Crym Redwynn: Magitek Prodigy

Staff Writer: Ayana Rhelka

Those that know me to know that I like to ask a lot of questions. For this issue of The Looking Glass, I decided to be semi-constructive with it and ask one of our resident engineering experts about his experience in the field of magitek!I interviewed Crym in the bathtub, as he was washing his hair and couldn’t escape.AYANA: “Okay, first question! What was your first experience with magitek?”CRYM: “My friends and I found an old Garlean vehicle that had been ditched in the bottom of a gorge. We scavenged it for parts and I tried rigging it up to my father’s tractor. It didn’t turn out well…But after I had moved away and joined up with the Ironworks, I got a proper education in magitek.”AYANA: “What first got you interested in magitek as a whole?”CRYM: “The tractor incident that I mentioned. I wanted to prove that it could be done and help the farm out despite the tractor ending up upside down in a ditch. My mistake.”AYANA: “Aw, your heart was in the right place, flower. I’m sure your father’s glad you goofed up his tractor all those years ago, considering who you’ve become. Okay! Third question! When did you decide to pursue a career in this field?”CRYM: “I still wanted to work with magitek when I arrived in Ul’dah and worked on all the machines I could when I apprenticed in a small workshop. I tried to meet Ironworks members whenever the opportunity came up. I was persistent… or annoying. First one, then the other.”AYANA: “Whichever it was, it clearly worked out! Which leads me into our next question: What other jobs have you worked before joining the Halcyon Assembly?”CRYM: “The workshop was my first job where I worked on man powered, electrical and steam powered machines. Every once in awhile we would get something magitek. After that, you and I went to work for a friend in Kugane and I repaired gear and vehicles we used there. When we came back I worked for the Ironworks proper for a short time before we joined up with the Halcyon Assembly.”AYANA: “Oh, aye, Kugane was a nice time! And clearly your pestering the Ironworks members worked out in your favor after all! Okay, okay! Last question, and I’ll let you wash the shampoo out of your hair: What are you working on right now?”CRYM: “Right now I’m working on a Garlean truck that we brought back from the other side of the Wall. Trying to outfit it for field missions when chocobos don’t work out, like in extreme heat or cold. Also outfitting the Dragonfly with boosters and increasing its overall speed without adding any weight to it while making sure it’s structurally sound.”AYANA: “Oh, right! The truck! Excited to see how that works out–though I really hope you’re the one driving it, as you do with the Dragonfly. Thanks, flower!”Overall, I’d say this interview was very enlightening and Crym did a great job of responding on the fly, despite having been intruded upon in the bath.

Iron Heart: Inside Look at the Imperial Magitek Academy

Chief Editor: Sima Qian [司馬遷]

