#Seriously... in which world would a sane person join up with the Order thinking that would bring them glory?!

[neverenoughmarauders]

James would do anything that would make him appear like the hero he always romanticized about being... ergo he's not brave and it's not impressive.

I am sorry, what? We didn't read the same book series, I am sure, because at no point are the people working for the Order doing so openly, and they are not applauded or rewarded by the wizarding world at large. You do not become a hero working for the Order of the Phoenix!!

In fact, the Order was likely held in contempt by many, who secretly or openly agree with Voldemorts ideas, even if they weren't prepared to go as far as him.

“They weren’t alone either, there were quite a few people, before Voldemort showed his true colors, who thought he had the right idea about things..." 

The Order wasn't winning, and the odds of survival were pretty awful. I repeat: The good side was losing!! I cannot emphasise this enough. These poor Order members had their backs up against the wall:

"He was takin’ over. ’Course, some stood up to him — an’ he killed ’em. Horribly."

“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”

“I can’t promise no one’s going to get hurt, nobody can promise that, but we’re much better off than we were last time, you weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one...”

“[T]aking up a post at Hogwarts just now would be tantamount to declaring my public allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix! And while I’m sure they’re very admirable and brave and all the rest of it, I don’t personally fancy the mortality rate — ”

While Slughorn is speaking about the current climate, he's been on the run from Voldemort. He's not in a position to base this on the current war (which in any case had just officially started and so far had only one death, RIP SIrius Black). It is based on the last war. And declaring your allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix comes with a high mortality rate. (And I get that he says admirable, but he's not, is he? He's saying it the same way British people say: with all due respect. More than anything he is pre-emptively saying, yes yes, I know Dumbledore and you think they're great, but not for me, thank you).

Do you know who was seeking glory? Snape! Sorry, I don't mean to make this about him, he receives his own unfair share of bashing too, but I need people to understand that it was the people who joined up with Voldemort who were often motivated by glory/wanting to seem impressive.... And it just so happens that JKR spoke about this with regards to Snape:

Well, that is Snape’s tragedy. Given his time over again he would not have become a Death Eater, but like many insecure, vulnerable people (like Wormtail) he craved membership of something big and powerful, something impressive. He wanted Lily and he wanted Mulciber too. He never really understood Lily’s aversion; he was so blinded by his attraction to the dark side he thought she would find him impressive if he became a real Death Eater.

And we've got this as a reminder:

"Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ’em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ’cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right." 

It was the Death Eaters who joined up for a bit of fun - for a bit of power, and glory and all that.

Yes, I believe James romanticised about fighting against evil, and that father-like-son, he probably had a need to play the hero. I do see a lot of Tonks in him (which is why I cannot and will not accept that she's a bad fit for Remus, who adored James). Young, eager to be part of this anti-Voldemort movement, full of life. However, James could not have gone into it seeking glory because there was none to be found down that path.

We know that James Potter despised the dark arts, that he was desperately in love with a muggle-born girl and that like Sirius, he was not content to sit at home and let others do the fighting. This wasn't about seeking glory; it was about doing what was right even when you're fighting what may seem like a losing battle, which is, as I've discussed before, a big topic in the series.

[ghostscarface]

Nah Sirius was let down by the people around him why did no one consider the fact he wouldn’t betray James and why did no one try to get him a trial.

He was obviously depressed/ traumatised and made himself believe Harry was better off without him, once he knew he was in danger that gave him the motivation to escape

Prejudices and rumors killed the cat.

Everyone assumed that the heir of black finally acted like an actual member of the Black family. A lot of them, just waited for Sirius to make one wrong step towards the dark. No one but James and Co saw him as just Sirius everyone else saw him as the heir of house black, which was known for their dark wizards.

The same way Jily and Sirius didn't trust Remus being the secret keeper because of his lycanthropy,assuming that he could join the death eaters any day, since many werewolves felt more respected and accepted from Voldemort. Even if they knew Remus for years they thought it was possible. We all know how the wizarding world treats Werewolves , I can barely blame them for joining him.

The war was still going on when Sirius got arrested, in its final days of course, so they had lots of death eaters trials going on, I assume, plus can you imagine the anger and hatred of the crowds. It was mostly to Barty Crouch Sr who ordered him to go to Askaban without Trial.

The "remains of pettigrew" and the eyewitnesses of the explosion (that peter caused) speaked against Sirius. They thought he went mad and killed and betrayed all of his friends.

I believe the known tale of "house of black insanity" also played against the possibility to just give him veritaserum. Everyone thought he did it.

There was no one to defend him, James and Lily were dead, James Parents too, Remus thought he did it but werewolves were not taken seriously by the ministry anyway, his own family disowned him years ago and probably ignored everything about it, Dumbledore pleaded against him,he only inherited everything because he was the last surviving black and expected to die in Azkaban...

About his mental state ,yeah I agree he drowned in guilt and depression and in a lot of "what if I did that- what if we didn't-" for years in Azkaban. He felt responsible for their deaths even if he wasn't the one betraying him. But he said the one thing that kept him sane there, was that he knew that he was innocent. The dementors couldn't take away this memory because it was a sad one. So I think the depression and guilt was there.

Sirius escaped Azkaban because he recognised Peter's Animagus Form on the daily prophet. Not because of Harry per se, but because of what Peter would do to Harry. After twelve years for the first time, his godparent alarms went off. Woop woop.

I'm not sure why Sirius thought that Harry was well off and cared, where would the boy live if his parents are dead, everyone on the Potter's side were dead, Sirius was in prison and I can assume that Lily at least told them about his sister and her views about magic.

He loved Harry don't get me wrong, but not Harry as a Person, but everything that represented Harry. Which makes him unfit. Yes his mental state and the things he went through explains it but not making it okay,trying to get James back through Harry. Both of them used each other as a substitute for James, but Sirius was the adult there. I mainly talked about how he acted after escaping Azkaban. The problem is if you're responsible for a child and there is no one else there, no matter how you feel or how your mental state is doing, you need to be there for said child and be the adult they need. If you don't you fuck up.

[freshtomatoesddd]

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap chp. 6

    “Whoa, what’s that?” Ty Lee’s eyes sparkled in wonder.

    “It’s called a train,” Azula said.

Ty Lee stepped towards the machine. It sat on a bed of rails which stretched far past the horizon, and the ‘train’ itself was a wonder, made out of several carts with the Fire Nation emblem on the front cart. The brunette recalled Azula stating that it was not only capable of transporting equipment and resources, but passengers as well. And as her eyes scanned the metal machine, Ty Lee was able to wrap her head around such a claim.

     “Are you going to let her keep ogling the thing?” Mai asked.

The brunette turned around. Ashy eyes met with the tawny brown of her friend’s, though her gaze had been narrowed down on Ty Lee, a displeased look replacing her usual blasé expression. Azula on the other hand had her eyes fixed onto the brunette. She wondered what to do under Azula’s stare, her mind questioned how it was that she hadn’t grown used to the princess’s routine looks. All she could come up with was a simple wave.

Mai groaned. “Can we just get on already?”

      “Very well,” Azula said.

Ty Lee then boarded the train, along with her friends and about five dozen soldiers. Though, she hadn’t a clue where they were headed. Last she remembered, they were to visit a state near Ba Sing Se, but the princess hadn’t specified which one. She leaned on the fine leather of her seat, pleased that their cart had been made with the same materials as Azula’s office. From the dark varnish of the metal floors, to the cabinets around them which held a number of scrolls, and the dark brown oak of their table. Such a theme rang familiar with her, gave off a sort of comfort she loved.

    “Hey, where are we going anyway?” Ty Lee queried.

     “Kerkaw. We’ll be there by daybreak,” Azula said, the rustling of paper between her fingers.

She turned around to look out the window. There, it seemed that the outside world sped past them. It made Ty Lee wonder if they were the ones moving, or if their environment had taken up to running faster than she imagined it possible. She knew that it was feasible for the ground to move, whether that be from earth quakes or the gradual movement from within the earth. She questioned how many thousand years it would take for the dirt under them to be moving at such speed, similar to what she was experiencing.

An interesting conundrum. She asked herself if human beings were able to survive long enough to see such a day happen, though she knew it to be ‘improbable,’ as Azula would say. Then, she asked if it were possible for the Fire Nation to create faster trains, ones which could zoom past Ba Sing Se till Kerkaw in only an hour. That would be nice.

     “Why are we going there?” Mai asked in a rather dull voice.

Ty Lee took her eyes off the window, her buzzing mind now calmed as Mai’s question brought her back to the present. Her friend looked bored as always.

Azula’s eyes were glued to a text. “My father has assigned me there; he wrote that I was to eliminate a local warlord in Chao.”

Mai shrugged. “Then why are we going to Kerkaw? And why do you have to deal with him?”

    “Mai, you shouldn’t question the Fire Lord’s orders,” Azula said.

    “I’m not, I’m just saying that the Fire Lord could’ve made one of his generals do it. You’re already governing Ba Sing Se, and he wants you to do beat up some warlord on top of that?”

Azula quirked up a brow. “Do you, perhaps, feel inconvenienced?”

     “I do.” Mai’s expression lay blank.

The princess smirked. “Well, I’m sorry that you won’t be able to read any of my dear brother’s letters till we get back. Truly, I pity the both of you.”

    “Whatever,” Mai said.

Ty Lee jumped in. “Hey, come on guys, calm down. And besides, isn’t this cool? I mean, we’re on a train.”

Mai looked at her. “What about it?”

The brunette leaned in as she grabbed Mai’s arms. “Are you kidding me? We’re going a million kilometers an hour, I never even knew this was possible.”

    “You’ve never been on a train before?” Mai asked, retracting from Ty Lee’s grasp.

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “No, have you?”

Mai shrugged. “A couple of times. But I got to say, the constant smog and depressing interior isn’t for me.”

The brunette gasped. “What—Really? But the trains in Ba Sing Se aren’t like that.”

    “No, the ones in the mainland.”

    “They have trains in the mainland now?”

Mai nodded.

    “Wow, that’s so cool. Why didn’t you tell me?” Ty Lee asked.

     “I thought we’d get back sooner,” Mai’s eyes veered off to the side, “Then you’ll see all the stuff you missed since you joined the circus.”

Azula joined in. “Even if you have been on a train before, none would compare in terms of speed.”

Mai rolled her eyes. “What does it matter? They’re all the same anyway.”

     “I wouldn’t say that,” Azula flipped to another page, “I personally oversaw the creation of this one.”

Again, Ty Lee gasped. “How did you get it to run super-fast?”

Azula looked up for a brief moment. “I wouldn’t know. I told the engineers that they had better make a faster model, and so they did.”

Though disappointed at such a simple answer, Ty Lee figured that even with a detailed reply, she wouldn’t be able to make sense of it. But still, the fact that they were able to sit inside such a wonder of engineering, she couldn’t help but to continue staring out the window. Ty Lee wondered what the trains in the mainland were like, and if they truly couldn’t compete in terms of speed, as well as power.

As the ride went on, Ty Lee struck up conversation with Mai. Though she noted that the latter was reluctant to join in, as most all the topics Mai found to be uninteresting. They spoke of the train, as Ty Lee couldn’t stop fawning over how advanced and ‘cool’ it was. Mai commented on how backwards the circus must be, to the point that they never bothered to use a train as means of transport. Ty Lee laughed as she recalled how she had to pack her tent every time they would re-locate, a statement which left Mai speechless.

    “How do you even pack a tent?” she asked.

Ty Lee placed a hand on her chin. “Well, it’s not that hard, especially since mine wasn’t that big.”

      “How did you live like that for three years?”

Ty Lee scratched the back of her head, she hummed. “I never really thought about it, honestly. I was happy, and that’s all that mattered to me.”

    “So, you’re fine with anything as long as it makes you happy?”

The brunette hummed once more. “Well, I wouldn’t say anything, but yeah, basically.”

Mai pursed her lips. “Right.”

Their conversation moved on to another topic, one which concerned what interesting happenings have been going on in their lives. And keeping with such a theme, Ty Lee had one burning question to ask her friend. She leaned in, a grin stuck onto her face, one which granted a rather concerned look from Mai. Though, the brunette couldn’t help that she was curios, any sane person with a working pair of eye balls would want to prove their suspicions correct.

    “You still haven’t told me about Zuko,” Ty Lee’s words came out in a frantic haste, each syllable laced with intrigue.

Mai rolled her eyes. “Why do you care?”

Ty Lee’s grin persisted. “I think you know why.”

The girl sighed, stoking the burning interest within Ty Lee’s psyche. Whereas before she held a mere sense of curiosity, now she was rivetted, compelled to find out more of her friend’s love life. Of course, she knew that it wasn’t quite nice to put one’s nose where it didn’t belong. But Ty Lee figured that they were close enough to speak of such things with each other, without a need for shame at that. And if Mai required a little shove to fess up, Ty Lee was more than happy to oblige.

      “Come on, come on, come on. Tell me, tell me, I know you want to tell me,” Ty Lee repeated those words like a chant, one which could grant her the wish she so desired.

     “Fine. What do you want to know?” Mai growled.

Ty Lee clasped her hands together as she made incomprehensible noises. Her feet stomped the metal floor multiple times as her mind raced to search for what to say, and which topic she’d delve into. Amidst her squealing, Ty Lee managed to cherry pick a subject. One so influential, that to not learn its truth would rob her of the fulfilling life she so desperately desired. That being Mai and Zuko’s relationship status.

    “Are you and Zuko together yet?” she asked through bated breath.

Mai took in a breath. “Yes, we are. There, I told you, now stop talking.”

Again, Ty Lee squealed in excitement. A giddiness came from her stomach and made its way through her entire body, coursing through her veins like some type of drug she’s never heard of. Like a child after receiving candy, she couldn’t be bothered to lay still. Her feet continued to stomp on the floor, her arms fidgeting on her side, grin molded onto the girls now sore cheeks. She leaned in, eyes twinkled as she was obligated to learn more. She needed to, she had to.

      “And? How is it like?” she asked.

      “How should I know? We haven’t even met in person.”

Ty Lee pouted. “Aw, come on, Mai. You’ve been writing, right? Can you at least tell me about that?”

Mai sighed. “This is the last question.”

The brunette nodded with a fervent enthusiasm. “Yes, totally. Just tell me already, please, I’m dying.”

Again, Mai sighed. “We’ve been talking about what to do when I get back. But whenever I give him an idea, he always tells me to visit some tea shop instead.”

      “Why a tea shop?” Ty Lee queried.

      “Didn’t I tell you that was the last question?”

Before Ty Lee could say anything, a sharp voice cut through their conversation.

      “No, do tell, why would he want the both of you to visit a tea shop?” Azula asked.

Mai’s eyes widened for a split second, taken aback by the sudden intrusion. “I don’t know, he keeps telling me that the tea there reminded him of his uncle or something.”

The princess quirked up a brow. “I see. Well, that certainly does sound interesting.”

    “Seriously? What’s so fun about going to a tea shop anyways? You just sit down, drink tea and leave,” Mai said in a slight huff.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. Her friend was right, there wasn’t much to do in a tea shop. However, she figured that the purpose of such an establishment was not only limited to selling tea.

     “I don’t think that’s it,” she said, “Yeah sure, you drink and stuff. But since Zuko and you will be going on a date, you’ll also talk. And I mean, that can be fun too.”

Mai rolled her eyes, though Ty Lee was reluctant to believe that her friend brushed off the idea with such ease.

And so, their conversation went on, with minimal to no interruptions from Azula. They spoke of what Ty Lee should do once they reached the mainland, the brunette approximating how much progress she’s yet to see in the three years she was gone. Mai shrugged, noting that though much has changed in terms of technological development and city planning, the people were still the same.

After a few more minutes of conversation, Mai expressed her desire to leave for another cart. She commented on how dull the inside looked, as if someone had taken the interior planning of an office and slathered it all over their cart. Ty Lee questioned how that was a bad thing, adding that it must be some type of innovation, at least in terms of train interior design.

     “Ty Lee, it’s a train. Train’s aren’t supposed to look like offices,” Mai said.

Ty Lee shrugged. “Why not?”

      “Whatever, my point is this cart is boring.”

Azula cut in. “And do you expect the other carts to be exciting? Compared to the others, our cart is far superior. It even has comfortable seating and an efficient cooling unit.”

Mai pointed towards the cabinet next to Azula. “Oh please, how is that superior?”

The princess quirked up a brow. “This cabinet is filled with many interesting scrolls to read, perfect for killing time till we reach Kerkaw.”

The girl blinked a few times. “Right, and what sort of interesting scrolls are inside that cabinet?”

      “That depends, what do you like to read?” Azula asked.

      “I don’t like reading,” the girl said, a blank look on her face.

Azula scoffed. “Well, too bad. I suppose you’ll have to find something else to do till we get there.”

      “I will.” Mai turned around and left.

With nobody but the two of them, Ty Lee inched closer to the princess, who’s eyes meticulously scanned through the text. She came so close that no space was between them, the princess paying no mind. Ty Lee pursed her lips as she wondered what Azula was reading, and if it were something far beyond her realm of comprehension. Though, even if it were, she wouldn’t mind having the princess explain at length the many intricacies of the text.

She asked Azula what it was that had captured her attention for much of the ride. The princess eyes attention on the paper; she spoke in a low voice. “Something.”

Ty Lee frowned. She slid closer once more, to snatch a glimpse of what Azula had been reading. Much to her surprise, she found that the text bore a story she was quite familiar with. One which told of a passionate summer between star-crossed lovers, and one that had piqued her interest so that it became Ty Lee’s favorite scroll to read. That is to say, if she had even bothered to read any scrolls for the past few months.

     “I thought you didn’t like romance,” she said.

The princess’s attention didn’t stray. “I don’t.”

Ty Lee furrowed her brows. “So, why are you reading that then?”

     “It was a whim,” Azula said.

Ty Lee quirked up a brow. “Right, totally. Where did you even get that?”

