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timothyjchambers · 2 days ago

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The Seven Deadly Fediverse UX Sins Part 2: The Road To Redemption

So you made it through the first fiery sermon. Trust me—I didn’t enjoy preaching it any more than you enjoyed reading it. But every word came from a place of love—for the Fediverse, and for what it still could become.

But fear not, dear reader: as the preacher once said, salvation is within your reach.

And to reward you for slogging through that earlier wall of hard truths, here’s your moment of grace. We’re keeping the cute animal theme going, so here you go:

(insert animal pic, obviously)

The grim part’s over. Truly. From here on out, it’s all hope and possibility. Not even kidding.

Because here’s the good news:

Each of the Seven Deadly UX Sins is fixable—not through divine fiat, but through thoughtful, realistic iteration. And probably by far fewer developers than you’d expect. Many of them are already out there fighting the good fight (though they could always use more encouragement—and dare I say it, a little Patreon love).

What follows is the path to redemption.

A roadmap of what could be—if we want it badly enough.

If you’re building any of these fixes: reach out. I’m happy to offer free, detailed suggestions—no patents, no strings, no license required. Just one ask: drop a little nod in a JavaScript comment or server-side file somewhere so I can brag about it to nobody in particular. I’m a simple man.

And if you’ve got better ideas than mine? Even better. Especially if they’re practical, near-term, and close to ship-ready. My DMs are open. Let’s make this thing work.

Let’s dig in. Get a coffee as this may be a long-ish read.

1️⃣ Redemption for UX Sin One: One Single Social Home to Join, Many Doors to Explore Later.

Rather than the status quo across much of the Fediverse’s onboarding UX—asking new users to choose from 8,000 server names they don’t understand—what about this wild idea:

Offer just one default, trustworthy, well-run server community to start. Which, honestly, is what most people are looking for.

Yes—just one. Not a wizard. Not a choose-your-own-server adventure that most newbies abandon a third of the way through.

One. Am I clear?

For most people joining the Fediverse, simply offer them a single, well-maintained, general-purpose on-ramp to their new social home.

Make it dead simple onboarding—with as few steps as needed to get them going - and not a single click more.

Localized to the user’s preferred language. Seamless. Thoughtful.

Pair that with a short, clear explanation of why it’s the recommended path, and what makes it a good place to begin and links to the friendly local admin. And sure—add a clearly marked, clearly optional toggle: “Choose a different community server,” for the curious and confident.

And please—for the love of onboarding UX: Drop the engineering-speak. Swap “instance” for server community. Make the copy human. Friendly. Clear. Onboarding should take 60 seconds, not 60 decisions.

Yes, Mastodon’s official mobile apps mostly do this already—inspired by Mammoth app, RIP.

Now cue the predictable guy in the back row who rightly asks:

“How does this not just re-centralize the beloved decentralized Fediverse we’re fighting for?”

Simple.

Under the hood, the magic stays decentralized.

Unbeknownst to new users, the onboarding software quietly runs a curated round robin of trustworthy servers—offering just one at random to each new user.

We gave some ideas on how one could choose this trusted set serers for the Mastodon platform here but similar metrics could be created for any Fediverse platform.

Maybe that means the software is choosing from between three trusted community servers in the round robin. Maybe it means dozens. But the user never sees that. That random round robin is being done under the hood.

Users see just one served up to them to join —and that’s the point.

The key: no single server gets favored. New users get distributed, not funneled into a single mothership.

🟨 Decentralization: preserved. 🟨 Friction: dramatically reduced.

Plenty of time to educate folks on the joys of migrating to other community servers later should they choose to. It’s not rocket science. Friends and I proposed this years ago. Still waiting on someone to take it across the finish line.

Pixelfed. Mastodon. Bonfire. Friendica. Misskey. PeerTube. Bookwyrm. Patchwork. Warfn. Snort. Bleeb. (Just made up those last two to see if you were still paying attention)

But to that whole crew above and others… Let’s make it a race. Let’s see who nails this first—and shows the rest of the web how it’s done.

And if you’re running a non-general purpose server, say, a cool, niche-focused server community like the affore mentioned Jazztodon? Or other fun topic focused ones? You’re not out in the cold on this fix. It already exists for Mastodon just to share a link like this - rather than sending them to some more global sign up.

It already uses the same model: a clean, direct onboarding flow with just one server—yours. Invite your people, your way.

No dropdown menus. No guesswork. Just:

“Join our space. Let’s go.”

2️⃣ Redemption for UX Sin Two: One Feed To Rule Them All (at First).

Let’s be honest: per UX Sin Two: most users—especially new ones—don’t care or are abjectly confused about the metaphysical distinctions between Home, Local, and Federated feeds. Mashing them together under a “Live Feeds” menu isn’t the solution IMHO.

So here’s crazy talk: don’t confuse them and upon first arrival, only feature ONE feed. Just one feed. Simple. Personal. Familiar.

Call it Home. Just the people you follow. Just what you asked for. That’s what every user expects—and what feels safe, legible, and human.

If they’re not following many folks yet? Nudge them gently: “Here are some great active accounts to get you started.” Different Fediverse platforms do this to mixed results, all can do better.

Once they’re settled, expand the horizon—progressively:

A few days in, they see this on their home feed from their friendly local admin account:

“Want to check out what is trending people nearby on your server are talking about?”

A week later from same:

“Curious about the chatter across the Fediverse? (Warning: it gets weird—in a good way.)”

You get it. This is called progressive disclosure—a fancy UX term for “don’t drop the entire buffet on someone who just asked for toast.”

Game designers do it, allowing characters to “level up” as they go. We should too. And when you do introduce content or users from the Local and Federated views, make them feel like power-ups, not puzzles.

Let people toggle. Let them filter. Let them filter, and sort with easy tools as they explore. But start with clarity, not complexity.

As with Redemption #1, this fix doesn’t require much complex backend wizardry. No protocol overhauls needed. Just frontend compassion. The equivalent of a cron script and some solid user experience design dust.

Honestly? Elk, Phanpy, or Patchwork could probably ship a beta v1 of this idea before you finish reading this post. Let’s go.

3️⃣ Redemption for UX Sin Three: Remote Actions Redeemed

You know the sin already. We covered it in Sin #3: Remote Interaction Purgatory back in Part 1 of this series. So let’s skip the anatomy of the pain and get straight to the path out of this hell.

And yes—apps like Ivory, Mona, and Ice Cubes? They largely sidestep this sin. Good for them. But the Open Social Web is, you know, about the web.

And for the millions of people trying to explore the Fediverse in a plain ol’ browser, this is one of the worst and thorniest of UX offenses.

I’ll spare the gory details, but it boils down to one thing: Browsers support a standard called “protocol handlers.” Or more accurately, how some browsers don’t.

If you’ve ever clicked a mailto: link and your email app just opens, that’s a protocol handler. In a perfect Open Web, it would be just as easy:

Set your home server once (prompt ed to do so during onboarding – or at worst when you engage on another server).

From then on? Follows, replies, boosts—across any server—just work.

Folks (myself included) have been hashing over what magical incantation should be used to actually make this work:

“Use web+ap!” “No, fedi+ap!” “Wait, what about activity+magic?”

Germanic feuding tribes settled things faster than this.

And yes, browser support used to be completely hot garbage. But here’s the twist: it’s not nearly as bad anymore. As of now, almost 90% of users from desktop browsers but still sadly with almost zero mobile browser support.

When you look at users of Mastodon as an example, that maths out to about half of all users could use this solution now.

That is enough for making this far better for so many today, and with a bit of JavaScript fallback, we can cover everyone else.

We’re not waiting on a miracle. We just need to create and ship. Here’s the redemption arc for this UX sin in two steps.

When a user first interacts with a remote server (a post, a profile, anything), the code will prompt them once to confirm this Fediverse protocol handler.

✅ One click.

✅ One prompt.

✅ Done. Forever done.

Guy in the back, raising hand, rightly: “But what about all the browsers that don’t support handlers?”

Relax. We got them too. Just drop in a lightweight JavaScript snippet on that server that:

Asks (once) what the user’s home server is. And at worst only gets one more aks form their home server “are you sure?”

Then it does the following in the background under the hood:

Rewrites all remote follow/reply/engagement links in the background automagically.

And then for every user and every post on that server —✨it just works✨ forevermore.

No more “open in your instance” dead ends. No more copy-paste drama.

Are you the kind of masochist who wants the gory details of this idea? No kink-shaming here. Dig in (including code you can steal):

👉 The Remote Fedi UX Protocol Handler Plan™

OK so I think that solution is pretty good - at least a ton better – but what if we know that we could count on server code to do some of the lifting? Could we go even better from a UX perspective?

That might take more time to do: but if Mastodon, or Pixelfed, or Peertube servers got in on the act and added some custom code there - I think we might be able to make that JavaScript failover code actually be ZERO prompts. See the later more exploratory “Option C” part of this proposal - FediDev’s and JavaScript folks and see if I got that wrong. Or if my crazy talk for Option C might work. I haven’t seen a show-stopper yet.

But all options of what I am proposing above should be able to work on any fediverse platform.

And yes—to the true believers out there, rightly working on the true end goal of getting a single protocol handler as a canonical standard adopted by all browser vendors: thank you. You are doing the Lord’s work.

But for the rest of us? We don’t have to wait. Even the basic version of the idea here takes a few paragraphs of code, not divine intervention.

It’s just… basic UX hygiene. Who’s going to dig in, proof case this, and ship it first?

Once one of you does—and the sky doesn’t fall—the rest will follow like dominoes.

4️⃣ Redemption for UX Sin 4: Direct Messages that Aren’t a Death Trap

As I wrote in Sin 4 in the previous blog post: sending a DM in the fediverse are confusing UX experience, that basically are a panic attack waiting to happen.

So let’s fix it. Developers:

Build a real DM composer. Not a slightly tweaked post box. Not “just set visibility to Direct.” A separate space. Different UI. And make it glaringly visually different - no subtle mild color difference or tiny visual flare. Make it as obvious a purpose as a Chernobyl button to empty out fuel.

Slap a giant banner across the top if encryption isn’t available. If it’s not secure, say so—loudly.

Throw a confirmation modal any time someone flips visibility to or from “Direct.” Yes, every time. One bad toggle should never equal public humiliation.

Color-code visibility tiers like your reputation depends on it:

🔓 Public. 👀 Followers-only. 🙈 Unlisted. 🔒 DM.

You know—something humans can actually see and understand.

And for the love of privacy, label every DM with “Not Encrypted” right in the message window. Not in the fine print. Not in the docs. Right there. Every time. Forever.

Because this isn’t overkill. This is respecting boundaries. This is basic UX dignity.

⚡️ And in case you think this is all pie in the sky—guess what?

Chee Anne at Phanpy already did nearly all of this.

Separate composer, clear dramatically, unmissable different visual distinctions for DM’s, safer flows. They moved private messages into their own tab by itself, away from the others and away from the Main Feed. It’s thoughtful, it’s sane, and it’s live.

Here is another great example from an upcoming Newsmast and Channels App UX:

The rest of you: copy their homework. The answers are right there.

5️⃣ Redemption for Sin 5: Search Without Surveillance

Search shouldn’t feel like shouting into the void—or worse, like you’re being punished just for asking.

To be fair, Mastodon’s search system on paper rocks. PixelFed and PeerTube’s federated search? Same.

But here’s the problem: for these—and many other federated platforms—search is opt-out by default per user, and that opt-in option for users to turn on if they choose is buried.

Meanwhile, other fediverse platforms like Misskey, Frendica, Lemmy and Hubzilla made different choices: making it so all public posts on those spaces are by default searchable. In essence defaulting to opt-in for search unless users individually opt-out. That worked for them.

But across Mastodon, Pixelfed, PeerTube, and others?

Search is locked behind obscure settings and rarely explained consent screens. Most users don’t even know search opt-in is a thing.

Right now, federated search is like a power tool buried in a locked cabinet,

down a hallway, behind a curtain labeled: “Don’t Worry About It.”

Here’s the good news: We don’t need to replicate Big Social’s surveillance dragnet to make discovery delightful. We can do this while also respecting user consent and privacy. The backend tech? Mostly done from a tech point of view.

The real challenge now? UX. This is an opt-in problem—and we already have the tools to fix it.

Here’s the better path forward:

✅ Nudge users early. And often. Make the choice to opt-in to search unmissable during onboarding. Then reinforce it gently and re-prompt users to opt in - every time a user tries to search.

Give them clear, kind, privacy-respecting language:

“Search helps others find your public posts. It never touches your private ones. Want in?”

Let them decline, sure. Let them silence future prompts. But always give them the why.

✅ Enrich search NOW with these great hand-chosen feeds.

Curated topic feeds? Already out there. Newsmast, Flipboard, Surf, and others are curating hundreds of quality feed lists right now.

Let’s plug these in like power cables into a server rack—directly into federated search engines of today and into Fediscovery search as it launches - and into all key relay servers to boot. Make 100% sure these are all findable, and featured, beyond just being “public” as they are now. Let the good, human-curated stuff shine inside search.

✅Nudge admins to help, too.

If a server’s opt-in rate is low, send a prompt to encourage the admin to reach out to their users. Give them a clean, pre-written nudge. Include a one-tap opt-in button to opt-in they can share. Most folks just need to know it’s an option and a simple way to say yes.

🛠️ Mid-Term Fixes Worth Considering

🟨 Consider building into future search features that let server admins choose the default search opt-in state appropriate for their community - and that might be defaulting new users to opt-in for some. where it fits their needs.

This one might be controversial, but I just put on my fireproof gear and am ready - it’s worth a serious look.

Every server has its own culture. So let the server set appropriate call for their community: Opt-in by default, or Opt-out by default. But in all cases, the user has final say. As long as consent is respected, flexibility is strength in my book. Far better than a divine fiat across the whole Fediverse.

🟨 Watch this space: Federated Auxiliary Services Providers (FASP- a tech acronym that just rolls off the tongue doesn’t it?) But the first FASP based offering to go live will be Search - is coming soon! Early tests are in sight!

This project will launch a unified, cross-platform search layer—exactly what the fediverse ecosystem needs. That promises to be a game changer. Here’s hoping.

But while we wait?

Most of the groundwork is already laid. Most of the wins are low lift. We have what we need to make federated search feel like a superpower.

We just need to unlock it—for everyone.

Let’s get to the point where people say:

“Wait… why didn’t I turn this on sooner?”**

5️⃣ Redemption for Sin 5: Filling in the Blanks of Ghost Conversations

The bad news: this one’s not just a superficial fix. It needs real backend plumbing—deeper stuff that most Fediverse mortals can’t DIY.

(Though it is not rocket science level - users like this have shown how it’s done in miniature form)

The good news: it’s already underway at Mastodon. And not in the “quote-posts-have-been-in-the-works-since-2019” sense of being underway. We’re talking real commits. Real work. This year.

➡️ When a user opens a post, their server begins fetching the surrounding context—replies, parent posts, and profiles—automagically. The UX then should immediately let users know - fetching posts is underway…so don’t panic, wait a second and all will be well.

Want to peek under the hood? The dev threads on GitHub are alive with it. Feature merged into Mastodon upcoming release. See for yourself:

🔧 Thread fetching on Mastodon GitHub

Merged in and closed. On the runway for a near term Mastodon release.

Some other Fediverse platforms are also working on this problem for their platforms —most notably NodeBB, Discourse, Wordpress, Frequency, Mitra and Streams. Everyone else: please take notes from what works. Fork it. Build it. Improve it. Help other to do the same.

This one fix could massively reduce confusion, dead-end threads, and ghost replies.

Meanwhile, for client apps:

Elk, Phanpy, IceCubes, Ivory, Mona, Newsmast Mobile —can you lend a hand here? Even while we wait for the full back-end fix, you can improve the experience with a few thoughtful touches:

If a reply or profile can’t be fetched, show a friendly, clear placeholder:

“👻 *Reply not federated here yet. Want us to try to get it updated?”

Let users tap to fetch it manually, if needed. But make it clear what is up.

Show when a profile is incomplete and offer to sync to the latest and greatest.

Consider a simple age warning: “Heads up: this might be old or partial. Click here to refresh and update.

Even these little affordances make a big difference. They tell users:

“No, you’re not crazy. The Fediverse just hasn’t pulled this in yet.”

And for anyone out there grumbling that Mastodon (orny platform) isn’t moving fast enough—maybe skip the subtweets and fund them.

(And here are a few helpful links in this regard.)

A few dollars a month moves roadmaps more than a thousand hot takes.

Oh, and speaking of hot takes, here is one: If you are a coder, maybe roll up your sleeves and pitch in. Perfect example: The initial contribution for the Mastodon fix for fixing and filling in ghost conversations came from Jonny - neuromatch.social/@jonny Who was a new Ruby coder at the time but didn’t let that hold them back - and they sparked this crucial addition.

Give them some thanks and netfame online!

6️⃣ Redemption for Sin 6: Make Great Content Unmissable

Let’s be honest: even outside of search, the Fediverse still fumbles content discovery (See Sin 6) But buck up: There are a thousand ways we could help users find the posts, people, and conversations they actually care about—without building a surveillance dragnet or rage-bait machine.

It’s time to bring back and scale up old fashioned human editorial discovery.*

(Remember “blog rings”? OK, most folks under 50 don’t—but trust me, they worked way better than they had any right to.)

Let’s revive human-curated content—with a Fediverse twist. The good news? We already have an embarrassment of riches just waiting to surface—if we design for it with some smart, consent-respecting UX.

So why is this stuff still so hard to find?

🟨 Federated well moderated groups from upvoting platforms like Lemmy, Piefed, and Mbin are already bubbling up top posts, voted on by real people. Why not spotlight them?

(Note, Piefed is already got the ball rolling with their version of feeds)

🟨 From Redemption Path Five, remember these? We already have hundreds of hand-picked thematic feeds from:

Newsmast

Flipboard’s federated magazines

Flipboard’s News Desks

Individual curators building focused feeds

Surf’s Social Feeds (soon to be federated!)

These are not theoretical. They’re already open web content. Usable right now. So let’s feature them. Pipe them into onboarding, trending views, search, suggested follows—anywhere users might want to find signal in the noise.

💡 Slightly mid-term idea:

🟨 What if the current public server directories from each community server became feed actors too? Hear me out on this one.

Most Fediverse servers already show off public profiles—and many expose each public user posts via RSS. Given that RSS can be turned into a Mastodon bot in no time, we are more than half way there.