The Garlean Empire, and the Magitek technology which propelled their military might above all other nations, have cast a long shadow over the free peoples of this star for many a decade now. From Doma in the east to Gyr Abania in the west, many of us are all too familiar with the sight of iron-bound legionaires on our soil, and steel-clad dreadnoughts in the sky. Despite this, most Eorzeans know little to nothing about the domestic society of the Empire whose bellicosity has left a footprint on every corner of the earth. What is it like to grow up in the Imperial capital? What values are instilled in their children, and from where does the technological innovation which nearly conquered the whole world come from?These were the questions I had in my mind when I met ‘Church Mouse’, a young woman of pure blooded Garlean stock who is as sweet in demeanor as she is talented in Magitek engineering.Miss Mouse, who will be the subject of my article today, has the distinction of being a graduate of the Imperial Magitek Academy, the very same institution in which almost all the War Machina the free armies of Eorzea and Othard have had to contend with were prototyped. I think a glimpse into the Magitek Academy is a perfect place begin an ethnographic exploration of Garlean society, and in doing so through the eyes of Miss Church Mouse, I hope to add a human element to a people who we have been trained (rightfully, granted) to see as bitter enemies.[I should note, briefly, ‘Church Mouse’ is an obvious alias, but it's what she introduced herself to me as, and I didn’t wish to pressure her to give me her true name. I know this is the third person in a row I’ve interviewed whose real name has been obscured but please trust me, I’m not doing this on purpose.]Miss Mouse and I begin our interview in the reverie lounge during closing hours over a pot of oolong tea. I should note that everything about my interactions with her thus far have been pleasant: she is well spoken, polite, charming, and above all, respectful. This comes as a mild shock to me, for I grew up in occupied Doma, and in those days, even the most well-intentioned Imperial Pureblood spoke to us provincials with a degree of inherent condescension. In any case, I ask her to lay down the foundations discussion with the following question: “here in Eorzea, we don’t get many pureblooded Garleans, let alone students of the Imperial Magitek Academy. So, to help familiarize our audience with our core topic today, can you briefly explain to me what the Imperial Academy is, and what is its main purpose?”Mouse straightens herself and delivers a characteristically chipper answer: “The Magitek Academy is both a research facility and a school! Or, it was- if it’s not still standing anymore…” Mouse trails off, her zestful gaze fading. It should be noted that, at the time this interview was published, Garlemald was in a state of… turmoil, to say the least. But we won’t get into that today. “Garlemald’s chief engineer serves as the head of the institution. The Academy is known for having strict entry requirements. Applicants need to be outstanding, and even then, not all of them are able to complete the intense six-year program. Of the few who graduate, they have two choices- they can continue in the academy as a researcher, or join the army as a magitek technician.” Mouse seems to finish her thought- then hastily adds on: “Oh, and it was really rare that any citizens from the provinces were accepted into the academy, but a few were.”So far, the academy sounds about what you’d expect from a Garlean institution, in that it serves principally to fuel the military industrial complex. However, one thing to consider is the meritocratic system by which applicants are accepted. Of course, as Mouse herself admits, there is still a great deal of racial bias- with Purebloods being inherently more likely to enter the prestigious institution than provincials. But compare that to say, the extremely stratified society of Kugane where your caste determines your whole life, or Ishgard, where for centuries, to be born in the Brume was to die in the Brume. In contrast, social mobility in Garlemald seems relatively achievable through success in the academy. It’s all about perspective, really.In any case, I move along with my questions, asking Mouse: “Why don't you run our readers through some of the types of machina you develop at the academy? Not the whole list of course- just what you think is the most important.”Mouse immediately regains her bubbly demeanor, eager to talk about what is both her passion and principle trade. “A lot of new models of machina were developed at the Imperial Youth Exhibition, which is a showcase and contest for aspiring engineers. There were flying machines, robots… some kids made smaller versions of the ‘Novus’, which is a … type of common transport vehicle. Like a chocobo carriage but uh, without the chocobo. None of the students were making fully fledged automata back then, we were all about sixteen- very young!”It is no wonder Garlemald nearly conquered the world, I wonder pensively. While other nations inspire the values of tradition in their children, the Garleans inspire innovation, channeling young ingenuity to contribute to the state. If only it had been channeled for the betterment of all, rather than the subjugation of all… In any case, our interview then takes a personal turn, as I ask: “Let's move on to /you/ and your story! Tell me about how you came to join the Imperial academy. It must have been hard to gain entry, no?”Church Mouse takes on a sheepish look. “Well I honestly… barely was able to get in! I was kind of in the bottom rung of the applicants. So-... yeah, it was hard to get in. It was hard to stay in! A lot of people dropped out because they couldn’t keep up with the lectures. But all in all I just… I applied because I liked engineering, and well, I wanted to contribute to the Empire I guess. You know… kid dreams.”I follow up: “Why dont you walk me through the typical day-in-the-life of a young Imperial Academy student? From sunrise to bed time, what does your day look like?"Mouse’s expression remains charmingly bashful as she maintains her air of humility. “My days weren’t exciting! I’d wake up and get dressed in the uniform- which was all black. Then I’d usually make my way to the academy’s library. I wasn’t-... well, like I said, I struggled to keep up with it all, so I spent all my time studying to keep on top of lectures and assignments… After morning there would be two slots, and we’d have lectures and classes. Then there’d be a fifteen minute break before another class… then lunch! Which… I spent in the bathrooms because, uhm, I kind of wasn’t popular. So I hid, although that didn’t stop the other kids from ruining my food.”I know it's trivial, but like many Othardi and Eorzeans, I’ve always seen the Garlean people exclusively as iron-clad soldiers or bureaucratic overlords. The idea of Garleans as scrambling school-children is a bit off-putting to me, in an unfamiliar way. In any case, a particular part of Mouse’s last answer piqued my curiosity, so I ask: “It sounds like the other students didnt treat you very well. If the memories aren't too painful, would you mind elaborating on why?"Mouse smiles, indicating she’s quite comfortable talking about this. “Well, I was a mute at the time. I couldn’t say more than three words at a time and… even then it was only ever to people I trusted. It’s why I sort of… it explains my stutter.” [I’ve omitted her stutter in this article, but suffice to say- stutter or not, Miss Mouse speaks very clearly and eloquently.] “I was also sick at the time. Something made the muscles in my legs weak and… with the Empire putting pride into strength and efficiency I was… kind of an easy target. And kids are mean sometimes.”Therein lies the kicker- as much as I am trying to humanize the Garlean experience today, I would be remiss to forget that this is still a culture which equates cruelty to strength and holds it up on the highest pedestal, allowing compassion to fall to the wayside. I know the Pureblooded Garleans are a long-suffering people, and their discovery of Magitek allowed them to pay back in kind what other peoples had been doing to them for centuries. But I refuse to believe it had to be this way, and now that the Empire is no longer a threat, maybe ‘Magitek’ doesn’t have to be a word synonymous with destruction. Thus, I ask Mouse: “As all Eorzeans are likely grimly aware, the Imperial Magitek Academy has produced many forms of War Machina for the purposes of conquest. But what about civic innovations? What are some non-military innovations the academy is responsible for that you're particularly proud of?”She seems happy for the excuse to bridge to a brighter topic. “Airships for personal and public use… land vehicles to make getting around the city easier. Heating in our houses. The technology that made all of our perfumes and powered breweries… stuff for textiles, durable carbon. We also had a train network!”The passion in Mouse’s words tell us that there is a world of wonders in Garlemald, a myriad of ways in which the lives of Eorzeans can be immeasurably improved- and in some cases already have, such as through the contributions of the Garlond Ironworks. Hoping to conclude this interview with a strong message about the spirit of cooperation and technological exchange, I ask: “Well miss Mouse, do you have any closing remarks to add? Anything you think our Eorzean readers should know about students of the Imperial Academy, or about Garleans in general?”“Don’t flick our foreheads!” She replied immediately, “It’s… very uncomfortable! There’s a whole organ up there!”
I must confess, honoured readers, that made me laugh. Not quite the poignant social commentary I was hoping to end this article with, but nevertheless a light-hearted reminder that people are people, wherever they hail from. Honoured readers, I cannot deny that Garlemald is responsible for many heinous wrongs- responsible for scars which will take generations to heal. However, I remain optimistic, that as a new generation brings Garlemald out of its present state in the ashes, a new era of Imperial-Eorzean relations will be born. One defined not by the spirit of brutality and conquest as defined by the likes of Solus and Varis, but a passion for creativity, innovation and cooperation, as embodied in our dear little Mouse.