     “I bought it in Ba Sing Se. Though the subject matter itself taboo, there is no legal ban. And even if there was, I doubt they would’ve been able to enforce it,” Azula said.

Ty Lee tilted her head, bewildered by the princess’s sudden change of heart. “Yeah, and I’m supposed to believe that you don’t hate romance all of a sudden?”

     “What else do you want me to tell you?” Azula asked, “I’ve given you the truth, yet you don’t believe me. Do you, perhaps, want me to lie?”

The brunette rested her head on Azula’s shoulder, her thin fingers ran down her lover’s back. “I never said that.”

      “My point stands. If you don’t believe the truth, what do you want me to do?” Azula asked.

Ty Lee paused for a moment as her mind came up with the right words to form her next few sentences. As she remained silent, her hand continued to run up and down Azula’s back. She hummed, both from her lover’s warmth and through force of habit. Her psyche raced past the many possible questions and statements for her to say, Ty Lee at one point lost on how the conversation even started. By the end, she settled for a simple reply.

     “I mean. No, I don’t want that. It’s just, I kinda find it hard to believe that you can tolerate it now,” she said.

Azula closed the text, Ty Lee eyes wandered up as they were met with a fierce stare. The princess leaned in, their face mere inches apart.

      “Would you like to know?” The princess asked.

Ty Lee nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest of it here ;) https://archiveofourown.org/works/28172334/chapters/70425006

[fantastic-secrets]

Butterfly Wings [1]

Fandom: Bleach

Summary: "Have you ever wondered what would happen if you tore off a butterfly's wings? Do you think it would crawl on the ground, struggling to survive? Or would it just die slowly, deprived of its freedom?"

When Gin joins the Fifth Division of the Gotei 13 to keep an eye on Aizen and carry out his revenge, the Vice-Captain welcomes him with open arms. Soon, they’re playing a game of cat-and-mouse, each trying to guess what the other knows and their motives. Aizen, in particular, seems to enjoy pushing Gin down into the mire, and for Gin, there’s no turning back.

Characters: Ichimaru Gin, Aizen Sousuke

Warnings: Murder, Innuendo

Word Count: 1.8k

He wasn't unfamiliar with death. But there was always something different about taking a life with his own hands. Despite the presence behind him, he didn't move as he gazed down at the lump of flesh, composing his feelings. This was just the first step in his plan, and his goal was much too important to ever make a misstep.

The events of the evening had been carefully choreographed from the moment he stepped onto the grounds this morning. During the tour, he'd carefully paid attention to his surroundings, fixing in mind where the seated officers' quarters were and the ideal location in which to call out his opponent. Then, with just the right balance of flattery and confidence, he'd asked for a private practice match, fully aware that his reputation preceded him. The other man's pride--and his fear of having that pride dragged into the mud before everyone else--sealed the deal. Really, the most difficult part was making sure that he was caught by just the right person; anyone else, and all his careful efforts would be rendered entirely useless. It couldn't appear to be anything but a coincidence, so as not to raise suspicion, and despite his calm facade, his heart had been racing the whole time, until he sensed someone stop to watch them. Watching, but not raising a hand… not even when his opponent had called out for help in desperation, finally relinquishing his foolish pride as he grasped for life. And that was when he was certain, and he had struck the final blow without hesitation and with a quieting heart. 

So when his companion finally spoke, he was able to turn and greet him with a smile and a tone of calm indifference despite being half-covered in blood. But it really was strange, how easy it was to defeat the third seat. Even if his opponent had never seriously considered the possibility that a mere "kid" would really try to kill him, he had been way too soft. If this was the level of the Gotei 13, it really was no surprise that Soul Society couldn't even keep its affairs in order. So when the fukutaichou asked for his opinion, he answered truthfully, and not just because that was the answer Aizen expected.

"Completely useless. What a joke."

That slight smile told him everything: he had passed the first test. He had the resolve to kill another human and the skills to fulfill the task. Of course, Gin wasn't naive enough to think that Aizen trusted him at all with just that, but that would come in time. On the other hand, the fukutaichou was highly respected and renowned as a kind man; Rangiku had gushed about how lucky he was to have been accepted into the Fifth Company and the importance of making a good impression on his superiors. At the time, Gin had reassured her that that was exactly what he intended to do.

"Ichimaru-kun, I would like you to be my subordinate."

Still grinning, Gin tilted his head as though he was puzzled by the statement. "Ain't I already, though, Aizen-fukutaichou? I'm part'a the Fifth Company like ya, right? 'less you're saying ya think I wanna fight ya for yer seat, or the taichou's. I ain't that good."

"Not yet, but perhaps in the future," Aizen agreed, favoring him with another smile that said he saw right through Gin's innocent charade. "Now, wash up and go back to bed. I'll take care of the cleanup here."

It wasn't until much later that Gin learned just how the fukutaichou had managed to disguise the murder as a suicide. But in the end, nobody questioned the situation when the body was found the next day, or challenged his assignment to the third seat. There was certainly some resentment over the fact that a recruit fresh from the Academy would be given the position, but everyone recognized that the so-called genius was more than qualified to hold it.

So like a shadow, Gin was often found trailing behind Aizen, always smiling and eager to please his superior. "A creepy kid" seemed to be the general consensus about him, and many seemed relieved that he had attached himself so closely to the highly respected fukutaichou, as if they expected that Aizen would keep him in check. But really, it wasn't as though he had ever been caught doing something wrong. He was just too clever, too strong, and too young… combined with his polite indifference towards most, it scared people. Both of them recognized that truth, and so Gin did nothing that would challenge that perception, because that was what Aizen wanted.

The only person who truly trusted him was Rangiku, and only around his childhood friend could Gin relax. Between his company duties and her classes, he couldn't see her often, but the brief moments of relative peace that they shared together were worth it. Although Rukongai had practically been a living hell, if there was anything that he missed about it, it was the way they had created their own universe together with just the two of them. He didn't resent her or her new friends, though: she'd always been more sociable than him, and he was glad that her world was being filled with color and laughter. But sometimes, he felt like her complaints and teasing were the only thing keeping him sane as his own world sank into the shadows.

In retrospect, though, he'd still been too naive. He'd never actively tried to hide their relationship from his fukutaichou, knowing that it would be a futile effort. Aizen watched the third seat too closely, clearly still cautious despite their shared complicity.  And even if he hadn't, he was clever enough to notice if Gin was hiding something from him and persistent enough to figure out what it was. So long as Rangiku didn't get in the way of his plans, she wasn't worth his notice… or so Gin believed.

Several years later, Gin stepped silently into Aizen's office, his usual smile affixed to his face as he greeted the other man. 

"Ya called fer me, Aizen-fukutaichou?"

"Ah, Gin. I was hoping to get your opinion on something. Please, sit."

Obediently, Gin lowered himself onto the cushion that Aizen indicated, puzzled. In all the time that they'd worked together, Aizen had never sincerely asked for his opinion on anything, not since the night he'd killed the former third seat. Would it be another test, or was it a sign that he was beginning to earn Aizen's trust?

He accepted the document that the older man offered to him, opening it to reveal Rangiku's Academy report. Carefully, he read through it before looking back up, with his expression as noncommittal as ever.

"So whatcha wanna ask, then?"

"I was thinking about inviting her to join the Fifth Company. The taichou is rather ambivalent about her, but she's your friend, right? I wouldn't mind putting in a word for your sake, since you've been so helpful to us."

A chill crept into Gin's bones as he shrugged, acutely aware of the fukutaichou's steady gaze under the lightness of his words. He'd expected that Aizen would be aware of his friendship, but this possibility had never occurred to him. He didn't want Rangiku anywhere near Aizen, not only because of what had happened in the past, but also since it seemed just as likely that she'd end up as yet another casualty of the man's charisma. Even with the experiments, she'd be safer elsewhere. Carefully, he considered his words before he spoke. 

"Nah, ya don't need t' do that. You saw her report, too. She ain't anything more than an average shinigami, so she wouldn't be able t' help ya much. I 'preciate ya thinkin' 'bout me, but she'd just get in the way here. It ain't like I can't see her if she's in a diff'rent company."

Aizen nodded, as kind and understanding as ever, though his eyes never left Gin's face.

"She's a fairly attractive woman, though, isn't she? Still a bit young, but she's got promise. Are you seeing her romantically?"

At that, Gin's smile widened slightly, making him even more inscrutable than usual, even as he shook his head. 

"We ain't like that, Aizen-fukutaichou. We were just friends, growin' up in Rukongai. 'sides, her other friends don't seem t' like me much. She probably doesn't even really need me anymore."

"And that doesn't upset you?"

"Would ya like it to?" Though the words sounded like a challenge, Gin's tone was as casual as always. The contrast seemed to surprise a chuckle out of the other man, though he caught himself quickly, holding out a hand. Obediently, Gin moved to return the report, only to be startled himself when Aizen grabbed his wrist, tugging him closer so he was half-sprawled over the desk. The smile slipped from his face, and his eyes slitted open slightly, revealing a flash of blue in his otherwise pale complexion. Bemused, he watched with wary caution as Aizen's free hand moved deliberately toward his face, tucking under his chin to tilt his face up.

"Your eyes are quite beautiful, Gin. It's a pity that I don't get to see them more often." Though Gin had tensed, he didn't resist as those slender fingers drifted closer to his eyes, tugging his lids wider and applying a gentle, steady pressure. "But I also feel jealous when I think that others might also see them. I'd like to take them out and keep them locked away, just for myself. What do you think about that, Gin?"

Slowly, the smile returned to Gin's face as he relaxed despite Aizen's terrifying words. "If that's what ya think is best. Though I dunno if I could be as good as Tousen-san."

For a long moment, the threatening pressure remained, and then Aizen released Gin, allowing the younger man to return to his seat and smooth down his robes.

"It truly would be a pity to lose your skills," Aizen agreed. Then, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened at all, he continued, "You're certain, then, that you don't want me to invite Matsumoto-kun to our division?"

"Prob'ly best that way. But thanks fer lookin' out fer me," Gin answered with an empty smile. Aizen nodded a dismissal, so Gin got up and left, making his way back to his rooms. Only once he had closed the door behind him did he collapse in a flood of relief.

He wasn't sure how much of his words Aizen had believed, but Rangiku would be safe. At least from their superficial conversation, the fukutaichou wouldn't extend that proposed invitation. His hand trembled slightly as it reached up to touch his eye, as though making certain it was still there. If Aizen had tried to rip them out, Gin would have let him, but that didn't make the prospect of blindness any less terrifying. He also couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed something, in those long moments. He hadn't failed the test… but he hadn't quite passed it, either.

[arcticdementor]

“Hey bro! Check out this Nike ad!” This was my entry point into a new world.

…

Since Carlos had lived mostly outside the United States, he was able to follow soccer on a level I’d never encountered in my hometown. Back then, before social media and the advent of scarf-wearing Northwestern fútbol hipsters, big-time European soccer was like the metric system: Known to almost all but ourselves. But Carlos knew, and immediately used LimeWire to curate me a massive archive of 1990s through early 2000s soccer highlights. What was I doing in the world without them?

Oddly enough, in trying to inculcate me in soccer fandom, he started not with game highlights, but with the advertisements. Yes, Carlos was an educator and a voluntary footsoldier for Big Apparel. Going in, I had no clue about high-quality, internationally popular Nike soccer ads. The ads, written by the legendary Wieden+Kennedy firm, were miniature movies, films that were often creatively daring but also quite funny. The most popular of these ads might be “Good vs. Evil,” from 1996, where Nike’s best soccer players team up to play Satan’s literal army. The blending of sacrilege, theology and comedy just worked, like a more ambitious version of Space Jam that somehow took itself less seriously than Space Jam.

…

Yes, I know ads aren’t supposed to be high art. I understand that they are the purest distillation of manipulative greed. And yet, they sometimes are culturally relevant generational touchstones. While Nike was weaving soccer into enduring pop culture abroad, it was having a similar kind of success with basketball and baseball stateside. These ads weren’t just pure ephemera. Michael Jordan’s commercials were so good that, as he nears age 60, his sneaker still outsells any modern athlete’s. “Chicks dig the long ball” is a phrase (a) that can get you sent to the modern HR department and b) whose origins are fondly remembered by most American men over the age of 35.

Modern Nike ads will never be so remembered. It’s not because we’re so inundated with information these days, though we are. And it’s not because today’s overexposed athletes lack the mystique of the 1990s superstars, though they do. It’s because the modern Nike ads are beyond fucking terrible.

…

They’re bad for many causes, but one in particular is an incongruity at the company’s heart. Nike, like so many major institutions, is suffering from what I’ll call Existence Dissonance. It’s happening in a particular way, for a particular reason and the result is that what Nike is happens to be at cross-purposes from what Nike aspires to be.

…

For all the talk of a racial reckoning within major industries, Nike’s main problem is this: It’s a company built on masculinity, most specifically Michael Jordan’s alpha dog brand of it. Now, due to its own ambitions, scandals, and intellectual trends, Nike finds masculinity problematic enough to loudly reject.

This rejection is part of the broader culture war, but it’s accelerating due to an arcane quirk in the apparel giant’s strange restructuring plan, announced in June. Under the leadership of new CEO John Donahoe, Nike is moving away from its classic discrete sports categories (Nike Basketball, Nike Soccer, etc.) in favor of a system where all products are shoveled into one of three divisions: men’s, women’s and kids’. Obviously Nike made clothing tailored to the specificities of all these groups before, but now, Nike is emphasizing gender over sport. Gone is the model of the product appealing to basketball fans because they are basketball fans. It’s now replaced by a model of, say, the product appealing to women because they are women.

And hey, women buy sneakers too. Actually, women buy the lion’s share of clothing in the United States. While women shoppers are market dominant in nearly every aspect of American apparel, the clothing multinational named after a Greek goddess happens to be a major exception. At Nike, according to its own records, men account for roughly twice as much revenue as women do.

You might see that stat and think, “Well, this means that Nike will prioritize men over women in its new, odd, gendered segmentation of the company.” That’s not necessarily how this all works, thanks to a phenomenon I’ll call Undecided Whale. The idea is that a company, as its aims grow more expansive, starts catering less to the locked-in core customer and more to a potential whale which demonstrates some interest. Sure, you can just keep doing what’s made you rich, but how can you even focus on your primary business with that whale out there, swimming so tantalizingly close? The whale, should you bring it in, has the potential to enrich you far more than your core customers ever did. And yeah yeah yeah, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but those were birds. This is a damned whale! And so you start forgetting about your base.

You can see this dynamic in other places. For the NBA, China is its Undecided Whale. It could be argued that the NBA fixates more on China than on America, even if the vast majority of TV money comes from U.S. viewership. The league figures it has more or less hit its ceiling in its home country, so China becomes an obsession as this massive, theoretical growth engine.

…

Here’s the main issue for Nike in this endeavor: The company, as a raison d’être, promotes athletic excellence. While women are among Nike’s major sports stars, the core of high-level performance, in the overwhelming majority of sports, is male. Every sane person knows that, though nobody in professional class life seems rude enough to say so. Obviously, there’s the observable reality of who tends to set records and there’s also the pervasive understanding that testosterone, the main male sex hormone, happens to give unfair advantages to the athletes who inject it.

Speaking of which, there’s a famous This American Life episode from 2002 where the public radio journos actually test their own testosterone levels. The big joke of the episode is just how comically low their T levels are. Sure, you would stereotype bookish public radio men in this way, and yet the results are on the nose enough to shock.

As a nerdy media-weakling type, I can relate to the stunning realization that you’ve been largely living apart from T. Before working in the NBA setting, I was an intern in the cubicles of Salon.com’s San Francisco office, around the time it was shifting from respectable online magazine into inane outrage content mill. Going from that setting to the NBA locker room was some jarring whiplash, like leaving the faculty lounge for a pirate ship. To quote Charles Barkley on the latter culture, “The locker room is sexist, racist, and homophobic … and it’s fun and I miss it.”

…

The “Good vs. Evil” ad boasts a “Like” to “Dislike” ratio of 20-to-1 on YouTube. On June 17th of 2021, Nike put out an ad ahead of the Euro Cup that referenced “Good vs. Evil” as briefly as it could. In this case, a little child popped his collar and used Cantona’s catchphrase. As of this writing, the new ad has earned a thousand more punches of the Dislike than of the Like button.

When you see it, it’s no surprise that the latest Euro Cup ad is disliked. I mean, you have to look at this shit. I know we’re so numb to the ever-escalating emanations of radical chic from our largest corporations, but sometimes it’s worth pausing just to take stock and gawk.

…

But today we are in the land of new football, where we take dictatorial direction from less-than-athletic minors. After her announcement, we are treated to a montage of different people who offer tolerance bromides.

“There are no borders here!”

“Here, you can be whoever you want. Be with whoever you want.”

(Two men kiss following that line, because subtlety isn’t part of this new world order.)

Then, a woman who appears to be breastfeeding under a soccer shirt, threatens, in French, “And if you disagree …”

And this is when the little boy gives us Cantona’s “au revoir” line before kicking a ball out of a soccer stadium, presumably because that’s what happens to the ignorant soccer hooligan. He gets kicked out for raging against gay men kissing or French ladies breastfeeding or somesuch. Later, a referee wearing a hijab instructs us, “Leave the hate,” before narrator girl explains, “You might as well join us because no one can stop us.”

Is that last line supposed to be … inspiring? That’s what a movie villain says, like if Bane took the form of Stan Marsh’s sister. Speaking of which, was this ad actually written by the creators of South Park as an elaborate prank? It’s certainly more convincing as an aggressive parody of liberals than as a sales pitch. Why, in anything other than a comedic setup, is a woman breastfeeding in a big-budget Euro Cup ad?