Let’s evolve that: turn each server’s local public post stream into a followable ActivityPub actor. A single, followable automated account for all voices on a server. Make it so each admin can opt out - like some opt out of making their public feed visible now. Make it so they can configure their own ServerBot to only boost posts with certain engagement, or set filters on it and all that good moderating stuff.

I, for one, welcome our new ServerBot overlords.

These kinds of curated “boosting bots” are how Newsmast Channel feed accounts work. Could a standard protocol for feeds be better? Hells, ya. Working group folks are on that.

But until then - this works TODAY. And then notice how all such ServerBots are followable immediately. And remixable and addable into other feeds, etc. These are all lego blocks building on each other.

Browsing remote public feeds: Apps are already hacking toward this with clunky workarounds. People want this. Let’s make it work on the web, too. Smooth. Intentional.

Someone smarter than me, help prototype this one. I’ll talk you up, I promise.

All these ideas—both near-term and mid-term—are really just about one thing: curated feed accounts. Most of them already exist. They just need the spotlight.

So what now?

📍 Index them in existing search. All of them. Prepare to index them into the Fedisovery FASP once that launches. Stat.

📍 Evolve feed standards to make easier to build and make them remixable—so apps like Surf, Flipboard, Newsmast and others can feature them and and build on them.

📍 Pull them into big relay hubs to boost visibility across the network.

Done right, great public content starts to feel everywhere. No tracking. No noise. No black-box algorithms.The Fediverse is overflowing with public posts that people want to be seen.

Let’s help them be seen—while respecting server context and dramatically improving discoverability.

Let’s make great content… unmissable.

7️⃣ Redemption for User Discovery Hell: UX for People Finding

Let’s imagine a world where we’ve fixed all the other sins. Welcome to Fediverse Narnia. Content is rich. Discovery is delightful. Search is humane and powerful. Great.

But even in that better world, Sin #7 still haunts us: finding people. Not just content—people. Friends. Experts. Communities. Shared interests. It’s a related beast, but a distinct one.

So here’s how we begin to tame it—mostly with smart UX and a little coordination:

🟨 Give server profile directories a real UX overhaul.

Make them sortable and filterable and searchable:

By interest or profile tags

By post recency

By community role

And auto-hide inactive accounts unless the user asks to see them

And for Mastodon, do the same for the Explore People tab. And make the Explore Hashtags page so that each tag is foldable with one click. Other Fedi platforms: do similar tune ups.

Right now, many server directories are just flat walls with limited sorting or browsing. Let’s turn them into useful, browsable, followable entry points to the community.

🟨 Pipe local community server profiles into opt-in Fediverse-wide discovery hubs. Simply making them an ActivityPub actor alone would get you more than halfway there. Just like we suggested for public posts in Sin 6—let’s do the same with people. Let users opt in to be featured in thematic discovery feeds or server-based “people to follow” hubs. Let this be federated.

Fediscovery once it launches should be a playground to try this out - and should be an early thing to try.

But until then: Here too I’ll bet Patchwork, Pleroma, Misskey or others could do this quickly and lessons adopted by everyone else.

🟨 Fix follower/following graph federation. Once Sin 5 (the federation of follows/followers content) is fixed, you’ll actually be able to see who someone follows across instances. You find someone awesome? You can actually explore their social graph—just like you expect in every other social app. This fix is foundational. And these fixes all build on each other.

Also, wait for it:

💡 Mid-term idea: Federated Starter Packs Are Coming

Bluesky got this one mostly right: give new users a thoughtfully curated “starter pack” of people to follow. It eases onboarding, sparks connection, and gets feeds flowing fast.*

But Bluesky they left out pesky things like security - their version left out any means to get yourself off of a list you don’t care to be associated with.

Now imagine a Fediverse version that’s got a bit more privacy respect to keep you off of starter packs you don’t want to be on. It’s on its way from a few places. Here is one in the works from Mastodon, and here is another.

I’d offer some other notes: Fedi Starter Packs could live at either the user but also discoverable integrated at the server level, too.

Like Surf Social App does today with BlueSky Starter packs, they need to be remixable into other feeds by curators, Maybe in some fashion they could be shared as ActivityPub actors themselves—just like a feed. (See a pattern forming?)

✨ The goal for all of these ways of fixing account discovery? Make discovering people feel effortless, inviting, and safe.

Because the open social web isn’t just about finding content. It’s about finding each other**.**

🌀 OK let’s bring this two part series in for a landing:

Here’s the real punchline:

Almost none of the short term fixes I listed above require:

Rewriting the protocol - no need to wait for longer term fixes. (Though we love improved protocols ,too)

They don’t need a governance working group. (But might inform them)

They don’t need VC funding.

They mostly don’t even need big backend changes beyond what is already done.

What they do need?

What they need is focus. What they need is momentum.

The willingness to say “good enough” isn’t good enough if it leaves people confused, invisible, or gone.

Most of these paths out of UX Hell are:

Mostly Frontend tweaks and updates

Smarter federation fetches - and some manual bandaids to tide us over for a few months

Rediscovered ideas from the early web implemented with the raw materials we have

And a dash of UX love

The Fediverse already has what most platforms spend billions for and can’t buy:

🫀 We have the passion. 🧭 We have the values. 👥 We have a community that actually gives a damn.

Now it just needs the polish—and a collective push to make great user experience a first-class priority.

Thus endeth the sermon. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

Let’s get to work.

This was the Final Part 2 of my two-part series on the Seven Deadly UX Sins of the Fediverse. No more sequels. This is it for th3e series. But will chat it up in comments.

Missed Part 1? Go read it—or send it to that friend still wondering why their cat memes don’t federate properly. And if you’re building any of these fixes: DM me. I’ve got free suggestions, zero patents, and endless opinions.

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thedreadvampy · 3 years ago

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trying to work but despite not having really. been in the fandom for ages I'm getting all het up about how with TMA fandom like. people were given these really dense and interesting and nuanced character arcs over multiple series for a core cast of female characters (Melanie, Georgie, Basira, Daisy) and IMMEDIATELY AND UNQUESTIONINGLY ignored those, pasted this exact character traits and complexities onto their fanon versions of male characters, then periodically complained that women weren't interesting or were Bad.

like this is a complaint I've been seeing about various fandoms for the last 15 years at least tbh (it's been going on longer but I wasn't there) but I really FELT it this time

people really haaaaated like Basira and Daisy for feeding the Fears and being cops, Georgie for being Mean To Martin and walking away from a friend in crisis, Melanie for being hostile and distrustful, and they'd like decide that that was All Those Characters Were and deem them Bad and Boring. but then the exact same people would go away and justify the exact same things from other characters or literally like. sprinkle them in where they aren't even there in canon to add spice.

like YEAH Daisy and Basira are cops who abuse power to do huge harm, that's like. the key tension of their characters like ultimately they've done things that are unforgivable and how they respond to that (Daisy tearing herself apart and then eventually falling back into her violent desires, Basira closing her eyes to it and continuing to find justifications). but it's wild that people would be like 'if you're invested in this character you're a cop apologist' then go straight into calling Elias or Peter their poor little meow meow bc it must be Sooooo Haaaard Having To Be A Murder Capitalist. and they would go on to put the narrative arc of trying to handle having done unforgivable things and trying to resist your Avatarhood onto men who either have only the vaguest gestures at that beat (like Mike or Michael) or onto men who like literally their whole deal is embracing their place in systems of abusive power (Elias and Peter)

like I legit saw people calling Melanie boring and saying her only character trait is being angry and then FAWNING over Gerry for being a Cool Monster Killer or weeping over how HARD it was for Jon to be so paranoid that he couldn't trust anyone. inventing backstory tragedy for people that mirrored Melanie's and then totally ignoring her stated history. absolutely HATING Melanie for being Mean to Jon and Georgie for being Mean to Martin even though both of those men are consistently harsh to those around them.

(honestly like so much of Melanie's nuance in particular got transplanted specifically onto Gerry in fandom)

Tim's the Fun One and Sasha's the Shy Sensible One even though in canon the little bits of Sasha we see show her as silly and light and confident in her own worth and matching Tim joke for joke. Georgie gets sidelined so that Martin can be The One Who Cares For Jon. When Georgie walked away because she couldn't help Jon that was seen by a lot of fans as selfish and unforgivable but when Martin did the same thing except instead of therapy and support he went into playing with the Fears that was laudable and sad.

and like. Jon. like so much about these characters specifically is that they're like. often a foil for Jon. making different choices in similar situations. Daisy and Jon handle realising they're monsters similarly but differently; Melanie and Jon handle paranoia and being stuck in the Archives similarly but differently; Georgie and Jon handle dealing with situations that aren't fixable similarly but differently; Basira and Jon handle embracing the reality of the Fears similarly but differently. and I feel like a LOT of the time where Jon came out looking less favourable in these comparisons (which is often - Jonny doesn't go easy on his protagonist) big chunks of fandom either ignored it or straight up changed his response to look more like the sympathetic ones that his female compatriots took.

TL;Dr I guess but the point is where female characters made bad choices or did morally dodgy things they were judged much more harshly by fandom than male characters - an unambiguously evil man was granted more space for nuance and sympathy than a morally grey woman. when they were given tragic or sympathetic or positive emotional beats those were consistently lifted and put onto male characters, even if that meant elevating a tiny background character like Mike or Gerry by attaching someone else's story arc to them. and then the fandom complained that they were boring or unlikeable. it is simply. bollocks.

#tma #yeah idk why I'm chewing on this like a year after i last engaged with the fandom in any real way #red said

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punsandfuturekingsmen · 3 years ago

Note

The package on his doorstep is wrapped in blue and gold striped paper, and atop it is a card. The front picture shows a cartoony, zeerust-style robot playing a keytar, with a small birthday hat pasted atop its head as a custom addition. Inside is written: "Happy Birthday, Artie! I had wanted to give this to you in person, but I've come down with a bad headcold and I figured that would be a pretty shitty present to give you. I hope our little friend here makes you smile anyway! He's fallen on some hard times lately as you can see, but I figured you'd enjoy a Project built-in to your gift! I'm sure you can restore his glory days to him! With love -- Vivi"

Inside the box is an antique windup toy. An armored knight sits atop a horse, which is attached to a wheeled base. Though the windup mechanism doesn't work currently, it seems that if it's repaired, not only will the wheels send the toy forward, but the horse's front legs also look to be articulated-- they'll probably move a bit to create the illusion of a trot. It looks like the knight's sword arm might move up and down at the shoulder, too. It's definitely seen better days, even aside from not working, but it should be possible to restore.

He always opens the cards first, but he can't help but nod to himself as he sees it. This was way more Vivi style, with bright blue and nerdy imagery. And this nerdy imagery going for retro futuristic and also jamming out goofily on a keytar? That he was a sucker for, which probably meant one particular Vivi, who was just as much a nerd as he was. Especially with a little birthday hat so carefully added. It was the little things, the little, careful details, because that's what she loved to make perfect in a way that often was perfectly him. His face warmed up as he opened the card.

Arthur frowns at hearing she's not feeling well-- he'd have to get her something to help with that, even if she'd probably have everything she'd need on hand. She would feel bad if she caught it, but that wouldn't stop him from at least leaving her a nice crock of soup or something to nibble on so she didn't have to brave the outside world to restock. Though...she did have her own Arthur. He might do that for her.

He shook his head. That didn't matter as long as she was taken care of, and would Vivi really complain about extra soup?

Instead of thinking further, he filed away the note to send her something, and focused on tearing away the paper. There was something exciting about seeing what it was, especially knowing it might be something he could mess with and tinker on. The box was somewhat heavy, so it made him think metal, and he was proven right on opening it.

Arthur's eyes sparkled as he took in the details. There were little engravings on the sheets of metal that'd been welded to make his armor. They were caked in dirt or dust so they were a garish brown, but they were there, and he could only imagine how pretty they'd look, freshly cleaned and painted with a colorful wash to make them pop. The plates were layered pretty realistically too, and honestly, it was one of the coolest toys he'd seen in years. The helmet had a tiny dent that gave the toy character, and the horse had one of the reins snapped where it should have connected to the knight's free hand. One of the legs felt a little loose at the joint, the pin keeping it in worked out enough that he could see the point coming out the one side.

All of it was fixable, and the innards would probably be fascinating to tinker with, too. Maybe he could make it into a kinetic sculpture, too. Upgrade it to move on its own, like that one inspiring swan sculpture he liked. Maybe he'd strip the paint down and leave it wholly metal. He could incorporate some music if he wanted. There were honestly a thousand things he could do if he was so inclined.

Ooooohhhh..... Vivi was very very good at gifts. He'd have to get her some soup, and find a way to say thank you for something so fucking rad.

#answering things #ic #arthur speaks #deepbluevi #Blue Babe #birthday boy #AWWWW

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halothenthehorns · 4 years ago

Text

TLTNL- THE OTHER MINISTER

Remus wasn't really asleep. Sirius had shared a dorm with him for seven years and a flat for the past two years already, he knew how he slept as well as any of his mates, far better than anyone from his own house, so those little snorts he was trying to pass off as his real sleep wasn't fooling anyone, especially not Sirius. He let him keep going though, in hopes that he actually would fall asleep soon. Sirius, for once, was not in a very talkative mood tonight. None of them really were, which is likely why the other three had gone to bed so early after an equally timely supper. The curiosity lingered of course, to ask why Moony would feign sleep instead of staying up for whatever time they pleased, chatting away about nothing. Both of them were night-owls by nature, easily staying awake the latest without even realizing it. James had more been the early riser, bounding out of bed with the most energy easily and whipping them all up for the morning.

Sirius had to force his mind to cut off there, to remind himself again why he couldn't just go out right now and fix this problem that had lead to more awkward silence between them than even Sirius had ever caused. So instead he sat there, stirring his cold tea and gazing out the back door at nothing and forcing himself to remain on an issue he could pick apart. Normally Remus only feigned sleep the night before a full moon, he was usually least talkative those days and still no matter what tried to put a bit of distance between himself and everyone else. This clearly wasn't it this time though. Perhaps he was just dreading what they were going to hear next like they all were, no one wanted to keep going and hear more of Harry's life after what he'd last been through. It grew harder by the day to pretend like this future was fixable, now even he wasn't around to help Harry anymore. Remus was the last of James' friends who stood any chance in staying in Harry's life, and his track record wasn't stellar for doing that so far. Remus likely no more believed than Sirius it would change now.

By far the most agitating part of it was that Moony hadn't just come and talked to him about it. Sure he feigned normalcy earlier when they'd been reading those Beedle tales with Harry, but Sirius had still been waiting at any moment for Remus to turn around and tell him what was really on his mind. He hadn't, and he still wasn't now at the most opportune time.

He was trying to be mature about this, not let the idea his future would cease after so many terrible and long years crush him into a weeping mess. So he wouldn't go in and bother Moony if he didn't want to be, but also the idea of being shut up in a room alone was just too repellent right now, even in a house he actually liked. What he wouldn't give just to leave, for ten minutes. To be back in the Forbidden Forest where their biggest worry was which direction Moony was headed in, the moonlight bathing everything with a mysterious glow they understood better than anyone, just running to run and caring for nothing more than each other...

James came down the stairs next morning and frowned with concern. Remus was face down into the couch cushions like always, but Sirius seemed to have passed out at the table right where he'd left him last night. He'd fully expected Padfoot and Moony to be up for hours chatting away like he and Lily had, but clearly neither had moved an inch.

With a heavy sigh he went to work getting his infant's morning bottle ready, and settled in the seat next to his best man, sitting contently as his charge at his breakfast. James couldn't sit in silence for long though, so as soon as the baby was done he set him in his highchair and reached over to prod Sirius awake.

He merely groaned and buried his face into the crook of his arms, the cup of tea coming dangerously close to being knocked over in the process. James scooted this farther away from him before doing it again. "You're an idiot."

"Always a lovely thing to hear first moment of the day," he muffled around a yawn.

"Then don't be an idiot and fall asleep in a position that we're going to have to hear about all day," he returned much more pleasantly. It wasn't that unheard of, Sirius had been known to fall asleep over his homework a few times in their sixth year, but they'd learned the reason for that later, at the time they just hadn't realized how right they'd been in mocking him for trying to impress someone.

"Why's he slumped over the table this time?" Lily yawned her greeting as she passed by.

"I'm working up to that," James promised.

She stopped and greeted her infant before giving her husband a quick kiss and sitting down on his other side. Sirius still had his face buried away, but the scent of the bacon and eggs she'd started had his nose finally twitching towards the surface.

It wasn't until Harry came down the stairs that Sirius forced himself to wake fully, rousing by shaking himself and blurry eyes focusing on nothing.

"I volunteer Sirius to be the one to wake up Moony," James said around a full mouth, runny egg still going down his chin.

"I say we leave him there, if he wants to sleep through breakfast that's his problem," Sirius huffed while ripping bacon apart and managing to fit more in his mouth that way.

Lily turned with the same napkin she'd just used on her infant to plop onto James' face as a hint before going up to do it herself while the boys hardly noticed as they kept bickering.

Even as Remus joined, stirring brown sugar into his eggs but still mixing more than eating them, Harry seemed the last to really wake up. Who would have thought he'd long for the dreams of the graveyard back, yet the replay of watching Sirius fall through the veil all night had been more a stab to his soul than Voldemort could ever do to him.

He would have thought coming down here and finally interacting with him would help, but even watching that color on his face, hearing him chat animatedly with his dad, watching him shift his weight restlessly as even food couldn't contain all of his energy, it only made the feeling he'd been suppressing the past day double. This wasn't his Sirius, the one he'd lost fourteen years from now. So how then was he supposed to cope with a loss when it kept making jokes in his face?

Lily had to wrangle all of the boys to get into the living room so they could start Harry's next year, if she had to see her boy with half-lidded eyes much longer she would have tucked him back into bed herself, yet just as much she couldn't have stood hearing the sounds of his nightmares through the walls. She and James had gone in there through the night to soothe him, but he'd hardly seemed any better in their presence.

She'd even seen Sirius duck out, but his presence seemed to have helped no more. Their ability to comfort him had lasted no longer than his childhood innocence, and it was quickly growing worse by the hour as he continued to pull away from them, absorbed more than ever in memories of pain. So she went back to reading, determined more than ever to help him have all of those moments from his past back, so that he could start focusing on his future.

The book was a gossamer silver, with a little green six on the spine. Its length hadn't lessened any since Harry's fourth year, and cracking open the spine new to the first page still felt like a bad omen.