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Going Coocoo for Kukuru!

Staff Writer: Syrenead Tormelodos

With Valentione’s passing and Hatchingtide fast approaching let us take a moment to discuss chocolate and where it comes from. There are two main types of chocolate, dark and milk. Many will argue that white is also a chocolate, but it is missing a key component that makes it chocolate. That component is kukuru solids. It is a part of the chocolate family, but like a distant cousin and that doesn’t make it any less tasty.Where does chocolate come from? It comes from the Kukuru Plant, more specifically the Kukuru beans. You can often find these plants growing in a tropical climate as they thrive in humid and lush environments. Smaller than most trees, they produce flowers directly on the trunk and older branches. Eventually, these flowers become the large pods that are filled with the beans or the nibs that are encased in a white pulp. When these beans are fermented, they become the main ingredient for chocolate making. It takes about 1200 seeds to produce two ponze of chocolate and the pulp is used in juices, smoothies, jellies and creams. It, too, can be fermented into an alcoholic drink.Kukuru seeds can be roasted and ground into a powder which is used in baking or in a hot drink we all know and love as Hot Chocolate. Kukuru powder dissolved in dairy has a better chance of dissolving than that with water, this is due to the fat content that is in the powder which causes it to be hydrophobic, or afraid of water. There are many plant based powders that are like this and it takes a while for them to dissolve in liquids; hotter liquids being better than cold ones.Chocolate is well known to improve moods, as well help with blood systems. It opens up the vessels and allows blood flow more freely through the body. In dark chocolate, because it contains more cocoa and less sugar, it seems to be the most beneficial when it comes to aiding the body in things that may cause inflammation. As it doesn’t contain dairy, it will also not trigger any stomach issues related to milk allergies unlike milk chocolate which has a form of milk or milk solids mixed in during it’s creation.So when you offer your beloved a chocolate, and when you are on the receiving end of an offering of chocolate, remember that this person not only cares enough to give you a delicious sweet treat to make you smile, they also care about your health subconsciously. Happy Belated Valentione’s Day and Happy early Hatchingtide.