It’s tempting to fall into the pro-vanguardism template the boomers have handed down to us and sheepishly say, “I must be getting old, because this seems weird to me,” but let’s get real. You dislike this ad because it sucks. You are having a natural, human response to shitty art. This a hollow sermon from a priest whose sins were in the papers. Nobody is impressed by what Nike’s doing here. Nobody thinks Nike, a multinational famous for its sweatshops, is ushering us into an enlightened utopia. Sure, most media types are afraid to criticize the ad publicly. You might inspire suspicion that what you’re secretly against is men kissing and women breastfeeding, but nobody actually likes the stupid ad. No college kid would show it to a new friend he’s trying to impress, and it’s hard to envision a massive cohort of Gen Z women giving a shit about this ad either.

Now juxtapose that ad not just against the classics of the 1990s but also the 2000s products that preceded the Great Awokening. Compare it to another Nike Euro Cup advertisement, Guy Ritchie’s “Take It to the Next Level.”

…

Here’s the problem, insofar as problems are pretended into existence by our media class: The ad is very, very male. Really, what we are watching here is a boyhood fantasy. Our protagonist gets called up to the big show, and next thing you know he’s cavorting with multiple ladies, and autographing titties to the chagrin of his date. He can be seen buying a luxury sports car and arriving at his childhood home in it as his father beams with pride. Training sessions show him either puking from exhaustion or playing grab-ass with his fellow soccer bros. This is jock life, distilled. Art works when it’s true and it’s true that this is a vivid depiction of a common fantasy realized.

Nike’s highly successful “Write the Future” ad (16,000 Likes, 257 Dislikes) works along similar themes.

…

The recent Olympic ads were especially heavy on cringe radical chic, and might have stood out less in this respect if the athletes themselves mirrored that tone on the big stage. Not so much in these Olympics. It seems as though Nike made the commercials in preparation for an explosion of telegenic activism, only to see American athletes mostly, quietly accept their medals, chomp down on the gold, and praise God or country. Perhaps you could consider Simone Biles bowing out of events due to mental health as a form of activism, but overall, the athletes basically behaved in the manner they would have back in 1996.

But Nike forged onwards anyway. This ad in celebration of the U.S. women’s basketball team made some waves, getting ripped in conservative media as the latest offense by woke capital.

…

“Today I have a presentation on dynasties,” a pink-haired teenage girl tells us. “But I refuse to talk about the ancient history and drama. That’s just the patriarchy. Instead, I’m going to talk about a dynasty that I actually look up to. An all-women dynasty. Women of color. Gay women. Women who fight for social justice. Women with a jump shot. A dynasty that makes your favorite men’s basketball, football, and baseball teams look like amateurs.”

When she says, “That’s just the patriarchy,” the camera pans to a bust of (I think) Julius Caesar. At another point, the girl says, “A dynasty that makes Alexander the Great look like Alexander the Okay.” Fuck you, Classical Antiquity. Fuck you, fans of teams. You’re all just the patriarchy. Or something.

Nike could easily sell the successful American women’s basketball team without denigrating other teams, genders and ancient Mediterranean empires that have nothing to do with this. Could but won’t. The company now conveys an almost visceral need for women to triumph over men because … well, nobody really explains why, even if it has something to do with Undecided Whaling. In Nike’s tentpole Olympics ad titled “Best Day Ever,” the narrator fantasizes about the future, declaring, “The WNBA will surpass the NBA in popularity!” ​

…

There are theories on the emergence of woke capital, with many having observed that, following Occupy Wall Street, media institutions ramped up on census category grievance. The thinking goes that, in response to the threat of a real economic revolution, the power players in our society pushed identity politics to undermine group solidarity. Well, that was a fiendishly brilliant plan, if anyone actually hatched it.

I’m not so convinced, though, as I’m more inclined to believe that a lot of history happens by happenstance. If we’re to specifically analyze the Nike Awokening, there is a recent top-down element of a mandate for Undecided Whaling, but that mandate was preceded by a socially conscious middle class campaign within the company.

This isn’t unique to Nike, either. Given my past life covering the team that tech moguls root for, I’ve run into such people. They aren’t, by and large, ideological. Very few are messianically devoted to seeing the world through the intersectionality lens. They are, however, terrified of their employees who feel this way. The mid-tier labor force, this cohort who actually internalized their university teachings, are full of fervor and willing to risk burned bridges in favor of causes they deem righteous. The big bosses just don’t want a headline-making walkout on their hands, so they placate and mollify, eventually bending the company’s voice into language of righteousness.

…

All the guilt and atonement transference make for bad art. And so the ads suck. There’s no Machiavellian conspiracy behind the production. It’s just a combination of desperately wanting female market share and desperately wanting to move on from the publicized sins of a masculine past. So, to message its ambitions, the exhausted corporation leans on the employees with the loudest answers.

There’s a lot of interplay between Nike and Wieden+Kennedy when the former asks the latter for a type of ad, but the through line from both sides is a lot of cooks in the kitchen. Based on conversations with people who’ve worked in both environments, there’s a dearth of personnel who are deeply connected to sports. In place of a grounding in a subculture, you’re getting ideas from folks who went to nice colleges and trendy ad schools, the type of people who throw words like “patriarchy” at the screen to celebrate a gold medal victory. The older leaders, uneasy in their station and thus obsessed with looking cutting edge, lean on the younger types because the youth are confident. Unfortunately, that confidence is rooted in an ability to regurgitate liturgy, rather than generative genius. They’ve a mandate to replace a marred past, which they leap at, but they’re incapable of inventing a better future.

…

Ironically, Nike mattered a lot more in the days when its position was less dominant. Back when it had to really fight for market share, it made bold, genre-altering art. The ads were synonymous with masculine victory, plus they were cheekily irreverent. And so the dudes loved them. Today, Nike is something else. It LARPs as a grandiose feminist nonprofit as it floats aimlessly on the vessel Michael Jordan built long ago. Like Jordan himself, Nike is rich forever off what it can replicate never. Unlike Jordan, it now wishes to be known for anything but its triumphs. Nike once told a story and that story resonated with its audience. Now it’s decided that its audience is the problem. It wouldn’t shock you to learn that Carlos hated the new Nike ads I texted to him. His exact words were, “I don’t want fucking activism from a sweatshop monopoly.” He’ll still buy the gear, though, just not the narrative. Nike remains, but the story about itself has run out. Au revoir. 

[sserpente]

A/N: Premiere night! You’re all familiar with Arthur Curry aka Aquaman? Yep, as promised, I’ve officially added him to my list. Enjoy reading, my lovelies!

Words: 1548 Warnings: none

Alone. Alone would be what described you best. You were alone. There was no family left for you to turn to when you were sad, no friends to hang out with when you were feeling lonely… not even a dog that would cuddle with you to dry your tears.

You had always been alone, travelled from foster home to foster home and got bullied for having no parents. No time to make friends, no time to build yourself a life every teenager wished to have. By the time you finally were of age, you had accepted your destiny, your own personal misery.

All you had left now were the waves. Of course it sounded crazy. But the sea—vast, deep, mysterious and downright beautiful—had perhaps been the only thing you had ever considered a real friend. When you rid the waves on your surfboard, you forgot the world around you. You forgot your problems, your loneliness and your sorrows. You felt at ease.

When you had found that tiny island right around the corner of the bay you resided in, you had for once beamed with happiness. Breath-taking waves for you to surf on—all to yourself. You considered it your birthday present. It was the little things that made you happy, after all.

But all that was before a tall, muscly and long-haired man suddenly emerged from the water and turned your whole life upside down.

One thing you loved about your little island was the quiet. It was all yours—there was no one else. Ironic, really, considering you had been dealing with loneliness all your life.

Wading through the water, you wrung out your wet hair and marched towards your beach towel after digging your surfboard into the sand to dry. Then, you sank down on the ground and stretched, enjoying the warm sunbeams on your wet skin. The loud splashing sound you did ignore—probably just another wave breaking against the sharp rocks next to you.

But that was when something—or rather, someone suddenly stepped right in front of you, shielding you from the sun. It got dark. Squinting, you made out a tall, long-haired man with countless tattoos on his body… his muscles proved he was not to be meddled with.

You frowned. Granted, he was hot. But you were in no mood for another stupid pick-up line.

“Can I help you?” You began disinterested.

“You’re scaring the fish.”

Blinking, you sat up. “Excuse me?”

“Your surfing is scaring the fish.”

“Right. I don’t know what drugs you’re dealing with and are obviously high on but I’m not interested.”

The stranger chuckled, almost as if he had expected resistance. He let out a sigh and knelt down to look you in the eye. His expression darkened a little—the inevitable danger radiating off of him fascinated you… and so did the blue of his eyes.

“Listen, doll. You surfers have already scared them away from the bay. Why don’t you just surf there?”

“Oh yeah, have they told you that?” You rolled your eyes. Who the hell did that guy think he was?!

The stranger shrugged. “They have, actually. Now I’m gonna ask you nicely because you’re a lady—get off this island. Please.”

“Are you the owner?”

“Huh?”

“The owner. Of this island. Does it belong to you?”

“No.”

“Then mind your own fucking business.” You spat, lying back down again. Stubbornly, you closed your eyes, attempting to blend him out. Perhaps you had no friends because of your rather brusque attitude. But this island was your only source of happiness. You were not going to let a handsome stranger take that away from you. Especially not on your birthday and not because you were apparently scaring fish.

“Okay. So we’re doing this the hard way where I grab that pretty surfboard of yours and break it in two?”

You were fuming. And the absurd thing was that you actually believed he would be able to make truth to his words. You couldn’t quite tell whether he was trying to tease you on purpose or if he simply was an arsehole. Maybe he was both.

Grunting, you sat up again.

“Listen up, fish guy. You can’t just show up and tell random people to get off islands if you don’t own them. It’s not like I’m pouring oil into the ocean or fishing with live-baits to grill some fish over a bonfire. I’m just surfing. And I’m not gonna let you stop me from the last thing that is keeping me…” Sane, you concluded mutely. Your life story was none of his business either, obviously.

The stranger pouted. “It’s Aquaman, actually.”

“I don’t care.”

“Hmm. You’re charming.” He commented sarcastically and got up, brushing the sand off his hands. “I’ll let you off with a warning. But if you’re back here tomorrow, say goodbye to your damn surfboard.”

And then, just like that, after giving said surfboard a gentle pat, he jumped straight into the water. He had gone within seconds.

For the rest of the day, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get him out of your head. Part of you was tempted to go back to the island tomorrow and see if he would actually go through with his stupid threat… the other wanted to scream at you for even considering such a thing. There was something… off about this guy… which was perhaps why you just couldn’t forget him.

One of your annual birthday traditions was it to buy a cake. There weren’t many occasions you got to treat yourself after all. Besides, you didn’t have the money to do so anyway. The local bakery was small and always smelled of sweet icing—you loved spending time in there and occasionally, buying a cupcake… usually, when you were on your period and craved sugar.

Clearing your throat, you walked up to the clerk behind the counter.

“Hey, um… I’m here to pick up my birthday cake?” You began quietly. Oh, it was so pathetic, wasn’t it? Buying your own cake because there was no one there to celebrate with you… every single year.

“Oh yes, your order from this morning. Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Happy birthday, my love. Let me go and fetch it for you.”

“Thanks.” Nodding, you made use of the time and pulled out a couple of bills. Cakes were expensive these days. Lucky for you, birthdays only happened once a year. While you waited, lost in thought, you let your gaze roam through the shop. They had re-decorated. It looked rather pretty.

But you tensed, eyes widening when you suddenly spotted the man sitting at a table in the corner, quietly sipping coffee.

It was fish guy. And he was looking right at you.

Just your luck.

“Thank you!” Relieved, you took the cake the clerk handed you a moment later and in return put the money on the counter.

“Keep the change!” With that, you turned on your heel, attempting to bold the shop. Reckless part of you surging within you or not, the urge to flee was bigger.

“Hey, wait up!” Especially when you heard his deep voice behind you. Oh, great.

Sighing, you stopped.

“What do you want?”

“I see you’ve left the island. Thank you.” Raising your eyebrows, you stared him down.

“I haven’t said anything about not coming back tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he replied darkly. There was something about his voice. Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. But it was seriously hot.

You narrowed your eyes at him. You didn’t like the effect this strange man had on your body. Traitor. “Are you done threatening me?”

“I’m not threatening you. But…” He pouted. “There will be consequences if you don’t do what I asked you to.”

“That is the definition of threatening, you moron. Now get out of my way.”

But Aquaman wouldn’t budge an inch. Crossing his arms before his chest, he grinned cheekily as he stepped aside to block the exit.

“So you’re, uh, collecting your own birthday cake?”

“Yes. You got a problem with that?”

He shrugged.

“It’s just a little sad. Don’t you have anyone to celebrate with?”

“What business is that of yours?”

“I see, you don’t.” When you moved, he took another step. And you were slowly starting to freak out. “Join me for a drink at the beach bar down the road. Can’t let a beautiful young woman spend her birthday all alone.”

You blinked. Had he just… asked you out? “What makes you think I would wanna spend time with you? You threatened to break my surfboard!”

Aquaman grinned—smugly this time—and finally stepped aside, holding the door open for you.

“Come on, I’m not that terrible. You got nothing to lose, do you? And you’re not gonna eat the entire cake all alone, or are you? I’m Arthur, by the way.”

Defeated, you shook your head, sighing in the process. “And I am crazy for accepting. My name is (Y/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N). Oh, and happy birthday.”

You only rolled your eyes before following him to the beach bar. At the very least, your special day promised to be interesting, if anything.

A/N: Seriously thinking about writing a Part II.

Guys, if you liked this story, I would appreciate so much if you could support me on KoFi! YOU can help me publish my first novel! It’s easy, it’s anonymous, you can do it from all over the world and it’s just 3€! Your help counts too, I’d appreciate it so much if you helped me fulfil my dream! ♥ ko-fi.com/sserpente  

[finefeatheredfabler]

We’re Doing Just Fine

Why Can’t We Be Friends Chapter 38

2500 words

------------------------------

               “No. No. No! Absolutely not. When did you even have time to put that in my bunker?” John looked down with disgust pasted on his features. Sharky was holding an elaborate costume covered with white and gray fur in the shape of an enormous, humanoid wolf. It was, apparently, called a ‘fursuit’ and Sharky wanted to have sex in it.

               “Please?” Sharky asked with puppy dog eyes. John scowled.

               “No. It’s just…too weird. It’ll make me feel like I’m having sex with my brother Jacob,” he griped. Sharky shrugged.

               “Not sayin’ I would, not sayin’ I wouldn’t but he’s not the worst lookin’ guy in the world.”

               “Christ God, Sharky! I mean…” John lowered his voice when he heard someone passing the door of their room, “I mean because you want to fuck me while dressed up like a wolf, you eternal child,” he hissed. Those sad, puppy dog eyes were too much. John deflated with a loud sigh. “If I do this…” Sharky’s face lit up, “If I do this, you have to agree to a threesome,” he told Sharky in an arrogant tone, sure that it would throw him off.

               “Johnny boy, I think you have seriously misunderestimated how not jealous I am. That is in no way a hard sell for me.” John raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

               “I get to name the person,” he rattled off, feeling for a moment as though he was back in a mediation room on behalf of a client.

               “‘Kay.”

               “And the gender. Could be male or female.” He racked his brain to remember if there were any nonbinary people in the bunker that he could add to the list before closing his mouth and meeting Sharky’s eyes aggressively.

               “Alright,” Sharky agreed casually. Too casually. They stood there for a moment, John panting. He had gotten himself well and truly worked up at this, and he found that he was oddly bothered by the fact that Sharky was so okay with a threesome. John was generally not a fan of other people playing with his toys. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

               “You don’t get to kiss the third person,” John added. Sharky chuckled.

               “Are you jealous, hombre?”

               “That is….beside the point,” John spat.

               “Oh my God,” Sharky laughed. “You’re jealous.” With a flair of drama, John flicked his airplane printed coat off and began rolling up his sleeves professionally, one eyebrow arched in irritation. They had only been stuck in this bunker for a week and already John could feel sanity slipping when he looked at that dead-eyed wolf head that was dangling haphazardly from the rest of the suit slung over Sharky’s arm. He sighed. Might as well get this over with.

               “Are you going to put that on,” he turned to ask, “or have you joined the ranks of sane people and decided not to go through with this?” Sharky leapt into action, peeling his shoes and socks off, fiddling with his belt and shucking his shirt off enthusiastically before pulling his…ugh…his fursuit on. John surveyed him with an air of absolute disgust, but it was what Sharky wanted. “One more stipulation,” he said, raising an index finger imperiously. “You will do me from behind only. I’m not looking at that…getup during.”

               “Doggy style is kind of the point, dude,” Sharky told him, voice muffled by the wolf head helmet he had just jammed on enthusiastically.

               “Jesus Christ,” John muttered, crawling onto the bed.

----

               “Well?” Sharky asked expectantly after removing his fursuit’s head. John rolled his eyes, but he did have a hand sitting on Sharky’s furred belly.

               “It was not…as bad as I thought it would be,” he conceded begrudgingly, picking a gob of fluff from the suit off his inner thigh. “Now please, take it off, it’s time for bed.” Sharky slid from the bed and removed the costume, returning in ragamuffin boxers filled with holes. “I had hoped to show you the luxury of silk underwear before the world went to shit, but I guess that isn’t going to happen now. Pity.”

               “Eh,” Sharky said, scratching a buttcheek absently. “Underwear is underwear.” John gave him a look.

               “You wouldn’t say that if you had any experience whatsoever with silk underwear.”

               “I’ll take your word for it,” Sharky told him, cuddling up to his side and starting to snore a few minutes later. John snuggled a little deeper into the mattress, glad that he had someone to keep him grounded. It wasn’t that he minded being in this bunker, but being in this bunker for five or so years? That did bother him. Especially since the deputy had shown up. They had never seen entirely eye to eye, and you couldn’t fault John for not wanting her in his bunker. After all, their last interaction before coming here had been her threatening to shoot him in the head. But, he thought back, remembering the grieved, agonized look on Sheriff Whitehorse’s face the day of the wreck, remembering the feeling of being picked up by the big man, John had probably had it coming. He shook himself and forced himself to close his eyes and fall asleep.