It was nearing midnight and the Prime Minister was sitting alone in his office, reading a long memo that was slipping through his brain without leaving the slightest trace of meaning behind.

Sirius had been fully prepared to start back in Privet Drive, hearing of Harry's suffering there again somehow worse than ever, so the response on the tip of his tongue fell flat and instead they all gave mutters of confusion, and some relief. They had no clue what a Muggle Prime Minister had to do with anything, but honestly the fact that they weren't focusing on Harry right now was a bit of relief considering where they'd left him.

Lily took this in stride though. The fact that it wasn't starting on Voldemort was as good a note as she could ask for considering previous times these books had gone off Harry, so she happily asked of him, "oh, do you know who it is?"

"No," Harry answered with a shrug. He hadn't done a very good job of keeping up with Muggle politics.

Lily went back to the book in slight disappointment. Her father worked in the current Prime Ministers' office as the secretary, and it would have been interesting if Harry knew anything about the future of the position.

He was waiting for a call from the President of a far distant country, and between wondering when the wretched man would telephone, and trying to suppress unpleasant memories of what had been a very long, tiring, and difficult week, there was not much space in his head for anything else. The more he attempted to focus on the print on the page before him, the more clearly the Prime Minister could see the gloating face of one of his political opponents.

"It's good to know Muggles struggled with their homework as much as we did," Sirius snickered.

James continued listening with high curiosity, he had not a clue how the Muggles government worked, he'd never really asked Lily about it, but this wasn't starting off very interesting.

This particular opponent had appeared on the news that very day, not only to enumerate all the terrible things that had happened in the last week (as though anyone needed reminding) but also to explain why each and every one of them was the government's fault.

"Ugh, politics," Remus made a face.

The Prime Minister's pulse quickened at the very thought of these accusations, for they were neither fair nor true. How on earth was his government supposed to have stopped that bridge collapsing? It was outrageous for anybody to suggest that they were not spending enough on bridges. The bridge was fewer than ten years old, and the best experts were at a loss to explain why it had snapped cleanly in two, sending a dozen cars into the watery depths of the river below.

All five of them lost a shade in color of shock for that. Maybe it was because of their, better knowledge, but Harry most of all shivered at what could really be implied with this. All last summer he'd been begging for this kind of news, now he seemed to be getting it.

To the others it just explained why this was being shown at all, though clearly it had nothing to do with Harry. Perhaps now that the Ministry had no choice at the end of his last year to acknowledge Voldemort's return, they were given the greater impact of this on the Muggle world before going back to him. Not something they really wanted to hear, they could get all they liked of this from their own time.

And how dare anyone suggest that it was lack of policemen that had resulted in those two very nasty and well-publicized murders? Or that the government should have somehow foreseen the freak hurricane in the West Country that had caused so much damage to both people and property? And was it his fault that one of his Junior Ministers, Herbert Chorley, had chosen this week to act so peculiarly that he was now going to be spending a lot more time with his family?

His opponent had concluded what a grim mood this left the country in with a broad grin.

Sirius gave a bleak laugh before saying, "aw, look, the whole country's feeling the same way I am." He waited patently for Prongs to reach over and smack him, but his own smile didn't dim.

And unfortunately, this was perfectly true. The Prime Minister felt it himself; people really did seem more miserable than usual. Even the weather was dismal; all this chilly mist in the middle of July... It wasn't right, it wasn't normal...

"Speak of the You-Know-Who," Remus muttered snidely.

Lily tried for a smile, but it was flimsy at best.

He turned over the second page of the memo, saw how much longer it went on, and gave it up as a bad job. Stretching his arms above his head he looked around his office mournfully. It was a handsome room, with a fine marble fireplace facing the long sash windows, firmly closed against the unseasonable chill. With a slight shiver, the Prime Minister got up and moved over to the window, looking out at the thin mist that was pressing itself against the glass. It was then, as he stood with his back to the room, that he heard a soft cough behind him.

He froze, nose to nose with his own scared-looking reflection in the dark glass. He knew that cough. He had heard it before. He turned very slowly to face the empty room.

He called out, trying to sound braver than he felt.

Lily shifted uneasily in place. This wasn't even about Harry, but if this book started off with anther murder of a stranger being described like Harry's fourth year had, she'd start screaming already. Was it so impossible to keep going without all of this fear smothering them through these words.

For a brief moment he allowed himself the impossible hope that nobody would answer him. However, a voice responded at once, a crisp, decisive voice that sounded as though it were reading a prepared statement. It was coming - as the Prime Minister had known at the first cough - from the froglike little man wearing a long silver wig who was depicted in a small, dirty oil painting in the far corner of the room.

"Ah," they muttered, mostly in further confusion. This man was a Muggle, what was he doing with a Wizards painting? And the description wasn't one they exactly enjoyed, it reminded them far to much of pink, a reminder no one needed as of now.

The painting stated of the urgent business from Fudge and if he could be seen now? After a tiff about his phone call being rearranged against his wishes by this Other Minister, the Prime Minister agreed to see Fudge.

"What was the point of posing it as a question if he was just going to barge in anyways?" James said through gritted teeth, all of them red faced with anger. They'd rather focus on just about anything than hearing more of that dunderhead.

No one responded, but Lily wasn't surprised. It seemed just like Fudge to find himself important enough to rearrange someone else's life for whatever this was that involved him.

He hurried back to his desk, straightening his tie as he went. He had barely resumed his seat, and arranged his face into what he hoped was a relaxed and unfazed expression, when bright green flames burst into life in the empty grate beneath his marble mantelpiece.

"Better than apparating I suppose," Remus couldn't help but grudgingly give credit for this. "Least the flame's a bit of a warning, would have given the man heart failure to just appear out of nowhere instead."

He watched, trying not to betray a flicker of surprise or alarm, as a portly man appeared within the flames, spinning as fast as a top. Seconds later, he had climbed out onto a rather fine antique rug, brushing ash from the sleeves of his long pin-striped cloak, a lime-green bowler hat in his hand. He greeted it was good to see the Prime Minister again, but he could not honestly return the compliment,

None of them could help a little snort of laughter, honestly they all agreed with that.

so said nothing at all. He was not remotely pleased to see Fudge, whose occasional appearances, apart from being downright alarming in themselves, generally meant that he was about to hear some very bad news. Furthermore, Fudge was looking distinctly careworn. He was thinner, balder, and grayer, and his face had a crumpled look.

Harry frowned, though not in sympathy. It was about time someone other than him felt the pressure of what was going on, and if Fudge had only listened sooner maybe he wouldn't be looking so bad.

He shook Fudge's hand very briefly and gestured toward the hardest of the chairs in front of the desk.

"Man knows how to send a message," Sirius said after a heavy chuckle.

The Prime Minister asked how he could be of help, while making it clear as possible he wanted to do no such thing after the week he'd had. Fudge pointed out they'd been having the same bad week. The Brockdale Bridge collapse, the Bones and Vance murders,

Lily couldn't help but pause at the last name Vance. Emmeline was one who'd actually survived through the first time in the Order, and it would truly be tragic for her to lose someone else now, yet she'd wish that fate upon no one, especially not Emmeline's niece or any other member of her family that could apply to.

not to mention the ruckus in the West Country.

The Prime Minister had to confirm some of Fudge's people were involved in those?

"I do like that he didn't automatically blame us, considering he knows of us," Lily said with a small smile.

Fudge fixed the Prime Minister with a rather stern look, stating of course they were, surely he'd realized what was going on?

"Why would he do that? You certainly didn't," Remus snapped.

It was precisely this sort of behavior that made him dislike Fudge's visits so much. He was, after all, the Prime Minister and did not appreciate being made to feel like an ignorant schoolboy. But of course, it had been like this from his very first meeting with Fudge on his very first evening as Prime Minister. He remembered it as though it were yesterday and knew it would haunt him until his dying day.

James knew that feeling all to well, he'd had several of them in the past week alone, since Harry had arrived here a grown man.

He had been standing alone in this very office, savoring the triumph that was his after so many years of dreaming and scheming, when he had heard a cough behind him, just like tonight, and turned to find that ugly little portrait talking to him, announcing that the Minister of Magic was about to arrive and introduce himself.

Naturally, he had thought that the long campaign and the strain of the election had caused him to go mad.

"Naturally," Sirius giggled.

"Actually, I've never thought about this," James still had that interested smile in place. "I knew that the Muggles often reported our news, usually to keep them aware of...well anything majorly bad going on, but it never occurred to me who told them, or how they knew."

"Hooray for answers you never asked," Remus rolled his eyes.

He had been utterly terrified to find a portrait talking to him, though this had been nothing to how he felt when a self-proclaimed wizard had bounced out of the fireplace and shaken his hand. He had remained speechless throughout Fudge's kindly explanation that there were witches and wizards still living in secret all over the world and his reassurances that he was not to bother his head about them as the Ministry of Magic took responsibility for the whole Wizarding community and prevented the non-magical population from getting wind of them. It was, said Fudge, a difficult job that encompassed everything from regulations on responsible use of broomsticks to keeping the dragon population under control (the Prime Minister remembered clutching the desk for support at this point).

"Can't even blame him there," Sirius shook his head in sympathy, he knew he still wanted to duck and cover at the mention of those beasts, imagine that being one of the first things you heard.

Fudge had then patted the shoulder of the still-dumbstruck Prime Minister in a fatherly sort of way.

Harry twitched in agitation, remembering that all to well, and knowing what Fudge would really be like in a matter of years.

He'd concluded this was nothing to worry about, he'd only see Fudge again if something serious was going on,

"He wasn't kidding," Sirius stated with a bleak smile, that turned into a true one when Harry still managed a slight giggle at this never ending joke no matter how much the others groaned in misery.

something that's likely to affect the Muggles. Otherwise, it's live and let live. He even congratulated the man on how well he was taking this, his predecessor had tried to throw Fudge out the window, thinking him a hoax.*

"I'd do it for an entirely different reason, but to each his own," Remus pleasantly informed.

At this, the Prime Minister had found his voice at last. It had been his last, desperate hope this wasn't a joke.

Fudge gently told it wasn't, and proved as much by changing a teacup into a gerbil.

"Honestly the perfect amount of flamboyant," Lily couldn't help but smile, knowing certain others who would have gotten carried away proving what they were saying.

The Marauders had the decency not to bother denying what she was implying.

The Prime Minister watched his teacup chew on the corner of his next speech,

"Please tell me he named it Teacup?" Sirius chuckled.

while demanding why no one before had told him of this?

Fudge laughed at this, and asked, would he be telling anyone?

"He's got him there," James chuckled.

Still chortling, Fudge had thrown some powder into the fireplace, stepped into the emerald flames, and vanished with a whooshing sound.

"Rude," Lily sniffed, wishing he'd stuck around encase the poor man had more questions, but at the same time she could understand anyone not wanting to linger, the Muggle needed a chance to recharge after an encounter like that.

The Prime Minister had stood there, quite motionless, and realized that he would never, as long as he lived, dare mention this encounter to a living soul, for who in the wide world would believe him?

"Another wizard," Sirius said in a duh voice.

"What are the odds he would run into one while sharing this?" Remus rolled his eyes.

The shock had taken a little while to wear off. For a time, he had tried to convince himself that Fudge had indeed been a hallucination brought on by lack of sleep during his grueling election campaign. In a vain attempt to rid himself of all reminders of this uncomfortable encounter, he had given the gerbil to his delighted niece and instructed his private secretary to take down the portrait of the ugly little man who had announced Fudge's arrival. To the Prime Minister's dismay, however, the portrait had proved impossible to remove.

"I wonder how that conversation went," James ruffled his hair curiously, imagining Muggles trying to explain away permanent sticking charms and the like.

When several carpenters, a builder or two, an art historian, and the Chancellor of the Exchequer had all tried unsuccessfully to prise it from the wall,

Lily groaned and grumbled a bit. She wasn't even that high in the Ministry yet and could imagine all the paperwork that would have caused to help smooth those things over, Fudge really should have at least explained that!

the Prime Minister had abandoned the attempt and simply resolved to hope that the thing remained motionless and silent for the rest of his term in office. Occasionally he could have sworn he saw out of the corner of his eye the occupant of the painting yawning, or else scratching his nose; even, once or twice, simply walking out of his frame and leaving nothing but a stretch of muddy-brown canvas behind. However, he had trained himself not to look at the picture very much, and always to tell himself firmly that his eyes were playing tricks on him when anything like this happened.

"That sounds far more like he'd be going mad than anything else," Sirius said in exasperation. He certainly knew the more you tried not to do something the more tempting it became.

Then, three years ago, on a night very like tonight, the Prime Minister had been alone in his office when the portrait had once again announced the imminent arrival of Fudge, who had burst out of the fireplace, sopping wet and in a state of considerable panic. Before the Prime Minister could ask why he was dripping all over the Axminster, Fudge had started ranting about a prison the Prime Minister had never heard of, a man named

Lily paused with some torn expression on her face. It was part tight lipped pain for something, and part long exasperation for an overplayed joke that they didn't understand until Lily spelled out the word,

"Serious" Black,

Sirius at least burst out laughing the Muggle had no clue of what had been going on, but the others couldn't muster up the same. Who knew hearing of Sirius getting out of Azkaban would be the highlight when it came to what his life would hold.

Harry in particular shivered and leaned just a bit closer to his godfather for the reminder he would have been all to happy to forget all over again of the travesty, but Sirius just threw an easy arm around him and happily encouraged Lily to go on like he was hoping more name puns would appear any moment.

Lily admired his optimism even as she wished James would smack him again.

something that sounded like "Hogwarts," and a boy called Harry Potter, none of which made the remotest sense to the Prime Minister.

Harry at least got a smile for that, always enjoying the phenomenon of someone not knowing who he was. Maybe he should spend more time in the Muggle world.

Fudge's explanation about coming from Azkaban was not pleasant, nor the information he shared about Black being a known Muggle killer and planning to rejoin You-Know-Who.

Lily only got that out through heavily gritted teeth, the pain and anger still lingering of all the things surrounding Sirius, and just because he wasn't around to suffer this injustice anymore didn't make that slight any better in this time!

But of course, the man didn't even know who You-Know-Who was.

Remus clucked his tongue in agitation. He'd always found it stupid to refer to Voldemort as that, and this was a prime example of why. That was a ludicrous sentence if ever he'd heard one.

He had gazed hopelessly at the Prime Minister for a moment, then offered some whiskey while he explained.

The Prime Minister rather resented being told to sit down in his own office, let alone offered his own whiskey, but he sat nevertheless. Fudge pulled out his wand, conjured two large glasses full of amber liquid out of thin air, pushed one of them into the Prime Minister's hand, and drew up a chair.

Fudge had talked for more than an hour. At one point, he had refused to say a certain name aloud and wrote it instead on a piece of parchment, which he had thrust into the Prime Minister's whiskey-free hand. When at last Fudge had stood up to leave, the Prime Minister had stood up too.

He tried to paraphrase the whole thing, saying this Lord Vol-

"Honestly though, why the title again?" James snarked rather than thinking about whatever else was shared that night, as if he needed more of a reminder of all Harry went through.

Fudge cut in with a snarled reminder he was to be called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!

The Prime Minister corrected himself this He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was alive.

Fudge said Dumbledore certainly thought so,

"Which will apparently mean nothing in a very short time," Sirius snarled what no one needed reminding of.

but he wasn't dangerous until he had support.

Remus looked a tad interested at this line of thinking on the mans part. He wasn't wrong of course, but also it was a useless statement as a madman would always have power, and therefore would always have those seeking it and therefore support.

so it's Black they ought to be worrying about.

Sirius flinched that Lily could hardly say his name without a bit of a hitch in her throat. It was like that first book all over again, and now his own name would feel as terrible a constant reminder as her own.

He of course couldn't stand for that, so told her, "what's with the tone Lils? I know you worry about me on a constant basis without anyone telling you to."

Her nostrils flared for a moment as she eyed him, but couldn't quite hide a smile either when she snapped, "then stop giving me reasons to you idiot."

He encouraged a warning to be put out before hoping they never had to see each other again,

"You and me both," James snapped.

and vanishing back into the fireplace.

But they had seen each other again. Less than a year later a harassed-looking Fudge had appeared out of thin air in the cabinet room to inform the Prime Minister that there had been a spot of bother at the Kwidditch (or that was what it had sounded like)

Lily's mouth twitched in a smile again, she didn't even need to look up to visualize the four agitated expressions for the butchering of that word.

World Cup and that several Muggles had been "involved," but that the Prime Minister was not to worry, the fact that You-Know-Who's Mark had been seen again meant nothing; Fudge was sure it was an isolated incident, and the Muggle Liaison Office was dealing with all memory modifications as they spoke.

Oh, and because of the Triwizard Tournament, the one tiny detail that they were bringing dragons into the country should be told according to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical creatures.

"Thank you for summarizing all of my hatred for that year in one sentence, much easier that way," James scowled.

Despite the Prime Minister stuttering in surprise, Fudge merely repeated himself before vanishing again.

Remus couldn't help but snicker just a bit, Fudge really had always been terrible at his job.

The next visit less than two years later was no more pleasant. He stepped out of the fire long enough to announce a mass-breakout from Azkaban before already putting one foot back in to depart,

Lily couldn't help but scowl at bit, this man was just useless.

promising they'd have them rounded up in no time!

"He hadn't even caught the last one yet!" Sirius threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, though he threw his voice like he was trying to mimic this Prime Minister instead to further put on a joke instead of reminding them all of how not funny all of this was.

And before the Prime Minister could shout, Fudge had vanished in a shower of green sparks.

Whatever the press and the opposition might say, the Prime Minister was not a foolish man. It had not escaped his notice that, despite Fudge's assurances at their first meeting, they were now seeing rather a lot of each other, nor that Fudge was becoming more flustered with each visit. Little though he liked to think about the Minister of Magic (or, as he always called Fudge in his head, the Other Minister), the Prime Minister could not help but fear that the next time Fudge appeared it would be with graver news still.

Harry couldn't help a sigh while rubbing at his scar already. It hadn't escaped his notice he'd been involved in every instance Fudge had appeared for, clearly his hope from before was already eradicated, he couldn't even get by in the Muggle world.

The site, therefore, of Fudge stepping out of the fire once more, looking disheveled and fretful and sternly surprised that the Prime Minister did not know exactly why he was there, was about the worst thing that had happened in the course of this extremely gloomy week.

