed in order to make room for a robot impostor. But Danse? Danse has no way to know if a good man - the man he thought he was - was murdered in order for him to have an identity.

Deacon might nose around for leads on synths relocated to the Capitol Wasteland, but the Railroad is decentralized to prevent that exact sort of information from being dug up. Besides, the Railroad has been hit too hard and too frequently over the years. Agents die, tourists vanish, allies turn rogue, safe houses go dark. If there’s anyone still around who might remember moving a package with Danse’s face, Deacon can’t find them.

The Survivor may subtly browse through some records in the Institute’s Synth Retention division and find nothing about a unit with the designation M7-97. Either it has been lost so long that the Institute is convinced there is no point devoting resources to its retrieval, or they know damn well where it’s located. M7-97 is masquerading as a decorated member of the Brotherhood of Steel, right where they left it years ago. A roaring success. Project closed.

Danse has no answers. He has no relatives or history or even an idea of how long he’s been walking this earth. All he has are these people who stand between him and the muzzle of the executioner’s rifle; people who he never imagined would do so based on past interactions. Valentine, the synth he’d scathingly referred to as “a thing”. Piper, the civilian resolute to stop the Institute from replacing innocents with synths. Deacon, the liar with an agenda obviously opposed to his own. Hancock, the ghoul and chemfiend Danse despised on principle.

And the Survivor whom Danse himself had brought into the order. Someone who was supposed to be resolved to end the synth menace, but instead not only gave their C.O. a chance to keep living but also a reason to.

Someday Danse will realize those misfits and malcontents with whom he never fully got along may not have been his friends per say, but they were his family. The truest and most devoted one he never thought to ask for.

'Badass Attitude' Part 1 (5sos Imagine)

“This is fucking shit!” I whisper yelled as I sat in the principals office.

“Quiet!” my friend, Lily, whispered back.

“We didn’t do anything.”

“I know, Tal. We will be out soon.”

“I hope so.”

“Good morning ladies,” our principal said walking into the room.

“Good morning Mr. Straw,” Lil and I said at the same time.

“So today I have called you in here because I need your help. I see here that you are two very good students and have never been brought here for bad purposes. Now, we have four new students. Two of the are okay and can get on well in this new school. The other two, however, are big time trouble makers.”

“What are you saying?” Lil asked him.

“I’m saying that you two along with the help of the two good new students are going to try and keep the other two in line. I’ve made sure that you all have the same classes together. You two may go now. Wait in the office for the new student who will be here soon.”

He got up and opened up the door. We walked outside and waited in the waiting area.

“I signed up for high school not fucking babysitting,” Lil whispered to me.

“Same like what the fuck they can watch the kids on there own.”

“Tal, I wonder how bad they actually are.”

“Probably not even that bad. They make a big deal out of nothing most of the time.”

“But he made it sound like they were really bad.”

“Lil, stop stressing about it. It’s gonna be fine.”

Just then, four boys walked into the room. I took the time to examine them. One of them had on jeans and a Nirvana tshirt. He had curly hair that he just let fall in front of his face. He was tall. Really tall. The next one had blonde hair that he made stick almost straight up. He was wearing black skinny jeans (which were really tight) and a Misfits tshirt. Those two didn’t seem that bad. I guess those are the ‘good’ ones.

The other two, however, looked really badass. One had hair that was obviously died blonde because you could see a bit of black underneath it. He wore a black leather vest with a black tshirt and black skinny jeans. He worn black boots as well. I saw a faint tattoo sticking out from his shoulder.

The other one had a darker hair and skin tone from the other three. He had a black leather jacket paired with a black Green Day tshirt and black skinny jeans. He was also wearing black vans with white laces.

“We were told to come here?” The black vest one said. He had a lot of attitude.

“Ah you must be the new students. What are your names please?” the secretary, Mrs. Hallow, asked. The first boy that spoke sighed and turned away.

“I’m Luke. That’s Ashton, Calum, and Michael,” the one with the blonde hair that stuck straight up said.

Okay so Nirvana tshirt is Ashton, Misfits tshirt is Luke, leather vest is Michael (also pissy attitude), and Green Day tshirt is Calum, I think.

“Why hello boys,” Mr. Straw said walking into the room.

“Hello Mr. Straw,” Ashton said, extending his hand.

“Karen, have you introduced them to their buddies yet?”

“Please never call them that again,” Calum said with as much attitude as Michael. “And no, she hasn’t.”

“Alright. Well boys this is Talia and Lily. They will be showing you around the school.”

“Hi,” Lil nervously said to the boys. I decided to keep my mouth shut.

“Well I’ll let you six get to class. Have a nice day!”

We walked out into the hallways and started to walk towards class.

“So where did you guys come from?” Lil asked.

“Australia,” Luke answered.

“Oh wow. Why did you guys choose to come here?”

“Michael’s mom made us. He almost got us kicked out of the country,” Ashton replied.

“It was one fucking time and it wasn’t even bad!” Michael said.

“But it still wasn’t good.”

“Shut the fuck up Ashton. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey Mike, calm down a little. I know he pissed you off but we don’t need to get kicked out of here too,” Calum said.

Oh boy.

This is going to be fun.

anonymous asked:

Hey Atticus, is Peyroux near any other quirky and odd towns, like Night Vale or Desert Bluffs?

The tiny, haunted village of Peyroux has a peculiar geographical significance in that no one is quite sure where it is at any given time.

To quote Inigo Montoya: “Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.”

If the below block of text is too big to chew, we plan on having a Welcome to Peyroux guide online in the next few months.

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