----

               “Still no radio signal?” Rook asked drowsily, eyes still closed from sleeping.

               “Not yet, kid,” Earl told her from where he sat in the corner. He hadn’t slept much in the week since they had closed the bunker doors. He spent nearly every waking moment staying with Rook protectively. He still didn’t trust that cult doctor, and for good reason. The jackass had injected Rook with a Bliss-based medication for Christ’s sake, and hadn’t that been the problem all along? Both he and Rook had thought the medication Dr. Allen had injected her with had been something commonly used in medicine, but apparently it was a variant on the Bliss healing medication they had formulated. Hopefully, Earl thought, feeling helpless, it wouldn’t hurt the baby, or Rook.

               “Doctor says I can sit up tomorrow, thank god,” Rook murmured after a few moments, breaking his revere as she woke up a bit and stirred. “I’m constantly feeling like I’m gonna blow chunks at this angle. Doctor thinks I’ve got about five more months to go. Hopefully,” she swallowed. “Hopefully we can hear from Jacob by then.” Her voice was wavering at the end of her sentence and she fought back tears, clenching her jaw. She had been so awful to him, before the fight at Joseph’s Compound. She would do anything to take that nasty tone back, would do anything not to look at him like she had done, like he was her enemy again. She lost control of her tears and the sobs came. Earl shushed her and took her hand, stroking the back of it gently with his thumb.

               “It’ll be alright, Rook,” he told her. “It’ll be okay.”

----

               Jacob sat alone and despondent in what should have been their room, face in his hands as he forced himself to just breathe. There was a crib assembled in the corner that made him nauseated to look at. He was supposed to be with his family here. He was supposed to have Joseph and Rook here. He wasn’t supposed to be largely by himself with only his soldiers and the Whitetail Militia, which still did not like him, for company.

               There was a knock at the door.

               “Come,” he said, the first he had used his voice in nearly a week.

               “Jacob,” Eli said softly. “You’ve gotta eat something, man. Come on.”

               “I’m fine,” Jacob told him, tone cold, but his stomach rumbled. Eli sat an MRE next to him and sat in one of the chairs within the relatively spacious room. Perks of being a Herald, he guessed.

               “We can’t let food go to waste, Jacob. You know that better than anybody.”

               “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jacob ground out, remembering the hot coppery taste of Miller’s calf muscle and feeling even less inclined to eat than he had before. Eli frowned.

               “You did the food inventory, man. It’s gonna be close, even if we do trap and hunt in radiation suits. That’s if any animals survive the fallout, of course.”

               Jacob hummed, forcing himself to calm. He and Eli had been close, but he had never told him about Miller. He surveyed his old friend. Eli reminded him a bit of Miller, actually. Same soft brown eyes, similar nose. And always that hopeful tone in their voice, as though nothing would ever actually go so wrong it couldn’t be fixed. Miller had sure as shit been wrong. Eli, Jacob thought, recalling his original plans, had nearly been. How would he have reacted to being killed by the deputy? Jacob sniffed. It was unimportant. Eli met Jacob’s eyes steadily, shoved the MRE a little closer with a cast titanium spork.

               “Eat, Jake,” he ordered softly. “Er…Jacob,” he corrected himself, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

               “Jake,” Jacob corrected softly, cocking his jaw to the side in an expression of deep thought. He reached a big hand out and nearly engulfed the spork, picked the MRE up with the other and cracked it open. Beef stew. Familiar. Salty. Not very good, but…edible.

               “Gotta keep your strength up,” Eli told him. “Never know when we’re gonna get an opportunity to get you to your girl. We’re still checking the radios every hour on the hour. I’ll let you know as soon as anything comes through. I promise.” Jacob nodded, scooping a morsel of unidentifiable vegetable out of the stew and surveying it before he put it in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Eli stood and walked to the door.

               “Eli.” The bearded man turned his head, listening.

               “Thank you.”

----

               Two weeks had passed and Joseph was still weak, pale. Shuddering, he shivered on the cot, moaning a little in pain.

               “He ain’t lookin’ too good,” Dutch murmured to Megan, who was washing the dishes from their meagre tuna and rice dinner. Joseph hadn’t eaten, no matter how much she had tried to get him to. He prayed, and he slept, and he shivered.

               “Something’s wrong. Are you sure we got the whole bullet?” she asked, meeting Dutch’s eyes.

               “Hon, you were there. I got what I could see, but I ain’t a doctor. And…I may not like the guy none, but I don’t want his blood on my hands.” He sighed and stepped into the clinic, unlocking a cabinet. “I was plannin’ on savin’ these for an emergency, more specifically I was planning on saving it after I could come out of this damn bunker, but…” He peaked his head back into the room lit by the glow of his fish tank and watched a sweaty, whimpering Joseph shiver. “I think what we have here constitutes a goddamn emergency. Here,” he said, shoving a white bottle into Megan’s hand. “You gotta get him to eat before he takes these or he’s just gonna throw ‘em up. But I think he’s septic. That’s a broad spectrum antibiotic. Can’t guarantee it’ll do a damn bit of good, but it’s better than nothing.”

               “Thank you, Dutch,” Megan said, hugging his neck suddenly. “Thank you.” He hummed a little growl of acknowledgement and extricated himself from her embrace.

               Megan stepped into the room with a little dollop of watered down rice on a plate. She helped Joseph sit up. There were dark circles under his eyes and he didn’t look the right color, even in the odd blue-green light of the fish tank.

               “Hey sweetheart,” she greeted him.

               “My love,” he murmured. He had lost a bit of muscle mass from not eating much since they had arrived at the bunker and she worried. He looked suddenly so small, felt so much thinner though realistically he had probably only lost about five pounds. She offered him water, which he took weakly, swallowing with a click and a little moan.

               “I need you to eat this, Joseph,” Megan whispered. “Please. I’ve got some medicine for you.”

               “God will heal me,” he said stubbornly, looking nauseated at the thought of eating.

               “Joseph,” she started, tone firm. “I need you alive. I need your help raising our child. Please.” Joseph’s eyes flickered open, looking more alert than they had in days.

               “What?” he asked, sounding flabbergasted. Megan smiled gently, stroking his sweaty hair back out of his face.

               “I think I’m pregnant,” she admitted, pulling him closer. “And I can’t lose you. Please. Eat.” It was as though life had flowed back into him. He struggled upwards and she helped him eat the rice, handed him the pill when he had finished. He swallowed it painfully, but kept it down.

               “The Lord provides,” he murmured, tone filled with wonder as he put a hand on Megan’s abdomen. “And the Lord keeps his promises,” he said, voice nearly breaking as happy tears gathered in his eyes. Megan laughed happily.

               “Yes. Which means you have to keep yours. You have to be the Father. You have to take care of yourself.” She kissed his forehead sweetly, taking his thin face in her hands. “I love you, Joseph Seed.”

               “I love you,” he murmured, beginning to look tired again.

               “Holy shit, it’s finally working!” came a crow of excitement down the hall. Joseph and Megan looked at one another and Megan stood to investigate. She walked into Dutch’s radio room and heard what he was hearing faintly.

               “…stand…me…stand by me…”

----

               Every evening, like clockwork, the broadcast would try to come through, weak and stuttered, and every evening they would try to pick up a stronger signal. They couldn’t be sure of the thing for another week, but once they were, Sharky and Randall, another of the deputy’s former hired guns, sprinted down to her room, knocking loudly on the door. She answered sleepily, a soft robe given to her by John as a sort of peace offering bundled around her and her slightly swollen belly.

               “What?” she asked through a yawn.

               “I’ve got something you’ll want to hear,” Sharky told her, a smile huge on his face.

               Quizzical, she followed him back to the radio room.

               “Listen,” he told her, increasing the volume. It was staticky, but unmistakable.

               “..stand by me, oh stand by me. If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall, or the mountains should crumble to the sea…” Rook was shaking, but she grabbed the microphone and pressed the button to broadcast, singing shakily.

               “I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no, I won’t shed a tear, just as long as you stand, stand by me.”

               “Hey darlin’,” came Jacob’s gravelly voice, slightly warped by static.

               “Hey baby,” Rook choked out.

               “Speaking of…” he let the thought trail off.

               “Doing great,” she murmured. “We’re doing just fine.”

[really-sleep-deprived-nerd]

Sanders Sides The Librarians AU

The Library is a magical building that houses mythical artifacts and books. One would say they have everything, but some artifacts were lost after their creation or simply thought lost and impossible to find, and that’s without adding the fact that new magical artifacts can and sometimes are created every day.

Probably should say that “magic building” means that it exists as an infinite plane between our reality and the void and that it has a sort of “conscience”, since it’s the building itself that chooses the people that will become Librarians and Guardians.

Those who work at the Library (Librarians, Guardians, Caretakers and Custodians) become infused by the magic of the Library, and they take that into the world with them. If the connection is severed, humanity will be cut adrift from learning, curiosity, investigation, knowledge and wisdom.

Likewise, it is dependent upon the ones that work at the Library having belief in it, in order to maintain a physical presence. If that belief destroyed or otherwise broken, the Library ceases to exist.

Librarians have the job of search for and retrieve the artifacts, the job of protecting the world of the next magical apocalypse, protecting it from evil and greed taking over. They protect the library and the magic and knowledge linked to it.

Guardians protect the librarians, but not only as a sort of bodyguard, because the most important job of the guardian is protecting the librarians’ soul. They keep them sane and make sure they don’t become consumed by evil and greed.

Caretakers and custodians they are quite hard to explain, so I think I will leave it as they are immortal humans (???) that live/stay at the library. They know where the things are inside the library (Well, where most of the things are) and they do the common librarian job (Keep inventory of the things they have, accountability, etc.)

Librarians: Roman, Patton, Logan and Damián (Deceit)

Guardian: Virgil

Caretakers/Custodians: Emile, Thomas and Remy 

(The rest under the cut because this got long)

(They are in the order they started working for The Library)

Emile, Thomas and Remy

Emile and Thomas are the original librarian and original guardian.

They are as old as the library itself, but since they are connected to its magic they became immortal.

This two are probably the only “competent adults” around, if we are being honest. As I said, they keep things working.

Remy is Morpheous, the Greek god of sleep and dreams.

Remy spends most of his time outside the library but pops in from time to time to annoy the hell out of Thomas, shamelessly flirt with Emile and check in the library and how everyone is doing.

He likes to think of himself of the “guardian deity�� of the library but in reality he is more of a cute and friendly stray dog that the librarians found and they couldn’t kick out because they felt bad.

He makes a killer coffee though.

It took Remy 300 years of flirting and spending time together, but he became Emile´s boyfriend

He is not sure how he did it and is very surprised he hasn't fucked up the relationship yet, but there isn't much Remy can do to “Fuck it up”. Emile has lived a long time, he is patient and kind and hopelessly in love with the godly idiot.

Roman Palacios

He worked alone for about five years.

He had a guardian but he died while protecting him. This destroyed Roman, because the guardian wasn't just his guardian, it was his boyfriend too.

After quite some years of librarianing alone he became a brave, reckless and badass explorer!

He is the one with the most experience but that doesn’t mean he’s never more than two steps away from panic at any moment and is pretty much in a state of perpetual mild-to-severe terror.

He loves the job but he is perfectly aware of how dangerous it is, and after the others join the library he becomes a bigger mom-friend than Virgil, which is pretty damn difficult, as Virgil´s entire purpose is to keep all of them from getting themselves killed. (Virgil is grateful for the help and finds it charming that this cute dramatic nerd cares so much about his friends)

Roman in his time in the library, managed to befriend Excalibur, after learning that Cal is surprisingly smart and snarky for a magic object that cannot speak (Yes, as in “Arthur´s sword” Excalibur. The thing is very much magical and very much sentient)

Excalibur teached Roman how to sword fight.

Speaking of Excalibur, it took Roman two years to befriend the sword while it took Virgil less than a day. Roman is both offended and impressed

His first impression of Virgil was something like this:

“Why the fuck is this tiny edgy looking emo a guardian. He won't last a day”

Two days later it became:

“Strong,,,charming,,,,edgy bastard,,,Im,,,,WAY more gay than I suspected,,,”

Virgil Storm

Exercising helps him calm his anxiety, so since he was little he did a lot of things: Boxing, ballet and judo, to name a few.

So now that he is older he is a Strong Boy that has the physical ability and muscles to knock you out without breaking a sweat while still having a heart of gold under all his sass.

And that's the reason the library chose him to protect their new bunch of idiots- I mean, librarians.

The first time he met Roman, the librarian joked “And remember, you aren't allowed to fall in love with me”

“That won't be a problem” Virgil said grinning

Ah, but two days later:

“therE IS A PROBLEM”

His relationship with Roman is “Oh, he is insufferable. I love him”

The ultimate mom-friend

He is the only one here that has just a bit of common sense and he swears one of these days the librarians will give him a heart attack

Since he started working in the library he befriended a few gargoyles and the chupacabra

Patton Medina, Damián “Dee” Jones (Deceit) and Logan Stone

Patton is an art and architecture expert, author of scholarly works on history, art and architecture in his spare time. He can speak fluently speak 10 languages, 3 of which are dead ones and he is decent at at least other 5

Damián is a tech expert and world-class professional thief. There isn't a lock or puzzle he can't get past.

Logan is a maths and science expert, with a love for chemistry and physics. He is an actual genius and can mentally solve any equation you put in front of him

The three of them working together make One Good Librarian, the library knew this and that's why they all got called and hired the same day

Dee, despite being the best thief to have ever graced the earth, has a good heart.

He is just very bad at this “friends” thing. He grew up alone in not the best of places.

“But he is a thief!!”

Yes, but I never said he kept the things he stole.

He sold everything he stole and gave the money away, keeping the bare minimum to buy food and pay rent in the tiniest apartment in existence.

When he stole a very rare diamond, hospitals were built. When he stole an old painting from a museum, people went to college. (You get the idea, a modern day Robin Hood)

Damián is the only Librarian in history to have befriended nessie.

Patton´s bubbly and cheery personality made his family and old “friends” think he was just a stupid airhead, despite everything he has ever accomplished.

The first time someone (Roman) called Patton a genius he literally started crying tears of joy.

All the things he published were under fake names and identities because he was scared. He thought that if not even his family would take him seriously, then no one else would.

Logan went from “I know Im smarter than everyone else” to “I am the best in what I do but that doesn't mean there isn't people smarter than me” pretty damn quickly after he started working in The Library

So basically Roman, Logan, Deceit and Patton go in magical adventures while Virgil screams in distress in the background trying to keep everyone alive and Remy and Emile stay in the library being Cute and Dorky gays. Thomas looks like a tired dad too old for this nonsense. 

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, ROSE! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Emmeline Vance. Not only was your application entirely true to their character, but you made them your own and even threw in a few surprises for me. Emmeline being there when their mother was taken is a great addition, and I think explains a bit about who they are now. I also loved how you explored their empathy, which as you said, may not be a trait others would use to describe them, but nevertheless is completely present in who they are.

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: rose

age: 21

preferred pronouns: she/her and they/them are both good!

timezone: est

activity: I’m currently only working part time over the summer so I’ll be around pretty often- I’ll definitely be around to lurk on the dash/chat at some point every day, and will do replies as soon as I can, likely within 1-2 days depending on how many threads I have going etc

how do you feel about your character dying?: ouch. But, in all seriousness, death is a grim reality of war, and Emmeline is certainly prepared to die if it means taking some death eaters down with them. Also I’m always down for some angst

anything else?: nope nope, just a congratulations on running what looks like a really lovely rp and a thanks for reading this :)

character details.

full name: Emmeline Vance

date of birth: 25th August, 1956

former hogwarts house: Slytherin

sexuality: pansexual, but with a slight preference for women

gender/pronouns: Non-binary, they/them. Emmeline’s relationship with gender is a long and complicated one. They are their parent’s first and only child, and considering the pressure of their high social status to continue the family line and name, Em being, in the eyes of their parents, a baby girl, tempered the joy of their child’s arrival. They reassured themselves that there were other Vances out there, and little Emmeline would in time be married off and at the very least perpetuate their good, pure, blood. The lingering sense that they had somehow failed their parents straight out of the womb complicated Em’s relationship with gender from a young age, but when they eventually began openly identifying as non-binary it was a decision made solely and decisively for themself.

Em never really felt particularly like a girl, but they also weren’t sure what else they could be, sheltered as they were as a child- not from horror and darkness but from anything challenging the status quo. They didn’t discover that they could be something other than a girl or a boy until part way through Hogwarts, and didn’t start introducing themself with a mention of their pronouns until the day that they packed the best of nineteen years into a single suitcase and marched into the Ministry of Magic and got themself a job. In a way they were seeking control through the change, asserting a part of themself that their father had never known and therefore leaving him in the past.

face claim change: I’m very happy with Jessica Henwick!

more.

i. personality

Paranoid: Em has been looking over their shoulder since their mother was kidnapped when they were a child, and has been looking over their shoulder in their own home since it sunk in that their father might value some things over them and their safety. Em has been weaving a net of protective charms around wherever they happen to be sleeping since they were seventeen, and the shield has only grown in complexity over time. When they followed the Order to Godric’s Hollow, Em sought out a small and defensible cottage with no immediate neighbors. Flanked by crumbling and abandoned houses, Em feels safer alone, especially at night. Emmeline’s paranoia is rooted in trauma, and in many ways is practical- they live in a world at war, after all, and there are plenty of people out there who would like to kill them, but it is also a definite weakness of theirs. It drives them to seclude themself, which doesn’t do much to inspire confidence in the rest of the Order, and has meant that they’ve never really managed to have a notable romantic relationship with another person. The idea of trusting someone else enough to let them behind their very literal shields seems incomprehensible, and yet Em sometimes finds themself almost longing for companionship. But they’ve been lonely for a very, very long time. It’s just the way life is.