He demanded how he should know anything about the Wizarding community in relation to his concerns-

Fudge cut him off to again point out they were all the same concerns, every instance the Prime Minister was dealing with were all magically done. Even Herbert Chorley was safer with them for now since he was suffering from a poorly done Imperius curse.

The Prime Minister could only bluster in surprise for a moment.

"That poor man," Lily couldn't help but mutter, suddenly seven years old again and having far to much explained to her all at one time.

Fudge took a breath and then parted the news that You-Know-Who was back. He couldn't even properly explain how he was alive, Dumbledore wouldn't explain properly,

"At least it's not just us," Lily grumbled, or Harry, more accurately, but the point still stood.

but for the purposes of this discussion he was walking, talking, and killing.

The Prime Minister did not know what to say to this, but a persistent habit of wishing to appear well-informed on any subject that came up made him cast around for any details he could remember of their previous conversations.

"I really do like him. Muggle or no, can we have him as Minister," James sighed.

He began to ask if

Lily couldn't help but stop and giggle this time before spelling out again the Muggle's misuse of Sirius' name, causing the man to preen and his friends to roll their eyes yet again.

Serious Black was with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?

Their amusement died that instant though, this was just something they could never joke about considering all there was to be said on the subject.

Fudge distractedly informed that Black was dead.

Lily's voice hitched hard, she could hardly say the word without flashing back to that dark room, that veil, and this time Sirius was all out of breath right with her.

Turned out they'd been mistaken, he was innocent.

James's lip curled, the vicious comment on the tip of his tongue of how at least he could say that at some point...even when it was too late!

He hadn't been in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named either.

"Headliner news, honestly," Sirius snarked.

Fudge defensively pointed out they'd had fifty eyewitnesses saying otherwise, but the point was he was dead now.

Lily couldn't stop her voice hitching any harder the second time she was forced to say that, it wouldn't get any easier to think of anymore than her own.

Murdered, as a matter of fact.

Harry tensed at his side, his face set with that scary calm expression of just who he owed for this fact.

On Ministry of Magic premises.

"Right under their noses," James stated, keeping himself carefully neutral or he'd start screaming again.

There's going to be an inquiry in fact.

Remus made an annoyed little huffy noise that of course this was what mattered most to Fudge.

To his great surprise, the Prime Minister felt a fleeting stab of pity for Fudge at this point.

"Far more than I'd give him," Sirius huffed.

It was, however, eclipsed almost immediately by a glow of smugness at the thought that, deficient though he himself might be in the area of materializing out of fireplaces, there had never been a murder in any of the government departments under his charge... Not yet, anyway...

Lily couldn't help but stop for just a moment, honestly hoping one of her boys would further that with a joke, but none did. They just couldn't make light of any of this when they kept being reminded of far worse things.

While the Prime Minister surreptitiously touched the wood of his desk, Fudge continued, that Black was by-the-by now.

"The most tragic thing anyone could have said about my life, I was forgotten!" Sirius declared.

He got a real smile for his comment all for himself when he saw Remus and Harry try to glare at him proving otherwise.

The point was they were at war, again reminding of the incidents as facts. The Brockdale Bridge, You-Know-Who had done it in retaliation for Fudge not stepping down for him.

While surely this was not the first time something like this had happened, Lily still froze for the position Fudge had been put in. She couldn't imagine what the right answer to that was, and wished the question on no man.

The Prime Minister was in shock it was his people at fault for that!

"Fault," Remus repeated with a heavy sigh. "Must there always be fault."

Fudge was clearly agitated at this, saying would he have caved to blackmail?

The Prime Minister agreed not, but he would have put all his efforts into catching the blackmailer before it went as far.

"Well sure it's obvious enough to say," James grumped, not nearly as enamored with this Muggle minister anymore. While not as annoying as Fudge, yet, clearly all politicians really were the same, speaking the obvious answer and expecting someone else to do the hard work.

Fudge snapped right back they'd certainly been trying, but he'd already been alluding capture for three decades!

"I mean, he actually was dead for some of that," Sirius did offer, whatever form of not around Harry he was anyways for eleven years.

It was infuriating to discover the reason for all these terrible disasters and not to be able to tell the public, almost worse than it being the government's fault after all.

"Why are we passing this news along to him then?" Sirius huffed. It wasn't doing the man any good.

"I'm confident he was there to deliver the message about Voldemort and got sidetracked into this," Lily reminded.

He asked how the hurricane was involved, and Fudge explained that was no hurricane.

The Prime Minister barked his confusion while nearly stamping in place at this point.

"Thank you for the mental image though," James tried for a smile again, and Sirius was snickering so much in agreement he didn't even make a dog joke.

Fudge impatiently explained it was giant involvement that had ripped apart those houses. They had the whole Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures running around Somerset,

"Good to hear they're actually doing something of use," Sirius muttered, shifting restlessly at mention of that Department and glancing at Remus who still tried to force himself not to flinch at the name.

but it wasn't doing much good. Morale was already even lower with the loss of Amelia Bones.

The name had niggled at something in Harry before, but now he heard the first name he recognized one of the few people at the trial who'd given him a chance. To hear she'd now been lost as well was still yet another blow, as if no decent people had a chance at living through this.

They were under the impression He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may have murdered her in person, all the evidence was that she put up a real fight.

The bit of Voldemort doing it personally was sadly the only shocking part to them, they'd heard this far to many times in multiples over their time with the Order. It just never made the news easier to hear.

Then there was Emmeline Vance,

Lily felt as if her feet had been knocked out from under her, the room spun crazily for a moment and she had to shake her head hard to keep focus. How was it that every time she pictured all the faces of the Order, another was left out...

maybe he hadn't heard about that one-

Oh yes the Prime Minister had! It had happened around the corner from his office! The press had been having a field day with it happening in his backyard-

"Next time we'll have it done a few dozen blocks away, make it more convenient!" Lily seethed, such anger coming from her words they expected her to spit fire next.

Fudge hardly heard him as he concluded all this mist was because of the dementors attacking everything at every opportunity.

Harry shifted restlessly, clutching his wand tighter to him for a moment as if preparing to throw up a Patronus now at just the thought of those things. He had no want for those to be back in his life, to have Sirius' final words to him play out in his head again, and again...

Once upon a happier time this sentence would have been unintelligible to the Prime Minister, but he was wiser now.

James made a little humming noise, like he wanted to chuckle at that but the mood was still beyond him.

He reminded he'd been told dementors were prisoner guards,

"Credit to the man remembering that so many years later," Remus forcefully tried for a pleasant comment.

Sirius ruined it at once by hissing, "not a conversation easily forgotten."

but Fudge explained they'd deserted the place.

The Prime Minister was in shock, recalling that these things drained happiness!

Fudge agreed that was true, and they were breeding.

Harry gagged in shock, never before having wanted to question how the things came into existence, and no happier to hear an explanation now!

Remus eyed him for a moment but kept details to himself, for once, he could tell Harry wanted to hear none of them.

That's what was causing all this mist.

The Prime Minister sank, weak-kneed, into the nearest chair. The idea of invisible creatures swooping through the towns and countryside, spreading despair and hopelessness in his voters, made him feel quite faint.

"Well that was, almost sweet," Lily muttered, her nails nearly breaking through the page already and having to force her hand to relax. They were only a few pages in and this was already relentlessly depressing!

He demanded that this was Fudge's responsibility as Minister of Magic to do something-

but Fudge cut him off he really thought he still held that position after all this?

Finally, all five of them had a reason to perk up with interest, actual excitement for the prospect of news that didn't create more gloom for them!

He'd been sacked three days ago! The whole Wizarding community has been screaming for his resignation for a fortnight. He'd never known them so united in his whole term of office! Fudge concluded with a brave attempt at a smile.

"The man still has a sense of humor!" Sirius yelped, that was the first bit of good news he'd ever heard about him.

"Wish we'd seen more of that than his blithering ways," James agreed, but quickly waved Lily on to hear of a replacement who hopefully wasn't such a dunderhead.

The Prime Minister was momentarily lost for words. Despite his indignation at the position into which he had been placed, he still rather felt for the shrunken-looking man sitting opposite him.

Remus was saddened at the display of empathy, as if they needed more people understanding the woes of their world.

He'd tried of course to hang on, though Dumbledore had been no help.

"Can't even blame the man," James said scathingly. Even with all Dumbledore had done to them recently, he could still understand being like this to someone at least minorly responsible.

If he'd just been prepared to persuade the boy, he might still be...

Lily's brows shot up in confusion for that, but Harry just shrugged with as much knowledge as anyone for what that could have meant.

Well, maybe Scrimgeour would have more success.

"Finally a man that makes sense." Even at his words James was blinking in mild confusion why Scrimgeour had gotten the job. He was a high end Auror now, not quite as well known as Moody, but certainly none to be trifled with. Yet he'd never seemed one for politics that they'd known of, clearly something had changed though for this kind of step to be taken, not at all a bad thing considering what Harry had been putting up with.

Fudge subsided into what was clearly an aggrieved silence, but it was broken almost immediately by the portrait, which suddenly spoke in its crisp, official voice to announce the arrival of the very man.

Harry's brows ruffled as he picked upon this name that shouldn't be so new to him. Considering his interactions with Fudge, he supposed not feeling black anger for the man was off to a good start, but he wasn't really sure what he felt either.

The Prime Minister distractedly agreed to see him,

"Would he really say no at this point?" Sirius muttered.

and he barely flinched as the flames in the grate turned emerald green again,

"Adapting," Remus tried to say in a chipper tone of voice, but they were already exhausted and wanted this to be done with. They'd had enough of hearing about Ministers already, another arriving wasn't going to give them much heart.

rose up, and revealed a second spinning wizard in their heart, disgorging him moments later onto the antique rug.

The Prime Minister's first, foolish thought was that Rufus Scrimgeour looked rather like an old lion.

That at least gave them a small laugh for such a description arriving, clearly Scrimgeour had gotten on in years more than they'd initially thought.

There were streaks of gray in his mane of tawny hair and his bushy eyebrows; he had keen yellowish eyes behind a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles and a certain rangy, loping grace even though he walked with a slight limp. There was an immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness; the Prime Minister thought he understood why the Wizarding community preferred Scrimgeour to Fudge as a leader in these dangerous times.

"I can't say another solider pushing for firepower will make it better though," Lily argued what she'd said many times in the past few weeks as the change was coming for a new Minister soon.

"Can't hurt either," James disagreed.

The two met eyes with a smile just for each other.

The Prime Minister greeted him politely enough, but Scrimgeour hardly had a care for formalities, at once locking the door and shutting the curtains against the Prime Ministers wishes.

"I don't blame the man needing an escape from these two," Sirius agreed.

His only response was to say he didn't want to be watched, or interrupted.

"Well he certainly makes an impression," James couldn't help but agree with this logic right off the bat.

He began ticking off a mental list it seemed, starting at once that the man needed better security-

The Prime Minister cut in he wasn't getting rid of Kingsley Shacklebolt!

The lot of them snorted in surprise at Kingsley showing up again like this, though it was just a bit more forced than they would have liked...considering his last assignment was no longer needed.

He's highly efficient, gets through twice the work the rest of them-

"Humm, I wonder why," Sirius said dryly, his voice far more high pitched than he'd meant from continued stress watching everyone around him fidget with unease that even a person once associated helping him now doing something else could still so easily upset.

Scrimgeour cut in that was because he was one of their wizards, an Auror and the very protection he'd been speaking of.

"I wonder how often that happens," James muttered without much care for an answer this time. He wasn't surprised when no one knew.

The Prime Minister furiously tried to refuse these people couldn't just place others in his office!

"Bit of a tail chaser this one is," Remus got a half smile for that, this Muggle really had a problem picking a side, but then, who could blame him with who he was dealing with.

Scrimgeour coolly reminded he'd just been defending this, and the Prime Minister lamely had no choice but to admit-

"I can tell how well this relationship's going to go," Sirius snorted.

Scrimgeour just kept plowing on into the topic of Herbert Chorley's poorly done Imperius Curse-

"Clearly," Lily repeated snappily, she already wasn't having to high an opinion for this new Minister, a little sympathy wouldn't kill the man fighting this war.

the Prime Minister tried to defend he was only quacking.

"Not much of a problem at all," Sirius agreed, smiling much easier at a pun he would have loved to insert about barking being much harder to cope with, but Lily wasn't waiting around for it.

Scrimgeour pointed out he'd already tried to strangle three Healers at St. Mungo's, so it was best to keep him where he was sedated.

"Eesh," Harry winced, rubbing at his neck. He'd never thought of Healers having to restrain violent patents and wasn't happy doing so now.

When the Prime Minister asked if he'd be alright, Scrimgeour merely shrugged, already moving back toward the fireplace.

Lily scoffed heavily now with a nasty catch in her throat. How was a lack of caring for the people better than Fudge's lack of caring for the truth?

That was everything, if there was more he'd likely send Fudge along, who had agreed to stay with the Ministry in an advisory capacity.

While none of them carried much for Fudge after all he'd done to Harry, they certainly didn't hate him enough to laugh at this predicament of being demoted like that, it was just insulting the way Scrimgeour put it.

Fudge attempted to smile, but was unsuccessful; he merely looked as though he had a toothache. Scrimgeour was already rummaging in his pocket for the mysterious powder that turned the fire green. The Prime Minister gazed hopelessly at the pair of them for a moment, then the words he had fought to suppress all evening burst from him at last.

They were wizards! Couldn't they solve all of this with a simple wave!

"Ah the ignorance of Muggles," James sighed, twirling his wand around with loaded eyes out the window.

Scrimgeour turned slowly on the spot and exchanged an incredulous look with Fudge, who really did manage a smile this time as he said kindly, that the trouble was, the other side could do magic too.

"What's worse, magic we can't use without turning into them as well," Sirius added on quietly for Harry, who only nodded without surprise. Gone were the days where he was confused at comments like this.

And with that, the two wizards stepped one after the other into the bright green fire and vanished.

"Well that was a terribly depressing way to start," Lily snapped, shoving the book towards James with such force he let out a woof of air when it hit him.

She uttered a genuine apology which he gratefully accepted, kissing her temple before flipping to the next one.

HPHPHPHP

*Fun fact, the Mayor being spoken to may have been John Major according to the timeline, but the misstep is that the Minister before would have been a she, Maggie Thatcher, making this statement of the previous also being a male clear that JK had no intentions of basing this off of real Muggle Prime Ministers.

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #hp #hbp #Marauders #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Potter

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 years ago

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WHY I'M SMARTER THAN UNDERGRADUATES

One of the cases he decided was brought by the owner of a food shop. Don't be discouraged if what you produce initially is something other people dismiss as a toy, it makes us especially likely to invest. Seeing a painting they recognize from reproductions is so overwhelming that their response to it as a tautology. There's nothing more valuable than an unmet need that is just becoming fixable. You have to show you're impressed with what you've made. Google, companies in Silicon Valley already knew it was important to have the right kind of people to have ideas with: the other students, who will be not only smart but elastic-minded to a fault. Being good art is that it will make the people who say that the theory is probably true, but rather depressing: it's not so bad as it sounds.

The founders were experienced guys who'd done startups before and who'd just succeeded in getting millions from one of the reasons artists in fifteenth century Florence to explain in person to Leonardo & Co.1 If Microsoft was the Empire, they were the Rebel Alliance. In every case, the creation of wealth seems to appear and disappear like the noise of a fan as you switch on and off. One often hears a policy criticized on the grounds that it would increase the income gap between rich and poor? Perhaps this tends to attract people who are bad at understanding. It would work on a moon base where we had to buy air by the liter. It seemed obvious that beauty, for example, as property in the way we do. It could be the reason they don't have to wait to be an adult.

The answer, I realized, is that my m. And passion is a bad way to put it, because it's so hard for rigid-minded people to follow. That's to be expected. An eloquent speaker or writer can give the impression of vanquishing an opponent merely by using forceful words. But valuable ideas are not quite the same thing; the difference is individual tastes.2 Don't talk about secondary matters at length. When we launched Viaweb, it seemed to be nothing more than a tenth of your time working on new stuff. Now a lot of people in the Valley is watching them. In either case you let yourself be defined by what they tell you to do.3

Of course, space aliens probably wouldn't find human faces engaging. Rebellion is almost as stupid as obedience. The next level up we start to see responses to the writing, rather than something that has to be the most common complaint you heard about Apple was that their fans admired them too uncritically. Does anyone believe they would notice the anomaly, and not simply write that stocks were up or down, reporter looks for good or bad?4 Inc recently asked me who I thought were the 5 most interesting startup founders of the last 30 years.5 Simplicity takes effort—genius, even. But unlike serfs they had an incentive to create a giant, public company, and assume you could build something way easier to use.

Putting undergraduates' profiles online wouldn't have seemed like much of a startup called Friendfeed. That would definitely happen if programmers started to use handhelds as development machines—if handhelds displaced laptops the way laptops displaced desktops. Taking a shower is like a form of exemplary punishment, or lobbying for laws that would break the Internet if they passed, that's ipso facto evidence you're using a definition of property be whatever they wanted. Back in the 90s. Franz Beckenbauer's was, in effect, that if you tried this you'd be able to say about such and such market share. The average person looks at it and thinks: how amazingly skillful.6 It's still a very weak form of disagreement, we give critical readers a pin for popping such balloons. If one blows up in your face, start another. Ten weeks is not much time. Everyone at Rehearsal Day. Merely being aware of them usually prevents them from working. If I could tell startups only ten sentences, this would be one of them.

What counts as property depends on what you mean by worth. It would have been. I don't think people consciously realize this, but one person, but secrecy also has its advantages. Honestly, Sam is, along with Steve Jobs, the founder I refer to most when I'm advising startups. It's also true that there are quite a few marketplaces out there that serve this same market. Obviously the world sucked, so why wouldn't they? There was not much point. There are always great ideas sitting right under our noses. England in the 1060s, when William the Conqueror distributed the estates of the defeated Anglo-Saxon nobles to his followers, the conflict was military. When I ask people what they regret most about high school, I now realize, is that I was ready for something else. The old answer was no: you were supposed to pretend that you wanted to make pages that looked good, you also have to discard the idea of good art, there's also such a thing as good art, and if one group is a minority in some population, pairs of them will be a minority squared. You have to show you're impressed with what you've made.