The View From Below

Staff Writer: Susuni Suni

In every town there is a place where the road ends. Look behind everything that matters and every place hidden from anywhere anybody would want to go and you’ll find it. At the end of that road there will inevitably be a bar. The Bar’s sign will be broken, or faded, or just missing. You can’t ask for it by name. You just have to wind up there and realize you’ve gone as far as you can, and it’s time to stop.More years ago than I like to count, but probably fewer than the fingers on one hand, I stumbled in here for lack of anywhere else to go. I was hungry and sober, but I took the stage, told a few jokes that went over well, and they fixed both of those problems for me. If you’ve ever heard any of my comedy act, you can probably guess the kind of place this is, and who would be inside it.I had some good times there, but eventually I found the way out. I’m told that happens every now and then, but only once, and I had better take it. So I did.But sometimes a letter will catch up to me from the owner of The Bar. The letter might be written on a stained napkin, and be inside an envelope made from a greasy fish-and-chips bag. It will lack any rational way to find me, written to the wrong address and lacking even the traces of a good lie that postage was ever attached to it. But arrive it will.“Hey Susuni, our ballet dancers cancelled for this weekend. Do you think you can come by and add some culture to the place? Derrik is playing.”The answer is almost always yes. Sometimes I can’t get away from what I’m doing, and there is general agreement that time spent in jail doesn’t count. All that said, some invitations you just don’t turn down on a whim.Lest you think too much of me and claim I have any real sense of responsibility, there is not some grand debt at work here. It’s not that they helped me when I was down so I help them out when they need it. The bar doesn’t work that way. Nobody owes anybody anything at The Bar at the end of the road. Everyone just is and does what they can.I get paid a bit and am granted my fill of sour beer and fried fish that is way better than it has any right to be, but that’s not what I go back.I go back to see Derrik.Derrik might be a hard-lived forty, or he might be a surviving miracle of eighty. There is no way to tell and I’ll bet even he doesn’t know. He has that look of somebody that you could see anywhere, know your whole life, and realize later you don’t even know where he’s from. He has an amazing ability to not look out of place when he’s just taking up space, and to suddenly be the center of attention.Derrik plays guitar. He plays it better than anybody I’ve ever heard. He can coax divine music from strings that have more knots in them than the oldest and most twisted evergreen tree. He can take a room full of people who have nothing going for them and make them stop and listen as if they spent the last of their tarnished copper coin to be there.Why have you never heard of Derrik if he’s that good? Mostly because the other thing that Derrik is good at is drinking himself into a stupor. Lately he’s had a lot more practice at the latter than the former. It’s an old and common story that the music in his heart is just not strong enough to overcome the demons in his soul. His nightly fall is as ordained as the Champion of Pathos from any holy book. But, like most guitarists, he’ll take the solo when offered.My job at The Bar, when I make the time to show up, is to fill in the gaps when Derrik steps away to see to his needs, grab a drink, or passes out. I need to keep the place interested and looking at the stage. If Derrik sees there is a crowd waiting, he’ll probably play again. If he doesn’t, I can often bring it back around to him with a joke, or just ask him to save me from my purposeful bombing on stage.Derrik knows the view from below. He spends a lot of time there. Despite that, he can’t resist the music that dwells in his hands, and at points he can bring himself to rise to it and bring others somewhere not…quite so far down. He never attains it himself though.Like any system, our arrangement works until it doesn’t. Not working in this case is when Derrik is in such a drunken stupor that the only motion he can make from the barstool is the insensate, boneless slide to the floor. I’d like to say I spare him that indignity, but I mostly just spare him the public notice when it happens.Closing time on such nights are as close as you’ll find to a formal funeral rite for people here. My humor takes on a hard, dying edge. The people know the evening is over, know they have nowhere to go, but go they must. Even places like The Bar only go on so long. Derrik for his part will sleep on the floor, or behind the bar, as much a part of the place as the stained floorboards on which he sleeps. The music is out of him, the drink is in him, and in that state he finally finds the peace he is looking for.Why, you ask, would I tell you of this desperate place? Why go on about Derrik and his music? Why inform you of my church? Because the course of all of our lives are not a straight line, and sometimes the curve dips so low that the only view you may have is from the below. Sometime you may just find yourself at the end of the road.If you find yourself there by accident; uncertain where you are but seeing your forward progress has ended here…don’t look for the bar with the broken sign. Don’t go in. Don’t try to help. Nobody there needs a hero. There is nobody inside who needs saving. These people are at the bottom, and they are, in as much as they can, enjoying the view from below.Should you, by a cruel twist of fate, find your way there naturally and discover that not only can you not go forward but that you can’t go back either, then come inside. Order a drink. Listen to Derrik play for a while. I’ll tell you a joke until the music starts again or until the dawn breaks.Eventually, in the deepest, loneliest darkness that happens just as the sun rises, you can move on. The only path away from the bar leads up. If you can’t find that, Derrik and I will be here to entertain you the next time until you do, or until you find the floorboards as comfortable as we do.