Obsessive: Whether it’s their current project in dismantling a particularly nasty curse or their quest for vengeance, Emmeline throws themself into their work with everything they have. It’s what made them the best cursebreaker in the Ministry, what brought the Order before them, what keeps them sane. Em never stops. They have scrolls of parchment  with lists of every object they can remember their father ever cursing, with every bit of information they can remember about the curse scrawled below in small, tight letters. The list is crowned by their father’s most beautifully monstrous curse, and Em will not rest until they eradicate them all. As it stands, too few have a line through them. When they read, they read something useful, something that might connect two dots somewhere, and everything else they do is earnestly purposeful. Idleness is dangerous. Of course, their obsessiveness also means that they have trouble letting anything go, pursuing problems with a dogged tenacity even if the argument is over and done with, or the curse is already broken.

Intelligent: It was their brain that allowed Emmeline to carve out a place for themself in relative safety eventually, their intellect and ability which allowed them to escape from the world of the death eaters. They are a phenomenal cursebreaker, and have accumulated a vast understanding of magical theory and runes as a result. Em is a well of knowledge, all of which they’ve offered unselfishly to the Order. They much prefer when their help draws from their knowledge as opposed to their memories, but they’ll recount either if it might further the cause. Their intelligence spans beyond just the academic, however. Em is witty, with a quick sort of gallows humor that comes accompanied by a quiet smile.

Empathetic: Hardly anyone would list empathy as one of Emmeline Vance’s obvious character traits. They were quiet, and clever, oddly reserved, a little bit blunt, bitter. They were fierce and bold and decisive, ready to defend their ideas with rapid fire arguments and explanations, delivered in a tone that practically dared to be disagreed with. No one would think to call Emmeline Vance empathetic because there was danger in showing anyone anything soft, and if Em knew anything it was how to protect themself. And yet, Em had never quite had the hardness it seemed everyone else in their pureblood circles possessed, that willingness to let atrocities happen, or participate in them personally, just to advance their power. Em listened at the door as Voldemort talked to their father, and all they could think of was the people behind the hissed mudbloods and muggles, the blood behind the sneer in squibs. Their doubt in Voldemort’s cause grew from empathy, and that remained the core of their resistance even after the empathy was joined by pain and a burning drive for vengeance. Emmeline is a deeply empathetic person, but that’s not anything anyone else needs to know.

ii. the story so far

Emmeline was seven when their mother was kidnapped. Just young enough that no one had told them anything, just old enough that they remembered everything. It was common knowledge by the time they went to Hogwarts, already steely-eyed at eleven, that Emmeline Vance’s mother had been gruesomely murdered because their father hadn’t paid her ransom, but very few knew that Em had been there when it happened. They’d been out walking in a park, quiet and secluded, and Em had chased a group of pixies that had flown off with their stuffed hippogriff. They reemerged from a shrub, disheveled but victorious, just in time to see the curse hit their mother’s back and the men whisk her away with the sickening pop of side-along apparition. And that was the last time they saw their mother.

When the people started to come, knocking on the door and fawning over Em with pitying politeness before pulling out a wicked looking knife, or a jewel encrusted bracelet, Emmeline had dutifully let them in, and smiled at their compliments, and watched with rapt attention as their father twisted the objects’ essences into something dark and malignant and clever. They never saw the repercussions of their father’s creations, only the mastery and intellect that went into the birth of the things, benign on the worktable. As much as Em hates to think of their father still out there somewhere drawing breath, they never learned so much in so short a time as in those years before Hogwarts. And they never expected, then, that they were learning exactly how to pluck apart the intricate tangle of those same curses while watching their father braid them into being.

And then they’d gone to Hogwarts, and their destiny was drawn out before them in permanent ink, clear as anything. They were sorted into Slytherin, and they were clever and good at their classes, and they accidentally killed a plant in herbology but shone in ancient runes. And behind all the routine of Hogwarts, were everything was meant to be tinted by optimism and hope, truths Emmeline knew intimately waited, oozing a darkness so black it was almost red.

They were dragged out of their bed at seventeen, woken by hands and heavy breathing and Emmeline had struggled and screamed, thrashing uselessly as the lingering effects of deep sleep battled with a fierce rush of adrenaline. Em still dreams of that night, sometimes, waking up nauseated by terror. Mercifully, their dreams rarely make it all the way to their father’s desk. It’s worse when the night conjures up the way their father had looked down with hollow eyes before dripping fire down their arm.

Hogwarts had lost it’s luster after that summer. Emmeline had spent the remaining month at their father’s home sleepless and harried by seemingly random experiments on the mark that stood starkly on their forearm, twisting something in their heart whenever they caught a glimpse of it. They had taken it quietly, spending hours being poked and prodded, or consumed by pain when Voldemort deigned to check in on his prototype and pressed his finger into the pictorial curse. There had been no other choice. They were barely of age, they had nowhere to go.  

Those, it turned out, were some of Emmeline’s darkest days, and nothing was more demoralizing than realizing that there was no safe place for them to run. Nearly everyone they knew was, if not explicitly aligned with Voldemort, then something of an implicit supporter, and anyone else they could plead for help from (with low chances of success, marked as they were) would gain a target on their backs too. Their only escape would be by their own hands, and their only respite could be through their own power. The Ministry, when Em eventually found themself there armed with a suitcase, their wand, and a life full of curses, was a means to an end.

Freedom was perhaps too strong a word, but Voldemort never came knocking, and their father didn’t send any owls. Em waited for them anyway, and threw themself into their work with everything they had, finding a sort of catharsis in breaking curses while somewhere out there their father was making them. The pay allowed them to scrape by, and Em wasn’t happy, but then again they didn’t think that happy was something they could be, anymore.

By the time Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody asked for their first favor, Em had carved out a space for themself in the Ministry’s curse breaking department, but the running was taking it’s toll. The knowing was eating at them. They were gone, had slipped out from under Voldemort’s thumb, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some other unlucky kid wrapped up in things too big for them. Em had escaped, but there were still terrible men out there capable of doing terrible things, damn the consequences. Emmeline was no hero, but fuck men who thought that the world was theirs to ruin, everyone else just game pieces, experiments, and target practice. When Shacklebolt and Moody’s favors grew into an invitation into something bigger, Em had felt some open wound within them close, two puzzle pieces locking together. The Order might need Em’s skills, but Em needs the Order just as much.

Was it any wonder, then, that they threw themself into their work for the Order with a sort of abandon that would be called reckless were they not so analytical? Em was among the first in the Order’s ranks, but four years on, they’re still haunted by their past. Darkness clings, lurking while they dismantle a curse by thinking of how their father would build it, bubbling up when they let a curse fly and feel sickeningly pleased by the way the robed bodies hit the floor.

iii. present day

Slotting the detritus of their life into place in the smallest cottage left standing in the bit of Godric’s Hollow the Order had carved out as their new home had taken a pitiful ten minutes. Em had resolutely focused on the efficiency created by the limiting of their belongings rather than the faint hint of regret that they had so little to show for their twenty-six hard fought years. Living out of a suitcase had served them well in that earth-shattering year (though they’d all been earth-shattering to varying degrees for too long now), what felt like decades ago, and it would, they had told themself, serve them well now. They didn’t need the luxuries that had been left behind in the scrambling chaos of the aftermath of 1981. There had been books they’d accumulated once they’d stopped hopping from flat to shitty flat every month like clockwork, criss-crossing the area in and around London, covering their tracks as if they couldn’t be cornered and offed somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry any time they went into work. Books, and records, and stupid nick-nacks. Gone now, abandoned as they downsized back to one suitcase almost on reflex. They’d fled once, now they were just retracing their steps.

Em can’t fault the Order for running. It would be hypocritical, if nothing else, but also with their ranks depleted and those who remain rocked by shock and grief, to do anything but hide for the time being could very well end in yet another blood bath. But at the same time, Em itches to be back on the front lines, capitalizing on the fact that Voldemort’s side suffered losses too. Sitting on their hands is all well and good, but Em isn’t convinced they’ll be able to lick their wounds for much longer.

Chittock’s broadcast would’ve left them with a smug smile, a silent told you so, if it weren’t for the fact that Em was well aware there were plenty who would hear the warning that not everyone was to be trusted and look at them, a pureblood and a Slytherin with a mark on their arm, damning them to darkness. The war is inescapable, as far as Em is concerned. At least it is for them. They’ll keep fighting until they die or there’s no more fighting to be done.

[idlebrained]

𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐢 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬… 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

that racket you heard ? nymphadora tonks blowing into town like a hurricane.. then proceeding to, i don’t know, fall down an entire flight of steps. that’s our girl. when she became a resident on the island, the new presence was difficult to ignore. if not because she’s a loud mouthed, cheeky little shit—then maybe because she’s always stomping around in her boots or sporting bubblegum pink hair. or maybe it’s because sometimes her body shape shifts without warning or explanation. it could be anybody’s guess.

when tonks first arrived, the only thing she knew about herself was that she was a witch. and that’s only because she had her wand on her person and like any sane ‘muggle’ would do, she played with it, not thinking anything of it. but once she nearly burned down her apartment, it was kind of hard not to take it seriously. during this time, tonks had gotten a muggle job as a forensic scientist. when her memories of hogwarts returned about a year later, she returned to her canon gig—auror. she didn’t know that she had been one once before, she just thought the job came easy to her. but she’d grown fond of her original job, so now she balances them both.

candid  &  naturally skilled  ━━  tonks doesn’t beat around the bush. in fact, she doesn’t even see the bush, because she’s plowed straight through it. the girl is fierce with a capital f ( which also stands for FUCK, by the way ). she doesn’t like to play games or dance around the truth and finds it easier to face things head on, if for no other reason than to get it over with. she’s passionate about who and what she cares about, and doesn’t give half a damn who knows it. it’s probably how new things come easy to her ; she’s got a clear mind, not one that’s clogged with secrets, repressed emotions, or other nonsense. and that mind is obstinate, as her will is iron clad. even when she was depressed as all hell over moon moon’s broody ass, she was able to produce a non verbal patronus charm. that’s one stubborn woman.

mischievous  &  clumsy  ━━  though being candid isn’t all fun and rainbows. not only does this mean that if tonks doesn’t like something, the entire bloody world will know about it—it also means any question or thought she has will pop into her head and she won’t hesitate to say it. or if it’s an idea, execute it ( which has lead to some interesting situations, to say the least. there’s a mandrake incident she really would prefer no one ever bring up again ). tonks has always been something of a jester ; everything and anything has the power to be a joke or sarcastically commented on. and that ‘ natural skill ’ she has goes right out the window as soon as anything she’s doing requires grace. the girl can, will, and frequently does trip over thin air. it’s best not to let her go anywhere near a stove or a particularly pointy objects, merlin only knows the kind of damage she’ll cause. think of the children.

tonks remembers joining the order of the phoenix, and a few of her earlier missions.

[noditchablepromdate]

A consideration of the muse via TV Tropes

//Mun comments: these are based on my interpretation of and headcanons for the muse, not just canon events.

Appearance/Physical

American Accents - though Bobby himself is from South Dakota, his accent definitely hints towards a more typically southern redneck. Badass Beard - one of his most distinctive features.  Blue Eyes - sometimes Icy Blue Eyes. Generally when he’s getting particularly enraged. Nice Hat - Bobby is almost never seen without one of his beloved trucker caps.  Older Than They Look - Bobby is in his late fifties when the Winchester boys show up asking for help, and by the Apocalypse he’s sixty. He’s grizzled and clearly not in his prime any more, but is still younger-looking, tougher and much more physically capable than a guy his age would usually be. Seriously Scruffy - Bobby’s usual outfit is heavily worn and frayed clothes - usually jeans, t-shirts and flannel - that he’s owned for a very long time.

Personality Traits

A Friend In Need / The Reliable One - One of Bobby’s defining traits is that no matter what, if someone calls on him for help, he will do whatever it takes to give that help. Even if he’s freaking DEAD. Badass Grandpa - Bobby’s out there fighting evil well into his sixties. Brutal Honesty - He doesn’t really do sugar-coating very well, so if he’s presented with something and asked his opinion he will often be very blunt about what he thinks of it. Catch Phrase - His go-to swearword is “Balls!” and he often expresses his annoyance (or affection) by calling someone an “idjit”.  Character Alignment - Chaotic Good. Bobby gives absolutely zero fucks about legal or illegal, but he’s absolutely committed to helping the fight against evil and is basically a decent and kind person. Combat Pragmatist - He doesn’t fight in a bid to impress anybody, he just aims to take his opponent down and make them stop fighting back as fast as possible, and has no qualms about fighting dirty to get the result. Crazy-Prepared / Properly Paranoid - Bobby regularly doses visitors with holy water, keeps guns to fire several different types of monster-slaying ammunition, and has built a panic room in his basement, made of solid iron coated with salt, that is demon- and spirit-proof. He has also made several copies of all his priceless books and stashed them in safehouses around the country, just in case something happens to the collection in his house. And he does it all because he knows it could happen. He’s even described himself as a “paranoid bastard”. Deadpan Snarker - A fundamental aspect of his personality. No matter what situation, he usually manages to come up with a sarcastic or snarky quip. This can lead to Snark-To-Snark Combat breaking out, especially if it’s Crowley he’s talking to. Determinator - He just will not lie down and die. Even when a bullet to the head puts him in a coma, he spends the entire time evading and holding off the Reaper coming after him so he can warn Sam and Dean about the Leviathans’ plans. Encyclopaedic Knowledge - He’s done so much studying that he’s able to reel off facts about rare monsters, cast spells and recite exorcisms, and draw a number of sigils from memory.  Forgets To Eat / Must Have Caffeine - Bobby regularly stays up pulling all-nighters in order to do research for a fellow hunter, and in such cases will often subsist on strong coffee and/or caffeine pills. This has left him with a reliance on coffee that’s almost as bad as his drinking problem. Genius Bruiser - He looks and often acts like a typical dumb redneck, but spends most of his time at home with his books, doing research for others; when called on to join the fight directly, Bobby proves himself as capable of kicking ass as hunters half his age. Good Is Not Dumb - He might be on the side of the good guys, but Bobby sure as hell is not stupid. Good Is Not Soft / Good Is Not Nice - While he has dedicated his life to helping others and saving lives, and is gentle and caring to those in need, Bobby is also a cranky, short-tempered alcoholic who lives on his own and gives everyone, including the law, angels, and Satan himself an attitude. He’s also not likely to spare enemies out of the goodness of his heart, either - the few antagonists who manage to escape his retribution are usually the ones who talk the quickest and convince him they’re worth sparing. Otherwise he’ll finish them off without blinking. Grumpy Old Man - Has definite shades of this, though often as not he’s just playing it up, for the sake of a cover or to amuse people. Gut Feeling - Bobby’s instincts are usually spot on and he’s learned to rely on them reasonably heavily, to the point where he can usually guess within seconds if someone he knows is possessed by a demon or otherwise not actually themself. Of course, being paranoid, he’ll generally follow his guess up with a test to see how right he is. Handicapped Badass - During the year he spends wheelchair-bound; although he’s no longer able to actively hunt, his mind is as quick as ever and he’s still a crack shot. Jerk with a Heart of Gold - Famously bad-tempered, antisocial, yells at people who ask him for help and calls them stupid, regularly gets arrested and has no respect for... pretty much anyone. Also one of the key players in the attempt to head off the Apocalypse, who loves the weird little family he’s got with all his heart and will do anything for them. Knight In Sour Armor - Yeah, the world sucks and pretty much everything is horrible apart from a few little warm spots... but he’ll step up to fight for its right to exist time and time again, because that’s the right thing to do. Mr. Fixit - As well as earning his living as a mechanic and salvage yard owner, Bobby is able to turn his hand to a number of other practical skills; he’s successfully modified several guns to fire specialised ammunition, and built the panic room in his basement himself, during “a weekend off”. He’s also proven to be very capable when it comes to installing booby traps and surprises around his house, including a trapdoor outside the hall closet that drops straight into the basement and a specially strengthened basement door to keep whoever got dropped in from getting back out.  Nerves Of Steel - He’s faced down dozens, maybe hundreds, of monsters over the years, armed with a few weapons and his wits and, if he was really lucky, someone competent running backup. He’s even intervened in a showdown between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, though that didn’t go terribly well for him. Not much fazes him now. Old Master - Bobby has likely fought, researched and warded off more monsters than Sam and Dean put together, and is known to be THE person to go to if you need help tackling something you don’t recognise. Omniglot - He speaks several languages, including Japanese and Latin, and is able to decipher and translate a huge number of written languages. Only Sane Man - He often feels like this, especially after dealing with hunters who have managed to completely fail at displaying common sense. Physical Scars, Psychological Scars - Bobby has picked up scars from all sorts of monster encounters over the years, many of them reminders of what went wrong on the hunt. He also still has some old scars from his childhood, as his father used to beat him with a belt. Self-Surgery - Given he prefers to avoid the authorities unless it’s really serious, Bobby will generally patch himself up with needle, thread and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Street Smart - Studious as he can be, Bobby is also a capable survivalist and very savvy at bluffing his way into situations - or out of them. Taught By Experience / Seen It All - Bobby’s one of the best in the hunting community simply because he’s made it his business to be. He’s encountered monsters very few others have, he’s studied countless texts to find weaknesses nobody else knew about... and he’s closely linked to the Winchesters, who seem to get targeted by all the weirdest things out there. Which he takes as a learning opportunity. It’s not often he actually gets startled by something. Talented But Trained - He’s a very smart man, that’s absolutely certain, but many of his skills are what he’s picked up over a long, rough life, and he’s honed them till they’re sharp as a razor. The Alcoholic / Drowning My Sorrows - He’s turned to alcohol to cope with the horrific things he’s dealt with, from an abusive childhood to killing his possessed wife to the deaths caused because he wasn’t quite quick enough to take down the monster he was hunting. The Kirk - Usually plays this role between cool, logical Sam and hot-headed emotional Dean. Undying Loyalty - Literally, in his case; he takes lethal injuries several times, at least one of which was deliberately self-inflicted, and still keeps trying to help his boys in any way he can. Workaholic - He doesn’t often take a break from working, at least not for very long. Wouldn’t Hurt A Child / Friend To All Children - One of his more likeable traits - after the horrendous upbringing he had, Bobby will go above and beyond to make sure any kids he spends time around feel as safe as possible. He’s gentle, affectionate, and respectful of their thoughts and feelings, especially if their own parents are harsh.