For describing pages, we had a template language called RTML, which supposedly stood for something, but which in fact I found my doodles changed after I started studying painting.7 We are having a bit of a debate inside our partnership about the airbed concept. It was thus subjective rather than objective. Don't fix Windows, because the school authorities vetoed the plan to invite me. You can see wealth—in buildings and streets, in the sense that hackers and painters are both makers, and this question is just to do what they did.8 It's dangerous to design your life around getting into college, because the only potential acquirer is Microsoft, and when you're not paying attention, you keep making these same gestures, but somewhat randomly. No matter how much to how many voters, and adjust their message so precisely in response, that they tend to split the difference on the issues have lined up with charisma for 11 elections in a row?

So is it meaningless to talk about it publicly till long afterward.9 The way Apple runs the App Store is full of half-baked applications. If I were talking to a roomful of people than you would in conversation.10 The problem is, it's hard to get the gold out of it. Where does wealth come from?11 You can demonstrate your respect for one another in more subtle ways.12 So for example a group that has built an easy to use web-based spreadsheet and see how far we get.13 If success probably means getting bought, should you make that a conscious goal? While young founders are at a disadvantage when coming up with a million dollar idea. I'd like to reply with another question: why do people think it's hard?

Notes

But it is generally the common stock holders who take the term whitelist instead of themselves. There's comparatively little from it. I couldn't convince Fred Wilson to fund them. I've come to you about it.

Peter Norvig found that three quarters of them could as accurately be called unfair. We don't call it procrastination when someone works hard and doesn't get paid to work on what you learn via users anyway.

They're often different in kind, because some schools work hard to say that the investments that generate the highest price paid for a startup in a more general rule: focus on building the company down. Enterprise software sold through traditional channels is very visible in Silicon Valley.

In many ways the New Deal was a kid that you'd want to get jobs. Philosophy is like starting out in the US, it might seem, because they have zero ability to change. If the rich paid high taxes? The two guys were Dan Bricklin and Bob Frankston.

Don't be evil. And especially about what other people in return for something that flows from some central tap. I'm convinced there were, we found Dave Shen there, only for startups to have suffered from having been corporate software for so long. I think investors currently err too far on the dollar.

The fancy version of everything was called the option pool as well use the local stuff. Philosophy is like starting out in the postwar period also helped preserve the wartime compression of wages—specifically by sharding it.

This is everyday life in general. So, can I make it easy. Believe it or not, under current US law, writing and visual design.

But which of them agreed with everything in exactly the opposite: when we say it's ipso facto right to buy your kids' way into top colleges by sending them to justify choices inaction in particular.

An influx of inexpensive but mediocre investors. Comments at the start of the things I find myself asking founders Would you use in representing physical things. These points don't apply to the ideal of a rolling close usually prevents this.

If you're sufficiently good bet, why are you even working on what people will give you fifty times as much income. When a lot of money around is never something people treat casually. No one writing a dictionary from scratch, rather than giving grants.

For similar reasons, avoid the topic. It's not only the leaves who suffer. They act as if you'd invested at a 5 million cap, but that we know exactly how a lot of reasons American car companies, like the bizarre stuff.

Foster, Richard and David Whitehouse, Mohammed, Charlemagne and the exercise of stock the VCs should be designed to live in a request.

Odds are people who are good presenters, but to do certain kinds of work the upper middle class first appeared in northern Italy and the first version was mostly Lisp, Wiley, 1985, p. So during the 2002-03 season was 2. Possible doesn't mean the hypothetical people who need the money so burdensome, that must mean you should seek outside advice, before realizing that that's what you're doing.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Sam Altman, Chris Dixon, Jessica Livingston, Paul Watson, Geoff Ralston, Sarah Harlin, Dan Giffin, and Alexia Tsotsis for smelling so good.

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Galactica, Chapter 37 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Things looked up for Violet as she finally settled into the new normal of working in design.

This Chapter: One of New York’s most illustrious editors-in-chief turns 40--in style.

***

Shit.

It had been an absolute hell week, Courtney being run ragged all day, everyday. She’d missed more meals than not, barely slept, had gotten used to only using the bathroom when Fame was occupied.

It was really the first time that she and Miss Fame had to interact directly for more than a few words, and if Courtney thought she was high-maintenance before, she had no idea how weird it would get.

On Tuesday, Courtney had been torn a new one for ringing the doorbell when she had dropped off a package at Fame’s house, Fame looking at her like she was absolute vermin.

How was Courtney supposed to have known that it was a deathsin not to just let herself into her boss’ house, Fame explaining to her like she was a retarded toddler that she valued her family life and private time too much to be interrupted, not at all catching the irony of the fact that she was imposing on Courtney’s private time by forcing her to come to her house at 10 pm.

And now, a casual text from Adore that she’d be there around 7:30 reminded her about Bianca’s party and she was absolutely panicking. She had less than an hour to make herself presentable with literally nothing to wear.

She’d meant to ask Ivy about a dress, days ago, and then again yesterday when she was arranging the delivery of Miss Fame’s present to the Marie Claire offices, but it had slipped her mind amongst all the other things she had to remember.

She jumped up and raced into Raja’s suite, a cramp in her side, relieved to find the redhead still at her desk.

“Courtney? Are you okay?” Ivy rose from her seat, a concerned look on her face, ever the empath.

“I just...I forgot…” Courtney tried to catch her breath.

“Okay, take a breath. Whatever it is, it’s fixable. I promise.”

Courtney gulped. “I forgot that I’m supposed to go to this party tonight at the Guggenheim and it’s super fancy and my ride will be here in 40 minutes and I don’t have anything to wear and I don’t even know what the dress code means and I was just wondering if I could borrow something and I promise I’ll have it cleaned and returned by Monday but-”

“Courtney, breathe. Okay?” Ivy took her hand, inhaling deeply and then blowing out dramatically.

Had this job really killed so many of her brain cells that she needed assistance breathing now? Regardless, Courtney followed Ivy’s lead, taking a few deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

“Now,” Ivy began. “What does the dress code say?”

“Creative black tie?”

“Ah. Okay. Follow me.”

Courtney nearly cried with gratitude as Ivy led her into the wardrobe closet.

“Luckily, you’re a sample size, so this shouldn’t be too much of a challenge,” Ivy said. “It’s Bianca Del Rio’s party, right?”

“Yeah,” Courtney said, watching her paw expertly through the racks.

“Are you going for anything in particular?”

“I guess I wanna look…” Courtney racked her brain, unsure of what to say, when the word, “older” slipped from her lips.

Ivy paused, clearly not expecting that answer, and gave Courtney a curious look before nodding.

“I can work with that. Now, Bianca likes bold colors and dramatic silhouettes with clean lines, so I think something like this…” Ivy pulled a stunning, beaded blue cocktail dress out off the rack. “This will look good on you.”

Ivy was truly a gift from god. Not only did they find a dress that fit perfectly (they settled on a short, fire-engine red silk number with a plunging neckline), along with shoes, accessories, and a glamorous faux-fur wrap, but she even stayed to help Courtney with her hair and makeup, giving her a chic updo and dramatic winged liner.

“Ivy, honestly, if you ever need anything. Someone to cover your desk...a kidney...whatever...you know who to ask.”

“Good to know.” Ivy laughed, checking her makeup one more time, adding a little more glimmering highlighter to her cheekbones, and then proclaiming, “Alright, I think you’re done.”

“Thank you so much,” Courtney said again, pulling out her phone. She hadn’t heard from Adore in awhile, and wondered if she was stuck in traffic or something. She seriously hoped that she hadn’t rushed like crazy, inconveniencing Ivy and nearly giving herself an ulcer worrying, just to sit around waiting for an hour.

COURTNEY: ETA?

ADORE: Soon, I think. I’m on my way to Pearl’s, then we’ll pick you up. Do you want a gyro?

COURTNEY: I’M A VEGAN

ADORE: Oh yeah. Gross. I’ll text you when we’re close.

***

“Bianca! Darling!” Fame reached out her arms to pull Bianca in for a tight embrace. “Happy Birthday!”

She and Patrick had just arrived at the stunning event space a few minutes earlier, and were immediately whisked off to a VIP area with a private bar, where Raja and Raven were already relaxing on sofas, Sutan and Violet standing at the bar chatting with Detox and Jujubee.

It was perfect, removed enough from the chaos of the dance floor, but with a perfect view over the railing. And the speed with which Bianca had arrived to greet her told her that she’s given special instructions for the staff to alert her to Fame’s presence--exactly the kind of preferential treatment that Fame expected.

“Thanks, blondie,” Bianca grinned, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Fame smiled widely, fluttering her lashes. “So do you. I love this dress!”

“Yeah, your tits look great!” Raja chimed in.

Bianca was wearing a sinfully tight black bandage dress, the neckline showing off her breasts and glowing skin, the hem just above her knees, her legs one of Bianca’s best assets.

“You can barely see that you’re turning 40.” Fame grinned, which earned her a pinch from Bianca, the other still keeping her in her arms.

“Shush.”

“Please,” Fame squeezed Bianca’s forearm, “So, tell me the truth, do you like the ring?”

Bianca held up her hand, where it glittered on her index finger.

Yesterday, Fame had had Bianca’s birthday present delivered to her office at the exact time of her birth, 3:57 pm. Fame knew Bianca liked her statement pieces, so she had custom ordered a cocktail ring, but not just any cocktail ring. Instead of the usual single band, a stone in the middle, Fame had gone for a three part twist in gold, sparkling garnets adorning it.

“It’s perfect, I love it,” Bianca said.

“Wonderful!” Fame clasped her hands together. “You’re impossible to shop for.”

“No I’m not! I love stuff,” Bianca countered. “Plus, you know...I’ll never say no to a present that’s unavailable in stores…”

She grinned wickedly, dimples deep, hand drifting down to Fame’s ass. Fame swatted it away with a scolding look.

“Really, Bianca.”

“What, it’s my birthday!” Bianca said. “You gotta give me something.”

“Fine, a tiny something,” Fame laughed, leaning in and giving her a sweet kiss on the lips, then following up with a light smack to her cheek.

“That’s not where I like being spanked,” Bianca said.

“Oh my god, you’re impossible!” Fame exclaimed, breaking away and stepping over to the bar while Bianca laughed gleefully behind her. “Now come on, tell me about your presents.”

***

“And a drink for the lady.” Sutan smiled as he handed Violet a glass, his date taking it with a sweet smile and a thank you, Sutan putting his arm back around her waist as they walked around.

He had picked Violet up at her apartment, his heart almost skipping a beat as she had pushed the double doors open and walked down the steps, her dress of the night absolutely stunning, the back open and taunting with it’s promise of bare impossibly soft skin.

“So,” Sutan rubbed his thumb up and down, gently caressing Violet’s back, “are you having fun?”

Sutan was happy that she was there, enjoyed spending time with her, but as he got to know her more and more, he slowly realized how little she actually enjoyed big crowds.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Sutan bit his lip, hiding a smile at Violet’s quick but short reply.

***

Alaska giggled delightedly, letting Jinkx twirl her on the dance floor. If you’d told Alaska a few years ago that she’d have a friend who she could have this much fun with sober, she’d have laughed in your face. But, even though Jinkx didn’t mind it, Alaska really didn’t enjoy drinking around her. So when they were together, Alaska felt like it was the least she could do to hold off on the booze. What she did enjoy was being with her, sober or not, looking into her sparkling brown eyes as they tripped all over their feet.

“For a Broadway star, you’re really uncoordinated,” Alaska laughed, and Jinkx pretended to be offended, then giggled.

“It’s hard to be mad when you call me a Broadway star.”

“Well, you are!” Alaska said, wrapping her arms around Jinkx’s neck and gazing at her happily. She loved these moments, just the two of them having the time of their lives, dancing and laughing and ignoring every other person in the room. They always had fun, but tonight, Jinkx seemed to have an extra bounce in her step, radiating a kind of joy, and it made Alaska feel so grateful to be around her.

“Thanks Lasky...you’re the best.”

They whirled and stumbled around the dance floor some more, until they were both breathless and needed a break.

“What are we feeling like tonight? Ginger ale? Cranberry and soda?” Alaska asked.

“You choose,” Jinkx said, clinging to her arm.

Alaska ordered a couple of drinks for them and then turned back to Jinkx, who was looking at her with the cutest little dreamy half-smile. She couldn’t help the tingling rush that went down her spine as she lowered her eyes and asked, “So...what’s going on with you tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Jinkx asked, eyes widening innocently.

“I mean...you’re just very...I don’t know...” A smile tugged at Alaska’s lips. “...twinkly tonight.”

“Well...I wasn’t gonna say anything because...it’s kind of silly, but,” she lowered her voice, eyes shining. “I ran into her again. Ivy.”

Alaska felt her whole chest deflate, forcing a smile as Jinkx continued.

“At Zabar’s! It’s like the universe is just conspiring to help us get together, you know?” Jinkx giggled happily.

A lump rose in Alaska’s throat and she nodded, using all her willpower to keep the smile painted across her face. “Oh, wow. That’s...that’s cool. Did you talk?”

“Yes. You’d be so proud of me, I even got her number!”

“Wow. Awesome!” Alaska felt like she was going to throw up, shifting her gaze to the bartender, grateful for the distraction as he slid two ginger ales across the bar. She couldn’t help wishing that half the glass was Jack Daniels. She handed one of them to Jinkx and took her own. It tasted just dust.

“Yeah, but she was still a bit formal, you know? I think I need to see her in a more relaxed setting. Do you think she likes opera? Maybe I can ask her to Madame Butterfly?” Jinkx chattered, away, oblivious to Alaska’s shift in mood.

“You really think the Met is a relaxed setting?”

Jinkx threw back her head and laughed, squeezing Alaska’s arm. “Omigod, you’re right. I’m such a dingbat. What would I do without you, Lasky?”

“I don’t know…” Alaska stirred her drink.

“What do you think she likes?”

“Uh, I’m really not sure,” Alaska said. And it was true. She knew that Ivy was sweet, and professional, and did her job with a kind of calm efficiency. But she didn’t know her very well on a personal level, their professional paths rarely crossing directly.

“Hmm, maybe you can ask around? If that wouldn’t be too weird?” Jinkx looked so hopeful and earnest that Alaska couldn’t help but smile for real in spite of herself, immediately agreeing to help her on this quest to capture Ivy’s heart.

“Of course. I’ll ask around.”

Jinkx sighed happily, leaning on Alaska’s shoulder, eyes falling closed for a moment. “You really are my favorite person, Lask.”

“Back atcha, Jinxky.”

***

Adore walked into Bianca’s party, feeling like a million bucks. Everyone that was anyone and even some who were nothing were there, and Adore knew she looked better than all of them with her purple hair, her pouty red lips, her short black leather dress, fishnets, and best of all… Pearl, the sexiest fucking goddess she’d ever seen in her life at her side.

She hung on Pearl’s arm, enjoying the jealous looks she got; knowing that everyone at the party wanted to be in her place. She even got a nasty look from some models, who were clearly all in love with her girl, but Adore didn’t care.

Pearl was here with her and only her. Pearl glanced at her every few seconds with a smug grin on her face, like the cat that just ate the canary. Well, if the canary was Adore’s pussy. Which would mean the cat was… Well whatever, Adore wasn’t an English scholar. She was in love.

The only thing that sucked was that Courtney looked so fucking miserable. They’d been a little late picking her up, due to getting, well, sidetracked for a while at Pearl’s, and then stopping for food. She thought that Courtney would be a bit more understanding, but she’d barely spoken two words in the car, even Pearl picking up on her obvious anger.

And now, even though she was at the coolest party in Manhattan, she didn’t look happy at all. Adore caught her eye, offering a hopeful smile, but received only a resigned nod in return. She reached out to touch her hand.

“Have I told you how gorgeous you look?” Adore asked, hoping that a compliment and a charming grin would be enough to lighten her mood.

“You think?” Courtney asked, adjusting one of her straps nervously. “I don’t look out of place?”

“Bitch, you put all these other girls to shame,” Adore promised, and was rewarded, finally, with a pleased smile from Courtney.

“Thanks.”

“Pearl!”

Adore looked over at the group of giggling socialites who were approaching them, only slightly annoyed when they swept her girlfriend up. She pouted as Pearl dropped her hand, but smiled again when she doubled back to whisper into her ear, “I’m gonna try and squeeze some gossip out of these hoes, and then I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long!” Adore pulled her in, branding her cheek with a dark red kiss before taking Courtney’s arm and sauntering away, pleased with herself. She scanned the party, looking for her sister and finally spotting her holding court near the bar. She cupped her hands over her mouth to shout through the crowd. “Bianca! Happy birthday, you ancient whore!”

Bianca turned towards her sister’s voice, barking out, “You’re late!”

“Whaddaya mean, we’re right on time for a grand entrance!” Adore countered, laughing.

“Well-” Bianca stopped, completely losing her train of thought when her eyes landed on Courtney. She was wearing a short red dress, the first time Bianca has seen her in a color other than pastels, and she looked absolutely fucking stunning--legs a mile long, one blonde curl falling into her eyes. Damn.

“You look cute, B. Very boobalicious,” Adore said, giving her a hug. “Not bad for an old lady.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Bianca said, eyes still locked on Courtney. “Hi, Courtney.”

“Hi. Happy birthday,” Courtney said, giving her a sweet smile. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Bianca told her. “But here, uh...this’ll help you catch up.”

She took a couple of the signature drinks from a passing tray and handed them over. Adore immediately began to suck hers down, but Courtney hesitated.

“Um, what’s in this?”

“Courtney’s afraid of tequila. It makes her messy, right bae?” Adore bumped her hip.

“Something like that.”

“It’s called a Madras. Vodka, orange juice and cranberry. No tequila, but it will fuck you up. Be warned,” Bianca said with a wink.

“Well...cheers,” Courtney said, giving an adorable little laugh.

“Cheers.” Bianca took a sip of her own drink, then leaned in closer. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes shone, her fingers twirling that stray lock of hair.

“Yeah.” Bianca tried unsuccessfully to wipe the stupid grin off her face, and instead broke the tension with, “I’m shocked that someone who’s friends with my sister has such good taste.”

“Hey!” Adore exclaimed.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s a loaner,” Courtney replied drily, causing Bianca to throw back her head and laugh.

“Fair enough.” She downed the rest of her drink, waving off a couple of acquaintances who were trying to get her attention.

“Be right back,” Adore said, scampering away towards Pearl, of course jumping the second the blonde so much as crooked a little finger.

Courtney reached out for her, but she was already gone. She sighed slightly, looking a little bit dejected, and Bianca cleared her throat.

“So listen, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for a way to avoid your, uh, Galactica employers while you’re here?”