Personal History

Abusive Parents / Alcoholic Parent - Bobby’s father Ed was a drunk who thought nothing of being verbally and physically abusive, punching his wife and regularly taking his belt to his son. By the time Bobby hit his teens, his mother was also blaming him for his dad’s violence. Back From The Dead - Bobby was killed by Lucifer while trying to help buy time for Sam to regain control of his own body. Castiel, newly resurrected himself, brought him back minutes later after the crisis was over. Bobby will occasionally refer to it as “that time I died” or something along those lines. Calling The Old Man Out - He finally snaps and intervenes with a rifle when his father begins beating his mother, demanding Ed leave her alone. When Ed taunts him and threatens to deal with him, Bobby pulls the trigger. Later in life, trapped in a coma, Bobby sees his father again in the memory and confronts him, fiercely claiming to be far better than Ed told him he was. Dead Partner - This applies to a number of Bobby’s old hunting friends who have died over the years, most notably John Winchester, Ellen Harvelle and Rufus Turner, all of whom he had a particular bond with. Deal With The Devil - Technicaly a deal with a demon, but the same principle. When Lucifer is on the verge of triumphing in the bid to start the Apocalypse, Bobby sells - or, technically, pawns - his soul to Crowley for the final key piece of information that gives them a fighting chance. He also regains the ability to walk, though that was more of a generous freebie on Crowley’s part. (Naturally, Crowley does not keep his side of the agreement, and later has to be threatened about it.) Fighting From The Inside - When possessed by a demon trying to kill Dean, Bobby manages to put up enough of a fight to turn the blade on himself. Hero Secret Service - Technically the hunting community could count as this. Although they are not organised and have no authority figures, Bobby is a major persona within the ranks. Only Child Syndrome - With no siblings around, Bobby took the full brunt of his parents’ abuse; he never really understood why, but his mother once hinted that he was too much hard work on his own for them to handle having another kid on top. Survivor Guilt - Regarding pretty much everyone he knows who gets killed. His attitude is always I should have done better.

Romance & Family

Badass Family - Adoptive version; anyone who spends a while around Bobby will absorb some of his personal badassness, even if they are already damn awesome themselves. First Love - Karen, the first woman he ever really loved, and whom he holds a torch for long after her death. Happily Married - With Karen. Until she finds out he doesn’t want to be a father... at which point they have a fight that never gets resolved, because she’s dead three days later. Honorary Uncle - To Sam and Dean as kids, and to most other hunters’ kids he spends any real time around, he was always “Uncle Bobby”. Ho Yay / Foe Yay - He and Crowley clash repeatedly, but all that snark-laden verbal fencing, long looks, moments of real vulnerability around each other... yeah, there’s definitely something going on there. Incompatible Orientation - One of Bobby’s main attempted defences against the attentions of a certain king of Hell. Like A Son To Me / Happily Adopted - Sam and Dean, who he played a large part in raising until their teens. Also counts for any of the other younger people he takes in and becomes a father figure to. Papa Wolf - Don’t mess with his kids. Just don’t. He will hurt you. Parental Substitute - To many of the young people he takes in or keeps an eye out for, particularly those who have had poor experiences with their childhood. He absolutely relishes being able to be a positive figure for a kid who needs it. Stalker With A Crush - This is how he tends to treat Crowley a lot of the time, especially when the demon’s being particularly flirtatious or overly attentive. Team Dad - To... well, pretty much everyone with the age or life experience to be considered a kid in his eyes. This includes the Winchesters, Jo Harvelle, several other hunters around their age, a freaking Vampire Slayer, and Castiel, an actual angel with the social savvy of a very sheltered gerbil.

[strykingback]

Changes in Personality for Team BLCK In V7

Starting with Blade, after witnessing his father was alive and well along with his teammates going to Atlas alongside RWBY, ORNJ, and Qrow. He now realizes that he needed to change himself up a bit. Personality wise he’s still Blade except a few things have now happened. 

1. He is less offended if anyone makes fun of his hair now that is old man is alive and well and how Jack tells him to be his own person. 

2. He is more of the Happy-Go Lucky guy who still takes things seriously, but no matter how hurt he is he will fight to the very end as a Huntsman. 

Yet though, somewhere deep inside the Stryker he is 

(Faceclaim for V7: Kyoujurou  Rengoku from Demon Slayer)

After Louvel’s final fight with Adam to which Yang joined in at a crucial time. The wolf faunus had slain Adam with the Corrupt High Leaders wakizashi to which Louvel comforted Adam throughout his death as the bull faunus realized how strong Louvel really was. To which Adam told Louvel that he wanted to die because he too felt the same weight on his shoulders and thanks him for freeing him from his shackles as he peacefully passed away. To which the Shinba gave the Bull faunus a proper burial.  Louvel realized what had really happened in himself.. his refusal to kill came from his sadness of killing people with families and or friends to which he built up  a barrier where he though where he was at peace and harmony. Instead he created a bubble around himself blocking out the reality that he had to see many times over and over again.  In memory of Adam and the Responsible and Moral leader he could have been  before the Darkness in his heart claimed the Light within him. Louvel wields a katana to which the wolf faunus can sheathe to switch the dust he is using.

(Oh and if you have a problem with this *points to the door*. Please leave, my canon says that Adam was once a moral person with limitations before he enjoyed killing people like a sociopath. Not to mention he was responsible before Miles and Kerry retconned him.) 

1. Louvel has the strength to now kill a person EXCEPT he will kill a human or faunus if the order states that he must kill. 

2. He finally makes peace with his past thus achieving a balance in his heart and himself as a whole. 

3. He also has begun to vent towards others about certain situations and how he feels despite just using his grandfathers quotes This time he makes up his own and faces the truth about it. 

(Faceclaim: Genji Shimada (  Overwatch Strike Team  Not Black watch btw) 

Corona on the other hand told her team that if she was going to be Mistral, she’d rather do it with a bang. At first this worried Blade, Hermes, Kazura, and Louvel because of the way she said it. Her plan was to free her family from being indebted to Lil’ Miss Malachite as she fought her way through the war torn streets of Lower Mistral alongside her teammates and when reaching her she fought the gang leader and made sure she remembered not to fuck with The Dark Eagle of Mistral. To which her now-out of prison parents saw and witnessed how strong she had become and only for both of them to end up sobbing after Corona forced Miss Malachite to free her and her parents from being indebted to her. To which she did. At first, Corona’s parents wanted her back at the farm until her father noticed how she had a second family who needs her more than he and his wife needed Corona  to which she became a free bird from her cage of fear and paranoia. However for her poor Cross Bow Talon it did not fare well in the next battle with the Sabyrs as it broke due to the damage sustained from the battle with Miss Malachite. However, Corona now wields a Sniper rifle that transforms into a machine gun (Like one of the guns from Apex Legends I think) to which she names it Light Talon. 

1. Corona is now more open to talking with friends and family now instead of being so closed off and quiet and only opening up to her Signifcant others. 

2. She is more talkative than ever, this time she’ll open up abut what she likes and does not like. 

3.  Her true personality shows out as a friendly and yet approachable person, however to really date her one must gain her trust first as she still is struggling with the feeling of not being in debt anymore to Lil’ Miss Malachite. 

For Kazura entering Atlas meant he has to take things more seriously especially as Prince of Brumel. This means gone is the “Charge In” style as he wishes to uphold a good character despite what others say about him.  Yet, the knight does retain his silly and goofy attitude and the amazing monologues he puts up with. However, when with High ranking officials such as the Atlesian Council, General Ironwood, etc. He really puts on those political gauntlets and SWINGS HARD. Because his father left the Council after one too many stupid-ass decisions from the Atlesians and its up to his son to pick it up and be there in his stead. Yet he also wishes to end the rift between Atlas, Brumel, and Mantle making sure that all three kingdoms should be helping one another not isolating themselves in hatred and anger. Especially now with the Artorians making their move on Atlas attacking Mantle without any remorse whatsoever and now he must bring all three kingdoms underneath one banner to deal with such a thing now. 

1. Kazura is more determined and starts to take more political actions seriously. 

2. He will not act the same way during Volume 1-6 with his many monologues and crazy need for battle and glory. He will fight yes, but he will take the battles more seriously. 

3. Out of Battle however, he seemingly is more chilled back and relaxed ready to talk and lecture and monologue about his tales of glory. Yet he will be a bit animated though. 

During Volume 4, 5, and 6 Hermes took the time to reflect on himself and look at the progress he had made regain his sanity, in Volume 5 he made a great stride speaking with more and more people instead of spouting out that he was the true “God” to which he had fought with more people than by himself. However even after the Battle of Haven he still took the time to reflect and learn to which he gained back bits and pieces of his sanity. Until Volume 6 thanks to the calming auras of the Ruins of Light his sanity was finally regained after 15 years of a struggle to regain it all back after the Atlesians experimented on him.  Yet, that does not mean his Insane side can come out though (Kinda going for a more Mr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde kind of feel yeah?) . Yet Hermes had a soul searching talk with his insane side and the both sides came to an agreement that if in situations where lives were in serious danger both sane and insane sides of Hermes would merge to be one in the same body to defeat the enemy. Yet when reaching Atlas, the Atlesians removed the Semblance Limiter from his neck  thus setting him free from a 15 year old curse on his neck, thus meaning he can finally be at full power with his magic again. 

1. Sane!Hermes is intellectual preferring to see situations through, and to listen and study certain objects since he is in a new world where technology exists. This side of him was also prevalent in Volumes 4-6 however this was only when he wanted to be! 

2. Sane!Hermes  usually prefers to be in quiet places like a cafe  since his hearing is quite sensitive even after so many years of being alone and immortal its just hard for the poor guy to catch a break!! 

3. Sane!Hermes uses his intellect on Dark Magic to possibly seek out a different ways to possibly merge dark magic with light magic to create a balanced source  of energy thus making dust obsolete. 

4. Insane!Hermes... is just still what Volumes 4-6 was , crazy and spouting complete nonsense. 

[ruffsficstuffplace]

The Keeper of the Grove (Part 36)

Avalon.

A realm of some of the most powerful wellsprings to be found anywhere in the Aether.

A realm of life and wonders rarely seen elsewhere.

A realm of boundless potential, where your wildest dreams and fantasies have the best damn chance of becoming reality.

You could say that it was pretty much inevitable that you'd have people trying to fuck it up, locals and foreigners alike, which is why all of them tend to have some sort of agreement and organization trying to keep things in check, make sure that no one person or group can grab all that power, and do whatever the hell they'd like with it.

The Humans over at the West and North ends have the Triumvirate Treaty, the Acropolis Accord, and the Armed Forces of Avalon. The Eldan Fae have the Three Truths, and the Orders of the Watchers and the Seekers. The rest over in Celestion and some parts of Sekhmet have their own ways of making sure their streets are nice and orderly, ensure that there's no one actively trying to make it so that there's not a (mostly) free, safe, and sane Avalon tomorrow.

But sometimes, something or someone grows so powerful, so cunning, and so insidious that even if these three get over their differences and in-fighting to join forces, they won't stand a hope in hell of winning.

Sometimes, you need a new force altogether, a band of misfits and outcasts so different they couldn't give a shit about what the other guys are so long as they can help, who are the right mix of bravery and stupidity to charge headlong into danger, and never realize or just not give a fuck about how bad the odds really are.

In those times you need…

The Rune Rangers.

“Wow,” Weiss said, “you have your Uncle Qrow narrating everything?”

“We used to!” Ruby replied, “but now we just have a golem of him doing it, in case he can't be around. I can't sound as cool as him.”

“It's fucking ADORABLE when you do, though!” Yang said.

“Do we really have to him?” Weiss asked.

Hey! I'll have you know that no story of adventure, action, and world-threatening danger isn't complete without a handsome, well-spoken narrator with a sexy, sexy voice.

“I like him!” Ruby said.

“Punching magical bad guys to death isn't the same without Golem Qrow telling me how awesome I was, yeah,” Yang hummed.

<I've learned to ignore him,> Blake said, subtitles of what she said in Nivian popping up before Weiss' face.

“And I think it pays great homage to the inherently ridiculous and over-the-top nature of Rune Rangers!” Penny chirped.

4-1, princess—looks like you lose by majority vote.

Weiss sighed. “Fine. When do we stop being disembodied voices talking over a montage of stock footage?”

Right about… now.

Rune Terra, Somewhere in the Viridian Valley

Our brave heroes hoof it through the grossly incandescent halls of Rune Rangers' HQ, giving their newest member the grand tour.

Weiss and Blake groaned.

Get used to it; Yang's way worse.

“That I am~!”

Ruby was pointing out the various facilities as they passed them by. “… And that's the Training Room, where we can make pretty much prepare for any sort of situation, and also relive awesome battles again; next door is the Theater, where we can just watch them all over again, and sometimes review footage from our helmets' chronicles in case we missed something; and finally we have the Core, where we meet with our Guardian and get told about whatever's going down now!”

FYI, the “Guardian” is whoever gives the Rangers their powers, and makes sure they don't accidentally blow up the realm with them.

“Thanks Golem Qrow!”

It's what I'm here for, Rubes.

“I think you'll really like her!” Ruby said as she put her rune to the door, those big-ass slabs of carved rock sliding open. “After all, you know her already, kinda.”

Weiss shielded her eyes as bright light poured out of the Core, blinding her. A deep, echoing voice rang out from within, the sound of a woman who's replaced her lungs with liquid chocolate—the really good kind.

“Welcome to Rune Terra, Weiss! I, Eluna, formally and heartily welcome you to the Viridian Vanguard.”

The 24/7 light show that is Eluna's hair turns down a few notches, enough for Weiss to actually see her as they enter the chamber.

She stops, stares at her new boss with a dumbfounded look.

Maybe it's the fact that who she thought was just a myth is actually real, and she's not a literal white wolf, but a wolf Fae that also happens to be wearing the fur of a giant Lunar Wolf. (There's a not terrible, awful story behind all that, don't worry!) Maybe it's the aura of radiance, of authority, of power she's giving out, the kind of presence that only comes when you've been training constantly and growing stronger for the past couple of millennia. Or maybe it's the fact that she's about 7 feet tall and 300 or so pounds of pure muscle, flawless skin like caramel, and all her body-fat seems to be concentrated in that kickass rack of hers.

“Golem Qrow!” Ruby yelled.

What? It's true, isn't it?

“Fret not, I'm quite aware that seeing me in person can be a very overwhelming experience,” Eluna said, smiling. Her face turned deadly serious. “But I suggest you recover soon, for we've got a situation on our hands.”

Penny offered Weiss a drool rag to clean herself up with. She can't do anything about your face being on fire, though, sorry.

“Relax, princess,” Yang said, “everyone's got the hots for Eluna! Even asexual golems like Penny.”

“I do indeed,” Penny said. “She's such a fascinating Fae specimen!”

“Why does she look exactly like Guadalupe Garron...?” Weiss asked.

“Because I am her,” Eluna said. “Or more precisely, it's one of my many assumed identities over the centuries.”

Turns out there's something in you humans' brains that makes it infinitely easier to just accept that someone's wearing fake ears and a tail, than them being an animal person, let alone immortal and the actual Eluna.

“Indeed!” Eluna said. “I used to make my disguises much more complex, before I decided to walk into into the Nexus on the Eve of the Ether on a lark, and everyone wanted to know who made my 'costume,' how much it cost, and if they made designs of different animals. And don't get me started on when I lost a look-a-like competition at a convention...

“Talk of my adventures in immortality will have to wait, however, for we've got a much more urgent, dark business to attend to:

“Dr. Nefarious is back.”

A holo popped out of the crystal, the face of your stereotypical mad scientist: nose that puts bird beaks to shame, one eye larger than the other, completely bald, and with a face that looks like he's lived through a couple of strokes.

“Hello again, Rune Rangers!” he said with his awful, terrible voice—seriously, that sound should be illegal.

Weiss groaned. “Stop, stop, stop!”

The whole world around them froze, faded and washed out.

“Something the matter, Weiss?” Ruby asked.

“Are you serious with this villain?”

“Well, uh, yeah! Dr. Nefarious is kind of what we've been using all this time...”

“He looks and sounds like something a 3-year old would make as the Evil Villain of their story!”

“Ruby was actually 2 at the time,” Penny said. “Fae generally mature faster than humans in a lot of ways.”

Yang stepped up to her, looking a little pissed. “You have a better big bad in mind, princess?”

“Yes I do, actually!” Weiss said as she held out her hand. “Temporary admin privileges, please!”

Yang rolled her eyes, and gave it to her.

The world unfroze, colour seeped back in like me at last call for Happy Hour.

“… Or, at least, he was, until the man funding all of his crazy experiments finally decided to show himself,” Eluna said.

“That's quite enough, Dr. Nefarious,” Jacques Schnee said as the camera drone turned to him. “The… Rune Rangers, were you? I've recently gotten word that you've kidnapped my daughter, as you believed the foiling of my expedition was not enough.”

Freeze.

“Wait, wait, WAIT—you're making your own dad the Big Bad?” Yang asked.

Weiss turned to her. “Yes, do you have a problem with that?”

“Only if I can't punch him in the face!” Yang said, grinning.

“You can, but I get first strike.”

“How about we punch him together?”

“Deal.”

“Sweet. I'm starting to really like you, princess!”

<… Me too…> Blake said.

Unfreeze.

“We sent those men and women back to Candela unharmed, Jacques!” Ruby snapped. “Well, mostly unharmed, and it's not like you can't just give them cool robot limbs!”

Jacques scowled. “Those are still billions in equipment, contracts, and medical expenses I'm never recouping! Make no mistake, Rune Rangers: I will not let anything stop me from claiming that Valley and all its riches for the Company and Avalon!

“Not even you, Weiss.”

Weiss winced.

Too real, too soon?

She nodded.

Sorry. Rewind!

“… I will not let anything stop me from claiming the Valley and all its riches for the Company and Avalon! And though I sincerely hope you will come to your senses before it reaches that point, I will do my best to get you away from these terrorists, and back where you belong:

“Here, in Candela, safely in your room, and under the watchful eye and guidance of your father, like every child should be.”

Weiss scowled. “I'm never going back to you!”

Words in Nivian with an Actaeon translation popped up in front of Blake's face. She spent a few moments reading them, before she said, “Yeah! You... better close up shop while you're still in the black, Zhock, because we're fur… far… forecasting big lossesses in your next quarter report!”

Freeze.

Blake sighed, her ears drooping. <I was terrible, wasn't I…?>

“Terrible is right!” Weiss cried. “Those puns were awful!”

“Hey!” Yang yelled. “I worked hard on those! Legitimately!”

Blake blinked. <You mean I didn't totally butcher what I just said...?>

“You kinda really did,” Ruby said.

<Oh.>

Weiss put her hand on her shoulder. “Look, how about the next time I'm learning Actaeon with Penny, you help me, and in exchange, we help you with your Nivian?”

Blake smiled. <Sure.>

“Great! And to start you off, you can try saying this instead...”

Unfreeze.

Weiss scowled. “I'm never going to back you!”

“She's not your propereey, you monster!” Blake cried. Her eyes darted to Weiss.

“Close enough,” she mouthed.

“True, but she is still my daughter, and until the day she turns 18, the Acropolis Accord states that is my legal and moral responsibility to keep her away from corrupting influences like you.”

Yang snorted. “Hah! Like you're the poster-boy of Good Behaviour...”

Jacques scowled. “I tire of this. My second expedition into the Valley is just about to arrive—I suggest you surrender my daughter, and step aside before they have to mow you down, too.”

The holo disappeared as alarms began to flash.

Eluna frowned as she pulled up a map of the Valley. “I'd suggest you all hurry, this group looks MUCH better armed than the first.”

“We'll take care of it, Ellie!” Ruby cried. “We're the Rune Rangers, we've got this!”

Eluna smiled. “I know you do.” She walked over to Weiss, a frown on that pretty face of hers. “Weiss, I am so sorry your first mission pits you against your own blood...”

“Don't be; I've always wanted to stick it to my father in a way he can't ignore.”

“Then do not let your rage cloud your judgment,” Eluna snapped. “It'd be DANGEROUSLY ironic if our Sapphire Ranger, the embodiment of Wisdom, does something incredibly stupid in the heat of the moment.”

She pressed a sapphire gem into her hand, funky symbols carved into its face.

“This Rune is but a key to the power that lies within you, Weiss—within all of you. Guard it well, for it has been far too long since it has had an owner.”

“Wait, what?” Yang said. “What happened to Lifi?”

Eluna's face contorted in confusion. “Who is this 'Lifi' you speak of?”

Yang slowly turned her eyes over to Ruby, who was totally, absolutely acting completely natural standing there stock still, beads of sweat slowly dripping down her face.

“Who is Lifi?” Weiss asked, looking at her, too.

“'Lifira' was what we named the golem we used in place of a fifth member, should Ren or Nora not be available,” Penny explained.

“Yeah, and we totally don't need to use her anymore since we've got Weiss now!” Ruby yelled. “How about we all teleport out of here, guys?” her rune appeared in her hand. “That new expedition could be trying to find some parking spots in shade like right now!”

Yang grabbed her wrist and stopped her she could raise her arm all the way into the sky. <Oh, Ruby... my dear, darling little sister Ruby, you are not getting out of this that easily~!>

<CAN WE PLEASE NOT?!>

<Nope!> Yang chirped. She turned to Weiss. “Weiss, get ready to meet your predecessor, the former Sapphire Ranger who is also totally not Ruby's golem girlfriend:

“Lifira!”

A flash of blue light appeared, spiraling downwards around a figure who was quickly forming back into existence…

“Hi!” a pale-skinned, white-haired, amethyst-eyed human girl about Ruby's age said. “My name's Lifira, but you can call me Lifi! Nice to meet you.”

[thelmasirby32]

Challenges of remote work during COVID-19: Talking with nomad marketer Jason Barnard

30-second summary:

With the COVID-19 virus striking, the world has been subjected to “self-quarantine”, “social distancing”, and “remote work”, there’s a high chance that remote working is here to stay for a lot of people.

Karina Tama, founder of Senior Care Clicks caught up with Jason Barnard, the Brand SERP guy and keynote speaker to talk about the challenges of remote work during COVID19 and share some tips.

It takes a lot of self-discipline (and understanding co-home sharers) to stick to your daily work plan.

Get dressed for meetings and webinars – getting dressed up changes my state of mind and encourages me to take things seriously.

Take a 10-minute break every two hours.

Dive in for tips, tricks, and advice on video call meetings, and more.

With the COVID-19 virus striking, the world has been subjected to “self-quarantine” and “social distancing”, there are several businesses across the globe that have been compelled to support remote working. While some of them struggle and some are successfully able to adapt to the “temporary” new normal there’s a high chance that remote working is here to stay for a lot of people.

Karina Tama, founder of Senior Care Clicks caught up with Jason Barnard, the Brand SERP guy and keynote speaker to talk about the challenges of remote work during COVID19 and share some tips.

1. How did you start your digital nomad journey, working remotely?

I have never had a proper job in a stable office. After leaving university, I joined a touring folk-punk band and lived a nomadic life. Then I started a website for kids in Paris but moved to Mauritius (in the Indian Ocean, just off Madagascar) to build and run it. Less nomadic, but very remote.

I worked from home, right there on the beach, with the business end of things in Paris and the servers in the USA. That taught me a lot about self-motivation, work-day structure, separating work from family life, dealing with long-distance communication and even working with people you have never met.

Since then, I have combined remote work and nomadic living – without a home, constantly travelling and working remotely.

In the current situation, I am obviously no longer changing country on a weekly basis – it’s now AirBnB on monthly contracts and staying in France.

For me, in terms of working, nothing much has changed. For many people, remote working is new, difficult and perhaps scary. Hopefully, I can provide some tips, tricks, and advice to help.

2. In your opinion what is the advantage of working remotely?

You set your own timetable and can organize yourself in a way that suits you. If nobody is standing, looking over your shoulder, then that obviously brings freedom. I find that it makes me more productive since I don’t need to fit in with someone else’s vision of how work time should be organized.

Also, you avoid interruptions from work colleagues which can easily distract your flow – “fancy a coffee”, “can you just help me with this”, “that doesn’t look right” and so on.

3. Do you think working remotely has disadvantages and what are they?

Although it saves you from work-related distractions, it is so easy to get distracted by home and family stuff. It takes a lot of self-discipline (and understanding co-home sharers) to stick to your daily work plan. It is tempting to do the washing up, or cleaning, or turn on the TV, or play with the kids. That’s not a problem as such since they make a nice break. But this can easily become hours of missed work-time that become difficult to catch up on.

4) During COVID-19 most of the people are working from home for the first time. What advice will you give to them?

Probably the biggest is to have a dedicated workspace if possible. Obviously not on the kitchen table (you’ll get interrupted and moved elsewhere on a regular basis), at least on a desk that serves only that purpose, and if possible in a room alone. One frequent problem is that when people see you in a home environment, they have a tendency to forget that you are working. If you are in another room, they forget about you until you reappear.

Get out of your pajamas, take a shower and put on clothes. Maybe even shoes. I don’t follow that particular rule – I often stay in pajamas all day and it works fine. But I do get dressed for meetings and webinars – getting dressed up changes my state of mind and encourages me to take things seriously.

Take a 10-minute break every two hours. This helps with concentration during the other hour and 50 mins and will make the work time more productive. Importantly, do something that isn’t on a screen. Even more importantly, do something that only takes 10 minutes. Starting a game of monopoly with the kids is a bad idea. Playing three rounds of pen and paper hangman or I spy is a good idea. If you get other people involved, (a good idea if you can since the social aspect is a great brain-changer) make sure it is very clear to them that this is a 10-minute activity – especially important with children. It isn’t easy, but if you say “10 minutes now, then 10 minutes in 2 hours” and you stick to it 100%. For the first few days, everyone gets into the habit and it becomes easy, fun, and much less terrain for disagreements.

If you are on your own, ideas might be a walk around the garden, looking out the window and inventing stories for people you see, or playing a musical instrument (that’s mine – a strict regime of “three tunes on the ukulele, and back to work”)

5. Can you share some of your proven strategies to work remotely and be productive?

Video meetings become tetchy affairs if anyone at the meeting has a bad connection – dropped sentences, misunderstandings, interruptions, it all builds up quickly to ruining a good meeting. So a great internet connection, if only for those is something that could make or break a deal, keep or lose you your job.

Tip one for online meetings:

Don’t be afraid to cut the video to make sure everything is heard – great audio is the single most important thing in a conversation.

Tip two for online meetings:

If everyone in the house is on the same internet connection at the same time, your bandwidth might be limited. Rather than shouting at everybody in the house to get off, which causes frustration and isn’t very family-friendly, try your mobile phone as a hotspot, or get a dedicated mobile hotspot. As a nomad, I use Ubigi because it’s reliable and works internationally. That isn’t part of the equation right now, so I bumped my mobile plan up to 100 Gigs/month and use that. Last week, I appeared on over six hours of webinars. I did them all on my laptop, using my mobile phone as a hotspot – not a single glitch, and my video and sound quality were actually better than with the house wifi as you can see here. So experiment with that. Do a try-out meeting with your parents or your friends. Or a virtual pub.

You can do a test speed – My example: 8MB on the house wifi (just about enough for video, but not great), and 40 MB/sec using my mobile phone as a hotspot (easily enough to broadcast on a webinar in HD with great sound).

When I was in Mauritius, I had a young family. Small kids need your attention and don’t understand that you can’t break off from work every time they want you to. Here is my method for dealing with that. My daughter would ask for my attention, and I would systematically ask her to wait two minutes. I could then either finish the immediate task or write down what I needed to remember in order to carry on where I left off. Then I could give her my full attention. But anything she wanted me to do that required more than five minutes had to wait for the “official” 10-minute break, lunch or after work.  I found that by being very consistent with the system and making sure I always kept my word, a mutual understanding settled in and it ceased to be a problem for either of us.

When you think “coffee” or “snack” double-ask yourself whether you even really want them… or is it boredom? Probably boredom. Allow yourself a couple of quick 2-minute stretch-and-look-out-the-window breaks in between official 10-minute breaks.

But when the time comes, force yourself to take that 10-minute break. Do something different to switch off your work-brain. Physical, if possible. Get some fresh air if you can. If not, look at the world from your window and think about what you see there for a moment. Perhaps play a musical instrument (perfect time to learn) or a game – it reboots the brain, and keeps you sane (sounds like a song I could play on the ukulele).

6. What’s your suggestion for people on balancing life while working from home?

Going to work is important. Have breakfast, announce you are going to work, and stick to it on weekdays.

Go home for lunch (it’s not far). Maybe make a joke about it – I started singing to my daughter “I’m home for lunch” and she LOVED it.

Going home is important. At the end of your working day, close the office door (or put the computer away) and disconnect from work in a similar manner to when you went to the ‘real office’. My phrase was “home again, home again, jigged jig” – that was the signal for every day that my attention became 100% family.

Separating work and home is the single most important strategy for keeping both of an even keel.

7) What do you think will happen after COVID-19 with companies that didn’t allow their employees to work from home earlier?

I am not the best person to ask since I have no experience of “the other side”. But, assuming the boss is smart, I would hope that if the work people are doing from home is as good and valuable to the company, more companies will allow people to work from home a part of the time.

And that could just be one thing to help motivate people working from home for the first time. This is perhaps an opportunity – if it goes well for you and for your boss, you may well be able to choose to switch to a mixture of office and home-work.

It has been a learning opportunity for me to talk with Jason, and I will definitely put into practice his tips. I am working from home for a while now. But I still sometimes face the fact of losing focus and get easily distracted at home. I think that now due to the pandemic, a lot of people that are new at working from home will go through the same challenge. I can only say that it is a learning opportunity and an adapting process.

Karina Tama is the founder of Senior Care Clicks and a contributor for Forbes, Thrive Global and the El Distrito Newspaper. She can be found on Twitter @KarinaTama2.

The post Challenges of remote work during COVID-19: Talking with nomad marketer Jason Barnard appeared first on Search Engine Watch.

from Digital Marketing News https://www.searchenginewatch.com/2020/04/13/challenges-of-remote-work-during-covid-19-talking-with-nomad-marketer-jason-barnard/

[listeningpostnola-blog]

Local New Orleans Response to Trump’s Immigration Ban

The Trump administration is denying refugees and immigrants from certain Muslim-majority countries entry to the United States. Trump’s also calling for local law enforcement to help detain undocumented immigrants for deportation. Mayor Landrieu has stated the “NOPD will not be coerced into joining Trump’s deportation army.” http://bit.ly/2jXuQL7 

 1. How do you feel about Mayor Landrieu’s response? 

 -Good. 

-I feel amazing about this response! I do not support deportation of undocumented immigrants and I do not support trumps Muslim ban. 

-100% agree. 

-Agree 

-Hell yes thank you landrieu 

-I am 100% behind landrieu. I am so happy to be an Orleans parish resident who has someone fighting for the rights of all, not just some. 

-Mayor Landrieu's statement is the only reasonable response to the current immigration policy. 

-LOVE IT!! 

-Glad he's taking a stand against federal government overreach. 

-They should have been doing their job from the beggining ! Mayor Landrieu is a rich man who wants to pit poor man against poor man! He wants to get his houses painted cheaper by the Mexican laborers , all while expecting higher taxes on the houses owned by local contractors who are struggling for contracts ! 

-I agree 

-Good! 

-It is the correct response!! 

-I agree with the mayor. 

-It's great. 

-workforce needs more immigrant workers to staff the jobs that other more established/assimilated 2nd & 3rd generation American workers no longer want. And from non-violent people who are pursuing the American Dream, trying to better themselves & our nation. Economics experts have been saying for yrs, tht the US a job that belongs to the Feds! And personally, I question both the judgement & the character of any politician who would expend resources locking up Chump! In all seriousness, NOPD, JPSO & Louisiana State Police have enough problems on their hands, as it is; We dont need to burden local law enforcement with Kudo's (I approve!) Of Mayor Landrieu's response; Thank Goodness we have local politicians who will stand up to the illegitimate Russian-anounted "President" what i've seen, immigrant workers work much harder, than American born citizens do. 

-workforce needs more immigrant workers to staff the jobs that other more established/assimilated 2nd & 3rd generation American workers no longer want. And from -non-violent people who are pursuing the American Dream, trying to better themselves & our nation. Economics experts have been saying for yrs, tht the US 

-a job that belongs to the Feds! And personally, I question both the judgement & the character of any politician who would expend resources locking up 

-Chump! In all seriousness, NOPD, JPSO & Louisiana State Police have enough problems on their hands, as it is; We dont need to burden local law enforcement with 

-Kudo's (I approve!) Of Mayor Landrieu's response; Thank Goodness we have local politicians who will stand up to the illegitimate Russian-anointed "President" 

-I am grateful for his response. 

-Great! 

-I agree with the mayor, but while we are disagreeing as Americans the enemy will slip in. 

-Round of applause!!! 

-👍 

-I love it 

- It's so important. Congress isn't standing up to what's seems to be for all purposes unconstitutional legislation. I'm so happy some Mayors are taking a stand. 

-Great answer! 

-I think it's the appropriate response 

-Great! 

-I am ALL for it. This is America and we are all immigrants here. 

-Appropriate 

-I think it's spot on!

-Thank him for me please. 

-I agree with the mayor. For starters, enforcement of federal immigration laws is outside the jurisdiction of local law enforcement. If the feds need help, they need to deputize new agents. 

-I support his response, but question his motives (political positioning) 

-Praise be! At least one government official ain't drinkin da kool aid 

-It's the right decision. We are a country of immigrants 

-NOPD can barely do basic policing in the city with their manpower problems. Although illegal aliens should get whatever is coming to them, not from NOPD. 

-Extremely positive. I'm very proud of Mayor Landrieu 

-Thank you Landrieu!!! 

-Good on the mayor. History will be kind to those who stood up to Orange Foolius. 

-Love it!! 

-I am with Landrieu 100% on that. I may have some reservations about immigration and how it's handled, but it's not the job of local officers to enforce ICE regs 

-https://www.washingtonpost.com/world/national-security/acting-attorney-general-an-obama-administration-holdover-wont-defend-trump-immigration-order/2017/01/30/a9846f02-e727-11e6-b82f-687d6e6a3e7c_story.html?tid=sm_fb&utm_term=.6e416b348ac8# 

-I am 100% behind Landrieu's decision. Trump is a lying hateful fearmongering assclown. 

-Be the first thing Landrieu has done right! 

-I support Mayor Landrieu 100%! Trump frightens me & he certainly did not have a mandate from the voters. He is arrogant, egotistical & dictatorial. It's a sad day for America. 

-I think it's appropriate 

-Positive! 

-Support Landrieu in this all the way! 

-Allow Taxpayers and Crime Victims The Ability To Sue Politicians For Sanctuary City Policies‼️ 

-I'm grateful our mayor isn't going along with this disgusting ban 

-The United States cannot continue to afford to allow these people from all these different countries in here, they are draining the economy, then most of them send their money to their countries, and complain about ours while there here, Mayor Landrieu’s administration cant even repair our streets, or the crime here, hell they cant even pick up trash here, I woudnt ever vote for another politican in Louisiana nor New Orleans again! 