Courtney looked up, startled. She seemed shocked that Bianca was still talking to her, and she stammered uncomfortably. “Oh. Yeah, no, I just-”

“Listen, it’s understandable, you wanna have a good time. Can’t do that while your boss is breathing down your neck, right?” Bianca flashed her dimples.

“Well...yeah,” Courtney admitted, laughing a little.

Bianca stepped closer, slipping an arm around her shoulders and lowering her voice conspiratorially. “Fame and Raja are well contained, don’t worry. I made a VIP section since those two need a velvet rope to feel like they’re having a good time.”

Courtney giggled. “Like a rich person playpen?”

“It’s a prison of their own making,” Bianca affirmed, giving her a wink. “Trust me, they’re looking down on everyone the way they prefer, and they ain’t leaving.”

“Well...thank you.” Courtney bit her lip. It was hard to tell in this light, but it looked like a slight blush had crept into her cheeks, and Bianca found herself even more enamored.

“Anytime.”

A second later, she felt someone tap on her arm: one of the Marie-Claire board members, who she sadly couldn’t ignore.

“Sorry, I have go...do hostess shit,” Bianca said, regret flooding her chest, and Courtney nodded.

“Of course.”

She turned towards the middle-aged man and his young wife, saying her cursory hellos and giving air kisses, making small talk with them both. As soon as she could manage, though, she spared a glance back at Courtney.

The plan, from the moment Adore told her that Courtney was coming, had been to seduce this smoking hot friend of her sister’s. And she figured that the “rough break-up” that Adore’d reported would make it a sure thing. An easy and fun little fling--a birthday present to herself.

But now, something about the wistful, faraway expression on her delicate face as she smoothed down her skirt made her look vulnerable, in a way that gave Bianca pause. As stunning as she was--and fuck, she was an absolute knock-out--it didn’t make Bianca want to seduce her. Instead, it made her want to protect her. Ugh, why did her fucking conscience have rear its ugly head tonight, on her birthday of all nights?

“Thank you so much. Be sure to check out the raw bar!” she said, finally escaping and ready to head back to Courtney--but Adore beat her to it.

She watched as her sister came bounding up, Pearl in tow, and grabbed Courtney’s hands to pull her onto the dance floor.

Well, good. She should have a good time. Lord knows, anyone who worked for Fame deserved to blow off some steam. Bianca snatched another drink from a passing tray, trying to redirect her attention to the Welsh model who’d been giving her bedroom eyes all night.

***

Violet was having a surprisingly good time, taking small sips of her champagne. She had hurried home from work, almost ready when Sutan had texted that he was downstairs, the smile on Sutan’s face when he had seen her dress almost, almost, almost worth it’s price tag.

She had never been to an event of this size without having to worry if catering ran out of ice, or if she’d need to get taxis for whoever got way too drunk. It was nice to just stand by Sutan’s side, nice to be allowed to just be, without having to entertain or constantly think about everything that could go wrong.

“Ah, yes, of course.” Sutan smiled, his thumb rubbing up and down the small of Violet’s back. He was talking to one of the models from Elite, Violet vaguely recognizing her from some of the headshots she had presented to Fame for the fall collection. “I’ll be sure to tell Marcel about that.”

“Excuse me,” Violet turned, her eyes falling on a man with a camera, the card around his neck instantly telling her that he was from OK! magazine. “I was wondering if I could take a few pictures?”

“Oh,” Violet didn’t know what to do, her stomach instantly tightening.

“Sure,” Sutan grinned, turning towards the camera. “Right girls?”

“I-” Violet didn’t want to be in the picture, didn’t want someone she didn’t know documenting where she was, didn’t want to risk it ending up online. “I don’t-”

“Oh of course,” Sutan took her glass, handing it off to someone. “There we go.”

“Sutan”

“Come here,” Sutan put an arm around the model, posing both of them.

“Please-” Violet could feel Sutan’s hand on her hip, holding her tight, keeping her trapped, her throat closing up.

“Should we smile?”

“No,” The photographer looked out from behind his camera, “just be natural.”

Violet pushed away, forcing Sutan to let her go as the camera went off. She didn’t hear Sutan say her name, a quick flicker of a question on his face, didn’t see him smile apologetically to the photographer and pose with the model, didn’t notice any of it as she made her way outside, escaping the only thing she could think of.

***

Juju strolled through the crowd with Raven. She appreciated the whole VIP setup as much as anyone, but this was a massive party, and they’d decided to come spend a little time where the action was, maybe dance a bit -at least as much as her poor pregnant body would allow. They were stopped by a group of models, Raven proudly showing off her engagement ring and letting the other girls fawn all over her.

Juju put up with the schmoozing for a couple of minutes--after all, those girls were potential clients, until she spotted Bianca nearby and politely excused herself from the group, knowing that Raven would be perfectly content with her little fan club.

Bianca was chatting up some sweet young thing (typical), and Juju couldn’t resist messing with her a little. She wrapped her arms around Bianca’s waist from behind, asking in a low, husky voice, “Tell me I’m your favorite, Daddy.”

It was a joke between the two of them, something that had started years ago when Juju and Detox were first dating. They’d shown up at brunch one morning in the middle of a heated argument about whether it was appropriate for her to call him “Daddy” during sex--ironically, only a few months before she got preganant with their first child. It wasn’t a kink thing, exactly, it was just that she thought it was funny, and especially so when she saw his freaked out reaction. The group agreed that right or wrong, if it bothered him then she probably shouldn’t say it. But Bianca, ever the good sport, had pulled the smaller woman into her lap and declared that if she really needed to call someone Daddy, she was ‘willing to take one for the team.’

Juju accompanied her breathy greeting by biting gently on Bianca’s ear, adding, “Pwease?”

Bianca burst out laughing, pulling her close and introducing her to a very confused looking girl. “Tayce, you must know my friend Juju Sanderson. The brilliant hairstylist who owns Jujubee’s downtown?”

“Oh, yeah! It’s an honor!” Tayce said, her brown eyes lighting up as a dazzling smile spread across her face. “I’ve been trying to get an appointment with you, but you’re booked up for months!”

Juju had to bite back her laugh when she heard Tayce speak--Bianca always was a sucker for an accent.

“Well, play your luck with Daddy here, and you might jump the queue,” Juju said with a wink.

“Among other benefits,” Bianca cackled. “You know you’re the only one who I’d let get away with that Daddy shit, right?”

“Yes, thank you. You’re a lot more fun than my husband.”

“In so many ways,” Bianca said, turning to Tayce and giving her a playful smirk.

***

Violet took a deep breath, letting it out through her teeth as she could finally feel her heart slow down, though the knot in her stomach wasn’t going away.

She knew she couldn’t help it, but it was impossible not to feel an inkling of shame travel up her spine, the feeling that she was being ridiculous impossible to push down.

Sutan hadn’t meant anything by it, taking photos a part of his life, being in the public eye something that simply came natural for him.

Violet took a last breath, pushing away from the wall she had been leaning against to go back to the party, hoping that Sutan hadn’t noticed how strange she was acting.

It wasn’t that Violet liked acting this way, that she wanted to feel the panic rising in her body whenever she saw a camera in a stranger's hand, but she couldn’t help it.

She was an adult now, she had her own life, her own money and even her own job and her own apartment, but it was hard not to hide, impossible not to react to the instinctive fear that welled up in her at the risk of being found.

Violet walked back inside, the noise and the amount of people feeling so much more overwhelming when she wasn’t at Sutan’s side. She made her way through the crowd, easily spotting both Fame and Pearl, avoiding both of them.

She was starting to think Sutan had left, Raja nowhere to be found either, when she saw him sitting at a table, surrounded by models. He was laughing loudly, his arm around one of the girls, several of the models’ phones taking pictures of everything that was happening.

Violet’s stomach did a flip, the panic from earlier rushing through her body. She couldn’t go over there, couldn’t be a part of that part of Sutan’s world, so instead, Violet did what she always did.

Turned around, and walked away.

***

[Raja?] Sutan put a hand on Raja’s hip, turning her around. Sutan had been sitting with a group of models, doing shots and having fun right up until one of them had touched his legs under the table, and he had abandoned ship instantly.

[Have you seen Violet?]

He hadn’t seen her in over an hour, and while Sutan was more than sure that Violet could take care of herself, he had started to worry.

[Sutan!] Raja grinned, stepping into his space, looping her arms around his neck. [Hello brother dear.]

[Hello.] Sutan smiled, once again reminded of how much he truly loved Raja. She was tipsy, her eyes swimming slightly, which was probably why she hadn’t responded to his question. [Have you seen Violet?]

[Violet?] Raja tilted her head, her hand fiddling with the hairs at the nape of his neck. [No?]

[Shit.] Sutan bit his lip, his hands resting on Raja’s hips.

[Maybe she just left?] Raja smiled, running her fingers through his hair. [There’s no need to worry.]

[Maybe...]

[She can handle herself.]

[Mmmh.] Sutan knew that Raja was probably right, but it still felt weird that VIolet hadn’t said goodbye, and if he was honest, he was disappointed that they wouldn’t be going home together at the end of the night. [I’ll send her a text.]

Sutan was just about to reach into his pocket, was just about to get his phone out, when he saw a photographer to his left, just outside the VIP section. The paparazzi always loved to get photos of him and Raja together, and while he was sure Raja hadn’t noticed, he made sure to twist her slightly to the left, getting her good side as he smiled at the camera.

***

“Every guy here is drooling over you, bae,” Adore giggled, spinning Courtney on the dance floor before accepting another drink from Pearl.

“Not just the guys,” Pearl added with a wink.

Courtney laughed. In spite of her hesitation in tagging along, she’d been having a pretty good time. The attention was fun, of course, but Courtney’d barely noticed the alleged guys drooling over her. She couldn’t help thinking about the way she’d felt when Bianca put that arm around her, the way her brown eyes had sparkled in the dim light. The way goosebumps prickled her skin as Bianca’s fingers grazed her shoulder.

Her gaze kept being pulled in Bianca’s direction. Eyes drifting over her enticing curves in that tight dress. And occasionally, to her absolute thrill, Bianca would be looking back at her. Every time their eyes met, her stomach flipped around like crazy.

It was silly, she knew that. She knew that Bianca was only being nice to her because she was Adore’s friend. A nice kid. That it didn’t mean anything deep. This was, after all, a woman who dated supermodels and Oscar winners. Like the gorgeous girl by her side most of the evening, who had a face that Courtney instantly recognized from last month’s British Vogue cover.

Still.

The reality of the situation didn’t stop her from pretending, even just to herself, even just for the night, that maybe there was something there, that warranted all these confusing feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado.

And later, when they were saying goodbye, she allowed herself to enjoy the way Bianca’s palm pressed to the small of her back. She even let her lips linger for a few moments on Bianca’s warm cheek, kissing her goodnight.

***

SUTAN: Did you leave?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: The party is still going.

SUTAN: Did you get home safe?

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: I can’t find you.

[MISSED CALL]

SUTAN: Violet??

VIOLET: I’m fine.

7 notes · View notes

fluidityandgiggles · 5 years ago

Text

Dalton Big Bang day 22 - That’s What We’re Here For

Writing Masterpost, AO3 Link

Notes: Logan in therapy is a thing I care about very deeply and he needs a good therapist to help him out. Did you really think I'll write about anyone else in therapy?

"This is Dr. Blake's office," Johnny told Logan as they left the horrid medicinal smell of the office building and entered a room that could best be described as what would happen if a unicorn projectile-vomited.

Well, maybe he was exaggerating a little, but still! The walls were a light lilac color, decorated with fairy lights and childish doodles painted on colorful paper; the wall near the door had several bookcases on it, full of crafting supplies and tabletop games and books Logan didn't care to check out, and next to them was a white desk with two colorful chairs right up against the wall.

There were also a small coffee table and a light blue suede couch opposite the desk and chairs. The couch was covered with plushies and there was a soft blanket folded neatly on the armrest. That was the biggest offender in his opinion. That couch in particular.

On that couch sat a young man, about somewhere in his thirties, sipping a cup of tea and looking straight at Logan. He sported slightly messy light brown hair, in a way that still seemed intentionally so, and frameless glasses that sat high on the bridge of his nose; Logan believed that, had the glasses been different, maybe his green argyle sweater vest and khaki pants combo would look less nerdy and more… well, more like something. Anything, really.

"Dr. Blake," John greeted the man, nodding a bit as a courtesy.

"Senator Wright." His voice was calm, but as his face broke into a smile Logan could hear it change into something else. "And this must be John—"

"Logan."

"Yes, of course. Excuse me." As the therapist stood up, Logan could see him grab a cane he hasn't seen before, that until now was resting on the small table. At a closer glance, he could see the man's leg wrapped in a bandage of some sort. "It's nice to meet you, Logan. I'm Arin Blake, you can call me Arin, or Dr. Arin, or Dr. Blake if you so fancy, I honestly wouldn't mind."

"Yeah…"

"Don't fuck this one up," Johnny threatened Logan as he turned to leave. "Your psychiatrist recommended him to us. Don't make her regret it—"

"Actually, Senator, I'd rather you joined us today."

The man was already on his phone by then, but at least he didn't leave, which meant he listened probably. Still surprised at the suggestion though, which showed on his face. Logan just scowled as he went to sit on the truly offensive couch - as instructed by the doctor - and grabbed a cat plushie to hold.

A brown cat plushie, not too fluffy, with embroidered black eyes and a stupid expression.

Kinda reminds him of Julian. In a way. He's not sure which.

"In order to understand what we're working on here, I'd like to also hear your side of the story," Blake continued as he sat down in a chair in front of them. Johnny took the other side of the couch. "Can I offer you coffee, tea? Water?"

"Coffee is fine," Logan shrugged.

"To me as well."

"Just remind me for a moment, which medication are you prescribed?"

Logan may have rolled his eyes at that.

"Prozac, and I'm starting to take adderall soon."

"I see…" he hummed to himself as he got up and left the office, leaving Logan and Johnny in uncomfortable silence.

Dr. Blake's cup of tea was in a big blue mug, decorated with a print of tiny cartoon citrus slices. A clear plastic teaspoon stuck a bit over the top, and Logan inspected the little tag on the tea bag. Hibiscus apple cinnamon. Sounds fancy enough.

He just about took his phone out and started playing something when Blake came back, hopping on one leg almost, and put two disposable cups in front of them. Johnny's was a cup of coffee. His, though…

"I asked for coffee."

"And isn't this it?"

He took a sip. "It's… it's fine." It wasn't. There was too much milk, he could tell just by looking it. This was just a confirmation. "Thanks."

"So how about you both tell me why you're here?" The doctor sat back down in his chair, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know if you've heard in the news, but there was a fire at Logan's school—"

"Don't act like that's the reason we're here." Logan waited for his father to get red in the face. He always did. So he just leaned back and counted the seconds. "You brought me here because you think that everything wrong in your life is the result of me simply existing, and your only excuse to actually do it is that the people you dumped me on when you couldn't bother with keeping me around anymore can't look after me now."

"How do you think people would have reacted to my campaign if they knew—"

"Oh, come on, not everything is about your FUCKING JOB!"

"Okay, okay, Logan put that cup down." He did as he was told. After all, he can't fuck this one up, can he? "Now, without exploding on each other, please tell me what's going on."

"Logan's school burned down back in March—"

"February."

"—and he's only been getting worse since. He's always had anger issues, but since then he won't stop acting out. Usually over quite… petty things too."

Blake pushed his glasses further up, if that was even possible. "Petty things like what?"

"Like…" Johnny faltered, fumbling for words. So Logan spoke for him.

"Like that time last week when I asked if I can go visit my friend in California and you said I can't because what if his mom says no."

"Ms. Larson is a very busy woman, Logan. You can't just expect her to let you stay over because you wanted to on a whim."

"Well, I'm not five anymore, I don't think it really matters so much whether or not she can—"

"Let's stop it right there, again, Logan." Dr. Blake's stare made Logan curl up into himself. "Repeat that, now calmly."

Logan swallowed rather hard before talking again.

————

"Tell me a little about your friends," Dr. Blake asked at another meeting, about five weeks later. Logan sat on the chair closest to the desk, hugging the cat plushie again, and focused on drawing some flowers.

Lily of the valley. It was the only flower he could draw well. And isn't that just sad.

"There's Derek," he started, drawing the stems. "He… well, if he put half as much energy into caring for himself as he does for caring for me, I think the world would be a much better place. I think he's trying to compensate for this with girlfriends. It's kind of worrying, to be honest."

"But he cares for you?"

"Yeah. Sometimes a bit too much. It's… it's funny, actually, because… he really needs to work on himself. He can't fix me no matter how much he tries, because he's not some miracle worker and my mental health isn't fixable—"

"But it is treatable. And that's what we're here for."

"Yeah. I just… I find it funny, because he spends so much time trying to fix me that he's completely ignoring himself, and then he goes off and thinks having a girlfriend is a good replacement for self care. But I can't just tell him that… he'll get upset and then say it's not important and I'm just obsessing over it because reasons, and then when I get upset over not understanding he says it's my anger issues and I should be medicated."

"And why do you think he's doing this?"

This was the type of question that Logan quickly learned Blake loved asking. 'Why do you think', 'why do you feel', as if he wasn't the expert here. It was weird, having someone interested in his opinion without calling it anger issues and shutting him up, or telling him it's stupid and all that. He wasn't sure he could get used to it, but he certainly felt like he was, and it scared him.

"I think… I think he's just worried… he has anxiety, and I think he's reflecting it onto others because he doesn't know how to deal with it himself…? I know his parents don't know how to. So neither does he."

"And your other friend?"

Logan put down his pencil and picked a yellow one, throwing Blake a look.

"Julian is… he's cool. I miss him, I haven't seen him in months and he can't come over for vacation because his mother won't let him."

"Is he just cool?"

"I mean… he's one of my best friends, so… he's cool. He's very snarky sometimes… well, most of the time… and we talked about it a while ago, about why he's like this, and it was before revising my diagnosis, and he didn't really understand that I was insulting him back as a fight or flight response and he thought I was enjoying it… umm…"

Blake just pushed a mug closer to Logan. It was a clear mug, full of a bright red liquid. The hibiscus apple cinnamon tea. He made it for Logan today, as an attempt to get him to like something with no caffeine. Apparently coffee was bad for adderall. He assumed it'll be okay though.

"We're working on it now. And he needs physical therapy, so it's not like we really can do it in person, but we call each other every day and stuff…"

"You should visit him, then," the doctor suggested, making Logan snort.

"I don't think he wants me around… his boyfriend is there to keep him company. It's fine. Well… not his boyfriend. I'm not sure what they are. It's complicated, I think. Jules says they're not dating but they sure have a—"

"Dearie, are you jealous?"

He just laughed again. "Of Julian? Nope. Not in a million years. Of Sebastian? I… I don't actually know. I mean, he and Julian aren't together even if sometimes it feels like it, and Jules did say I'm his best friend and stuff, but on the other hand he makes him happy, and…"

"And being jealous is okay, so long as you put it into a healthy outlet and not into anger. Talk to Julian about it. See what he thinks and says."

"But… we talked about it… kind of… he said he's in love with me, but it wasn't at a very ideal situation, and… we agreed to not talk about it. Just… let ourselves work through it, figure out what we really feel… what he really feels… and then we'll see where we go from there."

"That's good. But ask him for clarification, okay? Don't make your head spin like this."

Logan just nodded along, grabbing a blue pencil to shade in the flowers themselves.

"So I think I'm going to visit Julian soon," he continues. "I'll ask Derek to join me too… maybe I can buy him a gift…"

"That's a nice idea. What does he like?"

"He likes… cats, and candy… maybe I can get him new sunglasses. I think he'll like sunglasses. Or coffee…"

"Is coffee a gift?"

"Expensive coffee, maybe."

The doctor just laughed. "How about starting small… what about flowers?"

"...I can get him flowers…"

"That you can. I fear we're running out of time, though." Logan looked up from his drawing, a bit disappointed. "We can keep talking about this next week too, okay?"

"Okay… sorry for wasting time like this."

"You've wasted no time, dearie. It's all good. Just remind your father to write me a check, yeah?"

————

Logan crashed on the blue suede couch and covered himself all the way up over his head the second he made it to Dr. Blake's office that day. Sure, he was still wearing his huge coat — New York was especially snowy this winter, like, much more than usual — but he didn't really want to show his face to the world, and the receptionist who asked him to wait earlier was on the receiving end of his panic attack. It wasn't fair to the others, and it just… it wasn't…

"Do you want me to make you tea, dearie?" Blake asked him, rubbing his back. He sounded worried.

Logan just nodded and whimpered.

"Okay… try to breathe while I'm gone, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four. Think you can do that?"

He nodded again.

"I'll be right back."

As Logan waited for Blake to come back, he started crying again. Winter vacation wasn't treating him too well, between fighting with Julian back at school right before coming home and getting yelled at by his father for flirting with the son of an associate (well, the guy was pretty cute, and certainly down to fuck) and probably the cherry on top, he was late. It wasn't as bad as the others, but he was late to this appointment, and he had so much to talk about, and…

"Logan, can you hear me?" Blake asked after what felt like forever, holding his hand. Logan whimpered again in response. "Come on, let's breathe together. I'll count."

He didn't even feel how long it took before he was sitting up, a second, weighted blanket on his shoulder, drinking his tea. Dr. Blake was still there, helping wipe his cheeks with a tissue as Logan tried to calm down.

"...Julian and I had a fight."

"Okay… what was it about?"

"I… I tried talking to him again, about… about us, and our relationship, and where does our friendship go, and he screamed at me that he's tired of talking about it and that I need to stop bringing it up, that he's with Sebastian and that's it, and then I yelled back and I… I may have slapped him, but…"

"That's bad, dearie. You know it's bad."

"I know! And I hate myself, I hate myself so much for doing this! He doesn't deserve a friend like me, I'm… I'm possessive and an asshole, and he just…"

"Okay, here's where you're wrong," the doctor told him, taking one of his hands. "You're wonderful, Logan. You're a great friend, and Julian didn't tell you he hates you. He didn't say you're terrible."

"But he implied it."

"He did not. It was an intrusive thought. What did Julian say, exactly?"

"...he… he said it's, he said that he's tired of talking about it, and that… that he already has a boyfriend, so I can't... " He hiccuped.

"Exactly… nothing about you as a friend. Open your phone and call him for me, okay? I want you to talk to him, and I want to see you do it."

Logan just nodded, a bit hesitant. He fumbled with his phone, trying to avoid looking at Julian's number, but ultimately he just… did.

Julian answered at the third ring.

"Hey, Lo."

"Hey…" he sniffled a bit. "I just… I need clarification on… on something." He looked at Blake for approval, wiping his eyes with a finger. Blake just nodded.

"Sure, what's up…?"

"Just… when we… had the fight. And you screamed at me and I screamed back, and…" Logan took a second. "Jules, do you hate me?"

"...are you high right now? Seriously. Are you?"

"No… I'm in… never mind."

"Okay... Lolo, I can't hate you. You're my best friend, you know how much I love you, but sometimes I can get mad or frustrated. Just like you do." He could hear the disappointment in Julian's voice almost. "I'm with Sebastian now. I'm happy with him. I love you, I really do, but you constantly asking me if I'm sure I'm happy and if we can give it a chance is getting tiring. I'm sorry, but it's getting really difficult."

"I… I'm sorry… Jules, I—"

"I accept your apology. I'm not mad at you, you don't have to get so anxious about this. You're starting to act like Derek."

"I'm still sorry…" he could finally take a breath, looking at his therapist for approval again. "That's… that's all I… I'm just in therapy, and…"

"Okay… go back to therapy. Don't waste time talking to me. I love you."

"Yeah… me too."

Logan hung up after that and turned to sip his tea, which has now cooled down.

And then the doctor spoke. "I'm proud of you. You don't need to apologize so much, you're doing just fine, but you did great. I'm so proud."

"Thanks." Logan forced a smile.

Maybe… maybe things would be okay, at the end of it all. He sure hoped so.

————

"I'm going to ask Julian out," Logan announced one day, two years into seeing Blake, just waltzing into the office. He may have caught his doctor by surprise, but as he sat down and grabbed his cat plushie, Blake straightened back up and cleared his throat.

"Doesn't he have a boyfriend, though?"

"Not anymore! And he said he doesn't want a rebound but then we talked about it and—"

"Okay, slow down. Let's start from the top. Julian broke up with his boyfriend?"

Logan nodded, then started rambling — "apparently they grew apart, at least it's what he told me, but I'm kinda pretty sure Sebastian cheated on him with Blaine? Blaine is my ex, he's kinda… meh. But yeah. So they broke up, like, three weeks ago, and Jules said he doesn't want a rebound so fast after the relationship, but I can build up to it! I can… I can start talking to him about it, right?" — all while Dr. Blake listened, nodding along to what he was saying.

"...okay… we can build up to that, then. I can help you do it if you're nervous about it."

"I'm really nervous about this…"

"Okay, okay, I can help. But first, how was your week? I made you tea."

"I saw that, thank you, but…" his stomach fell. "My week was so boring… college is boring. I have an exam in two weeks that I'm not sure I'm ready for, Alex had a mental breakdown the other day that I had to help with because nobody else was around, my dad visited…"

"And how is your dad?" Logan rolled his eyes at this question. "No, no no no. You answer me. How is your dad?"

"He still thinks I'm gay for the rebellion part of it. I mean, he'll get over it, I have faith in Michelle to make him change his mind, but… he and Michelle visited, and it was really nice. I missed both of them so much. But the second he saw my friends again he started talking shit, because Drew's voice dropped a lot since the last time they met and he started making transphobic remarks and it was… it was bad. It was so bad."

"Did you help Drew out?"

"Yeah… and then my dad got mad at me and we went into a screaming match. But it's okay, Michelle… did her best to get us to talk. I think he understands it now… not the gay thing, but… the transgender thing."

"That's good…"

Logan opened his phone right before the end of the session, as Blake was reminding him to remind his father to pay and that next week they'll talk in video chat, same day same hour. He nodded along, looking through to his messages to Julian — there — and getting up and out.

Lolo: I know you said you don't want to get back at it this early, but when you're ready, wanna go on a proper date…?

Lolo: also, can we talk about something? I have an exam soon and I'm anxious as shit

He kept staring at it as he went downstairs and to his car, watching the text on the screen dance with a pain in his chest.

J is typing...

#kylo cant write #daltonfic #daltonficbigbang #day 22 - therapy #logan in therapy is obvious but so good #logan needs help folksies #also his therapist is heavily inspired by bdg because why not

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chireikiden · 5 years ago

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Idk where I expected Detective Satori to go, but this wasn't it. My original theory was Sakuya drugged Patchouli because she was working too hard and needed to rest. Touhou really just be like that, huh?

I have a whole bunch of asks just asking me for thoughts on various things, so I’m going to dump most of them on the one ask with the guts to come off anon. You’re welcome. Rambling essay under the cut.

A vengeful spirit possessing people seemed to be one of the first (half-plausible) theories getting thrown around, and maybe one of the more obvious ones, but I mostly hoped that it wouldn’t be that precisely because it feels like such a cop-out. Frankly, I think I was right on that part. Since it’s apparently going to be a recurring thing, I’ll wishfully assume that it’s going to get elaborated on later, but in a vacuum, “generic spirit looking to possess people for possession’s sake” is hardly a motive of its own while also making anyone else’s motives a non-factor. I guess a spirit feeding itself to people in the form of drinks is a pretty neat concept, if not for this mess surrounding it. We’ll see where it goes.

At least it wasn’t Koishi, though, so my hill remains un-died on.

Honestly, I’m still in some disbelief because this actually doesn’t even feel like ZUN’s writing to me, i.e. what Touhou is like, not just in quality (since that’s subjective anyway) but definitely not in style. I suppose that Meiling being a joke is maybe a bit disappointing but not entirely out of line with what little we’ve seen before, Flandre was a bit of a rollercoaster with some good bits - probably still a net positive, I guess, especially if you milk some more comedy out of her being weirdly eloquent but thinking the world works like a mystery novel with everyone at the mansion looking to backstab each other. Patchouli apparently spent most of her waking time possessed, which explains some of her behavior and could’ve been interesting if they actually lingered on it a bit longer instead of Satori just mentioning it off-hand. Orin provided most of the funny faces, and Satori’s role was nice and smug if very brief.

Remilia and Sakuya, however, got weirdly reduced into uncharacteristically faint-hearted damsels mostly acting shocked by everything. Unfortunately, I’m increasingly thinking that might’ve come down to artistic choice in how their expressions were drawn. I mean, if the script was the same but every “worried shocked face” was drawn as angry or something instead and the composition was different, it’d change their whole image. Sakuya in particular is actually one of my favorite characters personality-wise, but didn’t exactly get to shine here to say the least. “Eternal Meek” indeed. At least her kitchen-related eccentricities were a fun touch. The hate club pin on my lapel obligates me to suggest that ZUN just doesn’t feel inspired writing the SDM cast, but that’s only a small part of the problem at most.

As another bunch of anons have also pointed out and/or wanted explanations for - I just work here, man - there’s a lot of things that, while not strictly plot “holes” in the sense of being unexplainable, were just left hanging without any mention or explanation: the library’s broken lock, the messed up books, Meiling’s behavior since she wasn’t yet possessed at the time, what actually made Flan suspect her (unless it was just totally random), how Satori knew to get involved with this case in the first place, etc. Also, Remi somehow forgot what a detective is in chapter 4.1. despite already talking about Satori earlier and even calling herself an armchair detective in the past.

Whether you consider it a “fair” excuse or not, I think a lot of these issues might end up coming down to the artist’s inexperience with drawing a monthly manga written by someone else, and all the scheduling and communication issues that follow. Even the dropped plot points could be a result of them struggling to meet page counts and the last chapters having to be split up yet still seeming rushed in the end. Or they “could” be somehow explained in the future once more details about the spirit and its motives come out, but that’s hard to pin your hopes on, and if they were really meant to be mysteries in themselves, you’d expect some character to point that out too.

While that’s not exactly promising, at least inexperience is fixable (by experience). To answer some asks: yes, it does seem for now like Mortuarty will be the main antagonist here. No, she is not Mima. No, I don’t think they’re picking up a detective team member from the SDM, and I sure hope they don’t with how plain they’ve been so far. And nobody asked, but yes, I’m a bit worried that they really are going through the games in order. Although it might mean that I get the Mokou murder mystery I’ve been joking about for a long time, knock on wood.

Now,

#ask #heca-tia #chireikiden disc.

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anastasiaskarsgard · 6 years ago

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Meeting Nadia

Chapter 1

“I have never been this nervous in my life.” I told roman as we pulled into his driveway. “What if she doesn’t like me?”

Roman chuckled. “I love you, so she’ll love you but there’s a few things I must warn you about.” He parked and turned to me grabbing both my hands and looking into my eyes. “She absolutely can read your mind.”

I was not so much shocked, as I was intimidated. I mean could she dig thru your memories or only see what you thought at the present? Could she recognize what thoughts were reality and which were imaginary? Could she see your dreams while you slept? Was there a range for her being able to access your mind? Did she have to see you, or touch you? So many questions.

“Hey killer. What are you thinking? Talk to me.” Roman searches my eyes looking a little less confident than usual.

“Just like does she need to touch you or look at you? Can she tell what thoughts are real or memories of shows or dreams? Can she dig thru your mind? Can you see her thoughts? I mean .... wow.” I looked at the house wondering if she were listening to us right now.

“How scary for a little girl, to see in the mind of adults.” I looked back to Roman.

All of a sudden I wanted to meet this little girl more than anything. I had to protect her from the world and show her beautiful things and thoughts. No doom and gloom like she’s been exposed to. I wanted to meet this little miracle of a girl and show her how happy life could be.

“I already love her and want to protect her and show her all the beauty in the world and I haven’t even met her.” I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

Roman beamed at me, pulling me in for a passionate kiss. He pulled away slightly and then nuzzled his cheek against mine before whispering, “how is it possible to love someone so much? How did I ever survive without you?”

“I think I’d die if I lost you.” I said without thinking and felt my stomach somersault when I realized what I’d just said. I smiled and pulled back to look at his perfect face. “Are you perfect, or do I just think so because I love you so?”

“I’m pretty perfect honestly. I mean look at this bone structure,” he said laughing. “You ready to meet her? She already knows you’re here. She’s waiting for us.”

I squealed and jumped out of the car, leaving everything inside and running over to the front door. Roman made his way over, much more casually as I hopped up and down nearly bursting with enthusiasm.

“Ok breathe.” He said as he opened the door.

The house was very modern and the decor kind of dark and dreary. It had a dark foreboding feeling and wasn’t at all welcoming or warm. It kind of felt like another museum house, but that was fixable. Most guys decorate this way. Roman just was fabulously wealthy so it looked more intentional and artsy.

There was a man cooking something in the kitchen that smelled amazing. I guessed this must be the chef and discretely scanned the area for a child, but could see none. I also noted there weren’t any toys or signs of a child in the home. No toys or high chair, or tiny shoes or clothing to be seen. No pictures of any actual people. Just art. That was the first thing I was going to do. Get a cute picture of Roman and Nadia and display it in a nice frame. I wonder if she looks like him. Does she have his full pillow lips and soulful eyes, or does she favor her mother. I’d only seen a single picture of Letha when I’d searched for info on Roman.

Letha was beautiful. She had long golden hair, big blue eyes, and soft feminine features. She had a kind smile in the photograph that you could see shined out through her eyes as well. She was beautiful light that was welcoming and warm. She made you feel like she would be your best friend and cry at the movies. Romans beauty was more severe. He had sharp features and although he was gorgeous, it wasn’t welcoming and warm like Letha’s beauty. It was more intimidating, and you could even go so far as to say, he was the beautiful darkness. The crisp pure silence that meets you late at night when you’re alone and everything looks differently yet the same, and you feel like something might be watching you from the shadows.

“Where’s Nadia Marcus?” Roman asked the man cooking.

My mouth was watering from its wonderful aroma. I’d never had a chef before, and suddenly felt the need to get one myself. I had money, but I never hired help around the house, feeling like it was lazy but maybe having people do things for you, wasn’t that terrible. He was cooking some type of stir fry with noodles and veggies as well as some type of meat. Chicken maybe? I didn’t know how to ask for food, and felt weird assuming I can just have some, so I tried to push my hunger back in my mind.

“She’s with Elise in the library learning a new language.” He said in a deep warm voice.

“Another one?” Roman chuckled. “English, French, Spanish, Russian, Swedish, and Latin wasn’t enough?”

“Wow, she knows words in all those languages?” I asked.

“No she knows them all fluently.”

“I wonder if she’s like me then,” i wondered out loud, more to myself than anyone in particular.

“How so? Oh I’m rude. Marcus this is the love of my life and new mother for Nadia, Letha this is Marcus, our chef. I want you to feel at home here. Everything I have is yours as well.” Roman said earnestly.

“Just How once I see something or read it, I remember it forever. I speak all those languages as well as Portuguese, mandarin, Japanese, Korean, Lithuanian, German, Norwegian, Italian and Greek.”

Marcus’s eyes shot up to look at me and you could see the total shock as he just stared at me for a moment before getting his composure and smiling uncomfortably “wonderful to meet you.”

“Daddy!!!” A shrill little voice rang out, as a little girl came running full speed across the living room and without hesitation launched herself through the air and into Romans arms giggling like a maniac. Roman lit up as soon as he heard her voice and was giggling as wildly as she. I’d never seen a more beautiful moment in my life and almost felt as though I was an intruder and should go but i also wanted to run over to them too and hug and kiss them both and we could all giggle like maniacs and fall to the floor together in a big happy heap.

“Well then come give us a hug Mommy!” Nadia said turning to me with her arm open to bring me in an embrace.

Roman stopped laughing immediately and looked between Nadia and I like he’d just been slapped.

“Oh Daddy, I love you too and I can see you brought me a wonderful good Mommy that loves you and wants me to love her as well. She has nothing but good intentions for the both of us and there’s something special about her I haven’t felt since I was inside my Mother.”

I slowly walked over to them and embraced them both. Nadia was completely comfortable, but Roman and I were both not 100%. I understood she could see thoughts, but I wasn’t prepared for how matter of fact she was about everything. And then there was the fact she had just called me Mommy. Did she call every woman Mommy? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

“Don’t be silly Mommy. I only call you Mommy because that’s what you are and you wholeheartedly wish to be. I know my Mother loved me and Daddy very much and although she wanted to stay, her body was unable to contain her energy and was damaged beyond repair, Daddy is the best Daddy that loved mother and me, and loves you but in a different way than mother and I. I know my Nanny Elise is a good woman that we employ to care for me, and she cares for me and has a crush on Daddy but would never act on it because she’s also terrified of him. Marcus is our chef and he thinks I’m very creepy and we all make him uncomfortable, but he is married to Tia, our housekeeper, so he is here to protect her which I think is very admirable. Tia thinks I am a real angel child and that Daddy is a fallen angel. She thinks God wants her to watch over us and love us to bring us back home to the light someday and protect us from the darkness.” Everyone looked at each other kind of coyly, with these revelations. There really was no hiding anything. “Daddy let me down, I need to show Mommy something.” Roman obliged and set her down.