-LOVE IT 

-He sucks 

-I think that's fine by me 

-I am absolutely for that response we must take action against this bigot regime -Agree with mayor

 -I support the NOPD decision & other PD'S across the country. We can't legitimize militarized facism & police have better things to work on. Elaine Masters 

-Solid 

-Bravo mayor landrieu! 

-Trump rules 

-👍 -Good for the mayor. Full support to him. -Immigrants helped rebuild New Orleans. We should not be hunting them down. We should push our government to offer more possible pathways to citizenship. 

-I fully support Mayor Landrieu's stance! -Outstanding. I Truly respect his response 

-Smart answer. 

-I'm fine with that 

-Thank goodness, so glad he is responding this way!!! 

-Good! That's not the job of the NOPD or any other Police Dept. The NOPD is already understaffed and have more important issues that need to be prioritized. Trumps demands are stupid. Like him. 

-i support it. immigrants - legal or no - shouldn't be afraid of local law enforcement. if someone commits a crime against them they aren't going to report it if they think they'll get deported. 

-Great! 

-I feel it's the right thing to do and I hope he sticks to not cooperating 

-I think it shows strength of character & real leadership. 

-Proud! And relieved that our local political leadership at least is sane. -Go Mitch! All these executive orders are bullshit! 

-Yes, yes, yes. Thanks Mitch! 

-I am glad that New Orleans' leadership will not give into the fear and bigotry of the Trump administration. 

-I don't think our mayor should focus his efforts on this issue. He should consider a real plan to fit crime instead. 

-I stand with the Mayor 100%. Trump 's policy is unconstitutional, immoral and in-American. 

-Perfectly appropriate. 

-Love it!!! So proud of this response! 

-Great 

-Who is this 

-I feel glad. It makes me feel good about our City's leadership. 

-Very happy and hoping Mayor Landrieu will continue to #resist 

-Hallelujah! Finally, an elected official with enough balls to stand up to tyrant trump. Thank you, Mayor Landrieu! 

-Great response. 

-I think it's a very compassionate and the only proper response to such an order. If only more officials would stand up to it in such a way.

 -I am fucking thrilled public servants at all levels are pushing back against that orange troll and I hope Mitch keeps it up 

- Hell yes! 

-Thankful -Refugees aren't being denied access, this is an extension of Obama vetting process. If local government won't follow Federal law as instructed by the Mayor, he then is breaking the law. If refugee is caught breaking the law and found to be here illegally, that refugee SHOULD BE DEPORTED or turned over to Feds for prosecution and/or deportation. 

-I stand behind Landrieu 100% 

-Mayor Landrieu's response is appropriate. There are other agencies to handle such issues and NOPD has other things to worry about 

-The Mayor's response is wise and appropriate. It is not the duty of local law enforcement to do the job of ICE. Aside from being outside their duties, it opens the door to profiling and illegal detainment, which we should be combatting as a nation, not emboldening. 

-I support Mayor Landrieu-s response!!!! Mayor Landrieu is able to critically think and I support him 100%!!! 

-Exactly what needed to be done. Refuse to treat other humans as less than. Fear does not rule this country. 

-Support! 

-NOPD has enough on its plate. 

-I'm with Trump!! 

-Proud 

-Support Landrieu 100% 

-Approve 

-Great job, I agree 

-THANKS MITCH 

-He did the right thing 

-It is a mayor's prerogative to serve the people the of his city. Perhaps immigrants (illegal or legal) don't represent a large enough crime problem in new Orleans for him to reallocate police forces. Disproportionate responses are every bit as wasteful as fraud. 

-He's doing the right thing 

-Awesome! -I feel good about it. I'm glad our mayor has a spine. 

-Brilliant 

-Right is right 

2. How might Trump’s immigration policies affect you or someone you know? 

 -I don't think anyone knows or can say. It's an uncertain, frightening time. 

-These policies are of extreme concern to me and my family and friends as many people who work for my family, including my housekeeper, will be in direct danger of being forced to leave due to policies like this. Many of my friends from college are from middle eastern predominantly Muslim countries and are worried that they may lose the ability to stay in this country and work here as they have for many years. 

-None that I'm aware of. 

-I have an Iranian friend living in Florida who is actually a Swedish citizen. His family was granted asylum there due to conflicts in Middle East. He is a green card holder. He still has family in Iran. They will not be able to travel freely to see each other. I find this appalling and I think Trump is a narcissistic bully who bolsters his "image" on the backs of the oppressed. 

-Donald's immigration policies damage diplomatic and cultural relations with the entire Islamic world, undermining the long-term interests of the United States and her allies. 

-I have numerous clients (I'm a lawyer) who are undocumented. I worry how they will be effected. 

-It affects neither me nor someone I know 

-Badly 

-I work with many immigrants. Not clear on how many might be affected...lots of fear and sadness though... 

-Should not affect me or anyone I know 

-Trump's immigration policies are bad for the economy. Latino workers, in particular, tend to be multi-skilled & are incredibly hard working. Trump's immigration - policies are all a charade to pander to the lowest common denominator of society. What's more, Trump's rhetoric is shameful, hate-filled & xenophoebic & is all 

-Trump's immigration policies are bad for the economy. Latino workers, in particular, tend to be multi-skilled & are incredibly hard working. Trump's immigration policies are all a charade to pander to the lowest common denominator of society. What's more, Trump's rhetoric is shameful, hate-filled & xenophoebic & is all a ploy to lead America towards war, for oil industry profits. 

-My boyfriend is a police officer - as a police officer, without Landrieu's response, he could be tasked with a job he doesn't believe is right. He's also half-Egyptian and was raised Muslim. Additionally, he wants to serve and protect the people of New Orleans not deport them. 

-Not at all. 

-I have many friends and former graduate students from Muslim majority and Latin countries. They add a lot to this country and my life, and have always welcomed me to their countries. I'm sad this policy will inevitably cause trouble that will take years to smooth over. It officially signals the US is not an exception to the autocratic regimes it promises to stand up to. 

-Today the focus is on Mexicans & Muslims. Tomorrow it could be blacks whether born here or not. Racism is racism 

-People will be separated from their families -This country is run on immigrant power. The void at all levels would be felt. Our country would stagnate 

-Not personal. Just bad for the country and the world. -Not -H1B workers are very important to the tech sector. 

-Won't affect me nor anyone I know. Whatever impact is felt anywhere will be worked out in the near future. 

-My daughter has a friend who is a citizen and her parents aren't. She's worried they'll be deported. 

-No idea 

-It won't affect me personally, but how would it affect the kids that go to my daughter's school, especially if they're wrongly accused of being here illegally? 

-I have Muslim friends and colleagues, some from countries on the list. I worry that this EO is just the beginning of an extremely exclusive and opaque regime. More countries will be added, and I worry about that. 

-No one in my family, those that were immigrants did it right and many years ago. But i have known some that got caught in the past in the quagmire of papperwork. 

-They affect us all. This is a country build by immigrants 

-Along with taxpayer savings, greater local, state, and national safety and security. 

-I'm the daughter of an immigrant and while these bans don't affect me personally, I can't help but be affected emotionally 

-I might have a better chance of getting a decent job, because I wont have to compete with so many others from all these foreign countries. Also all of my family were born Americans, for generations, I hope he sends all of the ones here back that should not be here, and I support his efforts. Were over crowded here. This should have been done a long time ago. 

-Well as its just asinine it affects all of us. Terrible track for our country overall. 

-Many friends here in San Diego are terrified. Others are cancelling travel plans. It's a nightmare. Elaine Masters 

-Unsure, but it could tear apart my community. That is not worth it, not at all. 

-There are families in our local schools that could possibly be torn apart. Is that something we want? 

-My friend may nor be able to go to his family's country of origin to visit because of fears of not being able to come back to the US. I also feel like the president is setting the US up to be attacked. 

-Not me personally, but I think diversity is good. Vetting is not bad. But banning is... 

-It won't affect me directly but many families I know may be separated. I know people that are here legally , with green cards or visas and have been held for hours at the airport. This is not very American. 

-it hurts the entire country because it weakens our position internationally and because we NEED immigrants. they're an important part of our workforce and communities -It may not affect anyone I know directly but it's a slippery slope policy that has historically been shown to be ineffective and motivated by fear or xenophobia rather than sound policy 

-It doesn't matter. What affects one affects all. We are our brothers keeper -It will not affect me directly, but that doesn't mean I don't have empathy for those it will affect. 

-Some cannot leave the USA or enter the country. 

-*un-American 

-Well, they're certainly going to piss me off. 

-They will affect all of us as he succeeds in angering and providing fodder for radical groups. It may discourage me from traveling abroad for fear of attacks by th 

-Unclear. We don't know what his next steps are. 

-Some of the families that my children go to school with are immigrants or first generation from those areas. Some of the faculty of Tulane, who are my neighbors, are as well. 

-They don't and that doesn't matter. 

-They will not affect me or anyone that I know. But that makes them no less immoral and/or disgusting! 

-It affects the whole country. By closing our boarders, we make ourselves more vulnerable to attack. We are also weakening our ties with allies 

-Will make one friend's job, who works with international students, much harder and stressful considering how much she cares for her students. Could also affect a friend with dual citizenship (Mexico/US), but he might be okay since he's not Muslim. Then again, he's also Mexican, so maybe not. 

-My grad program has a lot of international students some of whom will be unable to visit their families 

-It causes stress because it seems he is creating a combative environment in our country. 

-Will make us safer 

-I have immigrant friends whose lives are already affected-being taunted for being Muslim. Also family with green cards cannot leave us 

-They don't affect me directly but it is possible my 1st generation Muslim coworker could be affected 

-Whether or not everything ends up being enforced, he has incited fear in the Spanish-speaking community, undocumented or not. Working in social services, I have seen and felt the fear of deportation for a long time. Now, with the root of those fears being potentially empowered, people will be even less likely to seek out life-saving community services, like food stamps, police enforcement of non-immigration issues, health services, education compliance for their children, etc. This is the opposite of progress 

-My daughter came home very upset when uninformed individuals purchasing tickets at LSUs box office kept asking her if she was a citizen because of her appearance. We are Asian American. It is incredibly unfortunate that people in the united states do not read FACTS or listen to credible news sources. The white house and all of those in congress who support it are advertising to terrorists and INVITING retaliation. This is a historical and psychological fact. 

-Potentially devastating. Productive, contributing members of this community that were refused legal entry are also members of my family. I'll fight to my last breath to make sure they can stay here. 

-Will affect several student friends and government colleagues in D.C. How, not sure yet! 

-Participated in mentorship program last year working with Syrian refugee family & I know the grandparents were expected to arrive this year to live with them. I know everyone, the kids & grandkids will be heartbroken. They're a nice family. I'm sad for them. I loved know how much I loved my own grandma. 

-President is mitigating danger for all Americans 

-It affects a lot of my close friends. Friends whose parents and grandparents or themselves may be deported now..... 

-It affects everyone. Marginalizing our fellow humans is degrading, and agitating extremists makes us less safe 

-An assault on the Constitution impacts us all 

-Not sure 

-We are all going to be messed up 

-Not applicable 

- Alot 

-Even if they don't affect me directly, the ethics of trumps policies affect a great deal of people who will be put in positions of great uncertainty and danger. 

-Even if they don't affect me directly, the ethics of trumps policies affect a great deal of people who will be put in positions of great uncertainty and danger. Both here and abroad. He's no humanitarian, and neither are his supporters. 

-It affect my direct peace of mind knowing this can happen to one... It can happen to all. I might b next or my bestfriend 

-I know several people who could be deported under this policy. 

3. What about these executive orders feel different from the policies of the Obama administration? 

-The executive orders are obviously being issued with unprecedented frequency. They seem like the actions of someone wishing to rule as a king, not as a president. 

-The fact that they based upon isolationist, extreme, and dangerous ideology that is not based in evidence or rooted in acceptance of a diversity of identities. 

-Obama's were generally to help people. This is the opposite. 

-Obama was was thoughtful and respectful of all people. Trump's "policies" are thoughtless and down right unconstitutional. 

-Obama's executive orders came after unprecedented obstructionism from the republican congress. Donald has a legislature eager to work with him, and he's behaving like an autocrat, circumventing the democracy entirely. 

-They feel dictatorial and not democratic in any way. He's barking orders at the country without regard for the constitution or judiciary 

-They seem mean-spirited and no substantiated with facts 

-Dump does not care about anyone and his policies are not good for anyone!! 

-Obama's executive orders were socially & environmentally driven, to empower govt actions for the public health, or to look out for the interests of the common 

-man. Trump's executive orders are clearly politically driven & are being done in the interests of big business, & not in the interests of working people. 

-They feel, scary. As if to say, this is my world and you're just living in it. It's an affront to democracy. Obama tried to build a better America, Trump is turning us into a fascist nation. I feel like I'm trapped in a dystopian novel. 

-They are bad...but it's important to note Obama deported more people than any previous president. Why weren't more people marching in the streets then? That concerns me. 

-Obama was a good person 

-These executive orders are reactionary and are aimed at boosting rich nationalists' agenda 

-Impulsive, reckless, mean-spirited. -They are ham fisted and not properly vetted. 

-They actually make more sense than Obama's executive orders. 

My sister, a white, cis, get, middle class woman, is status to leave the country to go to an academic conference. My friend is dating a Middle Eastern man (in the US on a visa) and he can't go home to visit his family. Then there's the fact that the president has stated and enforced a rule that violates previous licenses and assurances made by the US gov't. That affects us all. 

-They're Being fueled by the worst elements of the conservative movement. They're written by Steve Bannon, a straight up white nationalist. 

-Brazen disregard of need to consult even fellow Republicans (or cabinet or inside circle) before starting enforcement 

-I think Obama would have been a little more lenient. 

-There seems to be no regard for process or ample time for review and/or fine tuning to account for smooth implementation. 

-His were permanent, and not racist laden. People in the country are not stupid, there is no mistaken by the choice of countries, they were not where the terrorism came from and the ones that did come from he has business interests in. 

-These are more offensive and exclusive. 

-They feel completely erratic 

-The hate and bigotry behind them. 

-Live by the Executive Order, die by the Executive Order. We need Congress to function and work on bi-partisan solutions, so we avoid the fascist dictator-in-chief trap we're falling in to. 

-President Obama was trying to do the best things he could for our country and it's diverse population. The current administration seems hell bent on isolating the country from the rest of the world and deliberately antagonizing it's citizens. 

-The immigration issue seems to be the most visible and controversial executive order I've seen in my life time as for as I can remember it 

-These executive orders are fundamentally un-American. He is a cruel man. Or has Mr Bannon in his ear telling him what to do. Look at the uproar around the world! Everyone is watching us and has nothing nice to say about the new president. It's an embarrassment. 

-he doesn't want to help other people. only himself 

-While I disagreed with many of Obama's actions as president I think his words showed that he realized America couldn't be safe unless we also worked to make the whole world safe. Trump seems to think we can just shut the door and fortify our borders and we'll be fine. 

-Obama was reacting to a targeted attack with intel he had at the time. Orange twitler is just an outright xenophobic racist toddler. 

-The blatant racism comes to mind...... 

-No comment 

-All presidents overuse executive power and Obama was no exception, but at least Trump's predecessors ran their shit through proofreading. 

-No process, no system, no reason is being applied. -Everything. Obama could be trusted. DT is mentally ill. 

-They aren't well planned or coordinated. They create chaos. They seem to disregard their effects on actual human lives. 

-Why would I care about how they feel? They ARE different from the policies of the Obama Administration. The fact that these EOs were executed are proof -Why would I care about how they feel? They ARE different from the policies of the Obama Administration. The fact that these EOs were executed are proof positive of that fact. 

-They are made with the intent to divide, rather than unite, our country. 

-Trump is marginalizing people based on religion 

-From what I understand the majority of the executive actions within the Obama administration (and they ramped up towards the end and were low in relation to recent past Presidents) were a reaction to a combative and obstructionist congress who were unwilling to work with him. Trump has the majority in the house and senate and still doesn't want to go through those legislative checks. At the same time the policies and actions he's set in motion don't reflect my values and what I feel are the true values of the majority of the American public. 

-They seem punitive and decidedly against the public good in favor of special interests 

-They don't seem inclusive 

-Not as egregious as Obama's 

-Oppressive, Bigotted, Xenophobic, Tyrannical 

-Everything Obama did was scrutinized so any executive orders seemed more thoughtful and strategic. These seem punitive and rash. Additionally, the fact that the countries affected by Trump's business interests were omitted makes it seem unfair and suspicious 

-Everything. Obama was not as proactive with immigration issues as many had hoped, but he still put through DACA and did not shut our borders to the most vulnerable populations. Obama's policies seemed more thought out and researched and planned, rather than the absurdities coming from trigger-happy Trump 

-President Obama’s executive orders were well thought out and compassionate. The executive orders of trump are naive and malicious, shaped by an immature temperament. I do not understand how anyone with an IQ over 70 could have voted for such a candidate. trump is anatiobal embarrassment. -It's obvious, isn't it? Obama tried to foster an inclusive ideology. Drumpf set out to separate and divide us all. And he's doing exactly that. 

-Uninformed and reckless. 

-Reactionary, isolationist, paranoid, misguided - but all of that PLUS ignorant, ugly xenophobia & implemented with beaurocratic, short-sighted incompetence.

 -Trump is acting on his campaign promises - Obama promised "change" and for most Americans, Obama's "change" was negative 

-As far as I know, Obama was clear and open about his executive orders, and they oppressed no one. 

-They feel less than totally thought through 

-His were considered responses to problems the Congress refused to take up. Trump's are solutions to problems that can addressed in other ways 

-Unexpected, clunky, not connected to rational world, more spiteful than useful 

-He trying to ruin everything that Obama has done to make us great again smh 

-They represent an agenda that seems premeditated and founded in an effort to further oppress 

-Very targeted.. Parallel to the 'war on drugs'. Who did President Obama's administration try to oppress?  

-My friends are more fearful