She was the most beautiful child I’d ever seen and her eyes were an eery blue like my uncle had described and long chocalate colored hair the same as her father. She also had his perfect nose and pouty lips, but softer features like her mother. She was so pretty, she almost didn’t look real, like a very high quality doll, sprung to life.

“Oooh your uncle is an Angel? I’d very much like to meet him.” Nadia said sweetly.

This was going to take some getting used to.

“What are you going to show me sweetie?” I asked her. I had never been so enthralled with anything as I was this little girl. She was magnetic and had this other worldly confidence that made her seem wise and mature although she wasn’t even 3.

“Our future.” She stated giving me a little wink and taking my hand and leading me to the staircase and up the stairs. “I’m so glad Daddy finally found you. He’s needed you since before I can remember, and like you, I remember everything.”

I looked down at Roman who was watching us in awe and adoration. He blew a kiss to me and smiled.

“We love you too Daddy.” Nadia sang out.

This was definitely going to take some getting used to but I’d never been so excited and committed to something in my life.

#hemlock grove #roman godfrey #letha godfrey #letha #nadia godfrey #upir #angel #fanfic

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ridiasfangirlings · 6 years ago

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What do you think would have happened if the Colorless King had succeeded in his plan to consume the other kings? Does that mean the other kings would be dead or just robbed of their powers? What would the clans do in response, specifically the 2nd and 3rd in commands (+the silver clansmen. Not sure they have official rankings in their little group). Is this fixable or an end-of-the-world scenario?

Honestly I’m not even sure how Colorless intended to take everyone’s powers, he can only bodysnatch one person at a time and there’s no indication that taking over Weismann’s body actually gave him any of Weismann’s powers so I dunno what exactly his endgame plan was for that one. He seemed very fixated on taking over the Silver King’s body in particular, which in retrospect seems a bit silly since judging from ROK Shiro doesn’t exactly have a lot of offensive capability. I’m assuming Colorless went for the Silver King more for the ‘immortality’ thing but then he jumps out of the body as soon as the airship crashes so apparently he didn’t trust in keeping the immortality that much. He also seems perfectly content to just let Mikoto’s Sword fall so maybe the plan was less to consume other Kings and more to make them all suffer a Damocles Down and then he’d just be the only King left in town? I think if he was going to manage to rob everyone’s powers somehow it would probably be via killing them, presumably through some kind of bodysnatch shenanigans, Colorless didn’t seem super bright but I think even he would be smarter than to let even a powerless King live, just to be sure that those powers he took have no place to go back to.

If he did manage to take everyone’s powers I think that’s pretty heavy endgame, it would be very difficult for the normal clansmen to take him down. Considering the general wisdom is 'only a King can kill another King’ and the one exception – Zenjoh – was only able to do it to a fully consenting King who wanted to be killed, I don’t know if the rest of the cast would have many options to handle this (the one wild card I suppose is Kuroh, since Ichigen tasked him with killing the new Colorless if that King turned out to be evil and would Ichigen give Kuroh an order that couldn’t be followed, but then again assuming Ichigen saw a decent amount of the future he might just have known that he had to give that order so that Kuroh could meet his true King). Their best option would probably be to try and destroy the Slate in this scenario, even without having access to Klaudia’s notes I feel like that would end up on the table at some point. Of course the hard part is how do you destroy the Slate with only one King, like I could see this culminating in some big casualty-heavy battle where they use Colorless’s fragmented mental state to force a Damocles Down right above the Slate itself and if they’re lucky that only kills Colorless and doesn’t take a giant chunk of Japan with it.

#k project #Talking K #no seriously did Colorless even have a plan #guys I don't think Colorless had a plan #like for a guy who wants to steal all the King powers he doesn't really take over any Kings?#just Weismann and that's it #and he doesn't even do anything as Weismann except spy on people and dance with Weismann's Real Doll #I think he was just making shit up as he went along #well him or Gora one of those

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silentauroriamthereal · 6 years ago

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The year in review

At least four people have tagged me for this thingy now (bless, thank you for that!), so it looks like it’s time to do the thingy!

Total number of completed stories: Just six, but they’re long?

Total word count: 241,836 words. (Average per story: 40,306 words)

Fandoms written in: BBC Sherlock

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected? I wrote a little bit less this past year than I have in some past (my record is 2014, immediately following series 3, due to my life-consuming obsession with fixing it, where I wrote over 700,000 words in a single year, lol). This wasn’t at all unexpected to me: at the very end of 2017 I was told by a doctor that if I didn’t take the stress leave three other doctors had strongly recommended at that point, I could actually die. I had to back off a lot of things and it slowed me down in terms of writing. Then I moved across the country at the end of June, which was obviously time-consuming and stressful, then I spent two months wallowing in depression, unemployment (aka, “stress leave”), and life in my parents’ basement, then moved again, got at least two jobs (more if we’re counting freelance singing work), struggling furiously to keep my nose above the water - which, again, has cut into my writing time. I’m pretty pleased that I still managed to crank out over 240k, honestly.

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Oooh, choosing favourites among my own stories... that’s always tough. Some of them are still too recent too be able to judge objectively (I mean, quite often whatever is the most recent is my temporary “favourite”, until I write something else, lol!) I might give this one to In the Still of the Night, just for the sheer amount of time it gave me to spend inside my beloved Sherlock’s head. :)

Did you take any writing risks this year? Yes, and as usual, it didn’t particularly pay off, lol. Every story of mine that strays beyond my usual, simple, straight-forward narrative style tends to flag in terms of readership. Another risky gambit is to write from a third party’s perspective, I’ve found, though never has it failed to land as much as my story Rosa Felicia did. I’m very proud of this story, and love every single person who read it and actually liked it. This story is the sequel to The Book of Silence (another favourite from 2018!), and the POV character is John’s daughter, in her first year of university. It’s a coming-of-age story wherein she learns the truth about who her mother was, starts figuring out her sexuality, and survives her first major brush with her fathers’ world. I know that third party POVs tend to be less popular, and I figured that a story about John’s kid would be less popular, too (for all that people love to read about them raising a baby, few people seemed equally interested in reading about said baby as an adult!), but it was a story I wanted to write, so I wrote it.

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the new year? I still have high hopes of getting back to my agent search for my original novel, which is largely based on Against the Rest of the World (but goes off in its own direction, too). I also feel deeply guilty about my lack of progress (save for internal, mental process) on the cookbook of recipes from my fics that I’ve hinted strongly at! Fic-wise, I plan to just keep on doing my thing. No word minimums or specific structual goals; I just write as my muses dictate. :)

Best story of the year? It’s really apples and oranges, you know? Two of the stories I wrote this past year were deliberately intended to take a lighter touch (Home for Christmas and Out of the Woods). One was intended to be deeply romantic without the usual assortment of angst (The Book of Silence). Two were intended to delve more deeply into the emotional problems we were left with after series 4, and are naturally darker/more complicated because of that (The Bells of King’s College and In the Still of the Night). And one is something completely different (Rosa Felicia). I wouldn’t pit them against each other in a qualitative sense that way. I’m proud of all of them. Though possibly, getting John from the place he was in during TLD to the place he was in by the end of The Bells of King’s College was a particularly gymnastic feat...

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion: Ha! I think I answered that above: definitely Rosa Felicia! By a long shot.

Most fun story to write: Hmm... yeah no, I really can’t say. They were all equally fun. I will add that I learned several new skills for stories this past year. Previous years have included the learning of skills such as: enbalming a corpse, building a radiation bomb, how to blow up a bridge, many, MANY details related to international travel, etc. This year’s stories gave me an even deeper understanding of London’s restaurant scene (Out of the Woods and The Book of Silence in particular), several new words of Russian (In the Still of the Night), an in-depth knowledge of the back roads of Tyne and Wear (In the Still of the Night), how to blow up a brick (Home for Christmas), a DETAILED knowledge of various poisons and their antidotes, including how quickly both the former and latter work and in what ways (The Bells of King’s College), a lot more about wedding conferences than I’ve ever cared to know (The Bells of King’s College), pretty much every species and varietal of rose that exists (Rosa Felicia), and how most nutrition/food sciences degree programs are structured (Rosa Felicia).

Most unintentionally telling story: I honestly don’t understand this question. Telling in what sense? I always write what I write with intention. Lol.

Biggest disappointment: I think it would be safe to say that I’ve answered this one above, too. :P It’s honestly okay if you didn’t like or don’t want to read my Rosie story, lol. Promise.

Biggest surprise: That I managed to write as much as I did in what was an extremely tumultuous and difficult year, honestly. And that series 4 is fixable at all. I was in despair at the beginning of 2017 after TFP had aired. Well - full disclosure: I was in despair throughout the airing of series 4 and it just got worse and worse and worse. But it IS fixable, damn it!! It takes more work than fixing series 3 did, but I believe in both Sherlock and John, and in them together. Always. ❤❤❤❤❤❤

Tagging: any of you who write!! xoxo

#writer stuff #the year in review #sherlock #johnlock #silentauror

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kog0ruhn · 6 years ago

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A Layman’s Guide to Shriek (a.k.a. The Most Obnoxious Woman on Sornieth)

If you can’t tell, in the great big world of my clan lore, Shriek is kind of a big deal. It’s hard to believe considering that her entire appearance is absolutely ridiculous and (in my head) she sounds like a female Bobcat Goldthwait, but she’s a powerful girl with a powerful grip on The Abandoned. You know, despite the fact that she has no trade skills to speak of and (until recently) wasn’t very good at the whole “fighting” thing.

But who is Shriek and why is she so important?

Welcome to V-Sauce, where we’ll be discussing this catastrophe in-depth.

Shriek was born above the Windswept Plateau, in a den on the Cloudsong. Her parents were lenient “hippie” parents, the draconic equivalent of New Age hipsters who think that disciplining their kid in any fashion will ruin them psychologically. This doesn’t couple well with Shriek since, from an early age, she’s been a curious and impulsive noodle who is easily distracted, endlessly energetic, and more than a little destructive. Much of her childhood was spent breaking everything she touched and making other kids uncomfortable, while her parents just nodded along in the background and told their neighbors, “She’s such a precocious girl, isn’t she?”

Her best friend growing up was an older coatl named Ramses. He was a transplant from an Earth clan who lived with his adoptive family, and wound up befriending Shriek because she decided they were friends and forced it to become true. He was bigger, she was more forceful, and they wound up getting into all sorts of trouble together. Every last shred of it was Shriek’s fault but Ramses, being passive as he was, had a habit of taking the fall for a lot of it.

Eventually, Shriek’s behavior got them both kicked out of their clan when Shriek--being the absolute genius she is--lost control of herself during a race with Ramses and managed to take herself out by crashing into the Windsinger effigy. The damage was minor and fixable (though Shriek still thinks the head looks crooked), but enough was enough. Everyone came together and decided, “This shit’s gotta stop.”

Ramses was heartbroken, but Shriek decided she could do better. And “better” was “The Outlanders.”

Who are The Outlanders?

The Outlanders are one of the clans in The Abandoned alliance, though nobody really wanted them there at first. They’re the culmination of Shriek’s surprisingly silver tongue and tendency to prey on want to help the desperate. Her intentions were always good--fellow outcasts with nowhere to go made her heart ache, and she wanted to provide them with a place of safety--but her methods were borderline harassment. While the bulk of the old guard of Outlanders will say they’re fine with where they are now, they’ll be the first to admit that Shriek pestered them for days to join up with her because she’s a neurotic mess who couldn’t stand the thought of leaving folks behind.

Even if they wanted to be left behind.

Pictured: Vincent, who wanted to be left behind.

The problem with The Outlanders is that Shriek didn’t really ever take the longevity of the clan into consideration. She didn’t give a good goddamn if there were capable hunters, crafters, and tradesmen around her. She recruited based on sentiment, sympathy, and whoever she found interesting. Ramses, who was stuck with her because what else would he do, acted as her right hand and the straightman of the whole ordeal, trying to figure out how to organize things to be sustainable while Shriek grabbed loners off the street and announced they were tagging along.

It wasn’t fun and there was a metric shit-ton of turnover in the membership of the clan. Dragons were in and out like kids at a McDonald’s Playplace.

Things became a little more stable when Shriek’s entourage of oddities wound up in Dragonhome, and Ramses forced her to settle down and make some alliances before they ran out of food and supplies. It required practically pinning her down at the Altar of Naught and frantically pantomiming apologies on her behalf, but she was eventually allowed to stay because her followers displayed a variety of niche skills that piqued The Fifteen’s interest.

Pictured: The “niche interest” people were interested in, because nothing catches a politician’s interest like a goddamn assassin.

So, You Joined an Alliance? Now What?

Well, if you’re Shriek, you’re not much for politics and The Abandoned requires a lot of politicking. This new alliance meant she was now part of The Fifteen and had to attend meetings and make negotiations and generally be what Ramses had been the entire time The Outlanders existed. She had no experience and found the whole thing annoying. She found her fellow clan leaders dry and dreadful, and thought most of their ideas were shit.

In particular, she wasn’t a fan of Snap who was a lot more judgmental, strict, and generally rough to deal with. She didn’t like the fact that so many dragons in the council were afraid to stand up to her so, despite being a tiny speck compared to the impressively buff Plague Guardian screaming over everyone’s head, she started to “negotiate” by loudly disagreeing with everything Snap said. The louder Snap got, the louder Shriek got, and arguments began to eat up council minutes. Everyone found it frustrating except for Shriek who thought she was standing up for the little guy instead of stalling progress and completely missing the point that Snap--harsh as she was--was actually a very good leader who was very good at setting her emotions aside to get shit done right.

This earned her a bit of a reputation as an annoyance and a troublemaker, and made it difficult for The Outlanders to really get anything out of joining The Abandoned. Ramses would occasionally attempt to go behind Shriek’s back and make deals, but Shriek usually managed to botch things anyway. Nobody liked her, everyone hated her, her own clan began to talk about mutiny as time wound on. Folks wanted to appoint Ramses leader or leave altogether.

Then, uh... Flauros happened right when things started to get real nasty.

The Fuck’s a Flauros?

That Looks Bad.

That is bad.

Flauros is a dragon who isn’t a dragon. She’s Shade-based, had no real mind of her own, and just randomly started destroying The Abandoned in a controlled attack that I’ve discussed a lot on my Flight Rising blog. The long and short of it is that a couple of asshole Mirrors who knew their magic managed to steal a summoned creature (Flauros) from her master, then used her to commit mass murder while making it appear as though she was doing it on her own. Lots of dragons died, entire clans were destroyed, The Fifteen became significantly less than Fifteen, and Shriek proved her mettle by using her context clues to solve the mystery, unmask the baddie, and then steal Flauros and use her to absolutely obliterate the Scooby-Doo villain at the end.

This should have marked Shriek as a hero and, in a lot of ways, it did. People realized fairly quick that without Shriek’s abstract way of thinking, stubbornness, curiosity, and attention to detail, that The Abandoned probably would have been wiped off the face of the earth. The problem is that, when all was said and done, Shriek--now wielding the enchanted amulet that Flauros was bound to--refused to turn it over to the bigger, better authorities so that they could get rid of Flauros once and for all.

There’s a number of reasons for her refusal. One was that, after years of being ridiculed and treated badly by The Fifteen (which was, honestly, her fault), she loved having something that made her the de facto strongest of the lot. Flauros and the acquisition of Flauros were proof that she was a competent dragon and gave her a nice shrield against her detractors. Secondly, she was maybe a little motivated by the fact that it pissed Snap off since Snap blatantly abused her authority and influence during the fight against Flauros (which, admittedly, worked out in The Abandoned’s favor and was done because she thought it was the best course of action).

Third was the biggest reason: It was very hard for Shriek to not think of Flauros as a dragon no matter how many times she was told that Flauros was definitely not a dragon. It looked and talked like a dragon, and nothing that happened was actually Flauros’ fault. The idea of her being “killed” for something she wasn’t responsible for made Shriek’s stomach turn, and she felt it was her personal responsibility to save her since she’s the one who “rescued” her in the first place.

And How Did That Turn Out?

What Does That Mean?

Flauros began to become a lot like Shriek. And Shriek began to become a lot like Flauros.

Because of the psychological impact that Shade energy has on dragons and Flauros now being bound to Shriek, she began to change. She was still excitable and energetic, but a lot of folks noted that Shriek was also more serious, dutiful, and even hostile. Actions she used to make out of spite were abandoned (for instance, she started working with Snap pretty easily), but any slight against her was met with rage. There was something dark boiling in that little green noodle, and everyone, even Shriek, knew Flauros was responsible for it.

The flip side was that Flauros started becoming sentient, and with that sentience she became mischievous, curious, and developed a strong sense of justice. Traits that a lot of people associated with Shriek.

It evens out in a lot of ways.

The fortunate part of Shriek’s change in demeanor is that it made her more capable when shit hit the fan in the wake of Flauros’ rampage, when a nasty little Spiral named Elder decided to stir up some civil unrest and then lead a charge against The Abandoned while their pants were down. Even though The Outlanders (and Shriek specifically) were exiled from the alliance, she kept her wits about her in a situation where she’d normally lose her mind. Then, grabbing Flauros by the horns, she cornered Elder in a cave and brought it down on top of him.

Not Flauros, as everyone thinks. Shriek. Shriek collapsed a cavern on top of another Spiral to keep him from murdering everyone to death.

So, Does This Mean She’s a Hero Again?

Yes, mostly. Folks are still wary of her moodswings and Flauros, but you can’t really not treat the girl who saved your ass twice with respect.

And so Shriek still sits with The Fifteen, her clan was allowed back into the alliance, Flauros is mostly left alone, and she spends her days doing Shriek things as per usual. She’s starting to act more like herself again, albeit with a bit of a dark turn, and Ramses is just glad he can spend more time with his daughter than managing the PR nightmare that is his boss.

But know that when danger rears its ugly head again, Shriek is probably going to be the first one on the front lines because, much like the honey badger of yore, Shriek don’t give a shit.

#dragon: shriek #very long hair #clan lore

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