#At Jordan College and Oxford

[a-adventurer]

Open starter for His Dark Materials AU for Scarlett

Scarlett was sitting up on the roofs of Jordan College, looking at the view. Even as a young woman, it didn't stop her adventurous spirit. She bit into a plum and ignored the plum juice that ran down her hand. "What should we do today Tearlach?" she asked.

"We should probably head back. Your mother will be worried." he huffed.

"Technically she's our mother." Scarlett said, looking around.

[three-atoms]

Illustrations for HDM: Northern Lights

By Nadiia Doicheva

[alethiometry]

my kingdom for an ac/hdm crossover

[david-sankey]

"His Dark Materials" on telly started with Lyra Belacqua running round "Jordan College" Oxford. There was no Jordan College, but the name was partly influenced by Jericho, where there was an iron works (Lucy's - Eagle Works) and a wharf.   It's now very much gentrified, & I saw that Morse narrowly missed a mucky film at the "Studio Two" flix  (Phoenix Picturehouse now) in a repeated episode recently..... Anyroad, Lucy's gone and the wharf is being redeveloped . There's been a Loooong campaign and there still is, for the redevelopment to be done responsibly (the most minimal of minimum demands) and despite a unanimous rejection by the council of the developers proposals - they have taken the site to Planning Appeal  https://www.jerichowharf.com/news/news_item/time-for-a-turndown .   (photo shows St Barnabas Church behind Jericho Wharf) 

[twisted-turtels]

Crossed Paths (Pt. 3)

Farleigh Start x black!fem!oc

Author’s note: Ooh things are getting a little bit heated. Also lmk if i should start putting warnings or anything. And leave me feedback as well. I like to know how other people feel about it.

1626 words

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Crossed Paths

‘im outside,’ Farleigh texts.

Jordan looks at her phone, quickly checking her outfit in the mirror before leaving. She walked down the stairs and noticed Farleigh waiting outside, leaning on the lamppost.

“Hi, stranger,” Jordan announces herself. 

“Hey, Jordy,” Farleigh says softly. 

“So where’s this bar at, or shall I say ‘pub,’” Jordan laughs to herself, “I’m hilarious.”

Farleigh looks at her in faux disgust, “Americans, tsk.”

“What, I’m funny,” Jordan responds as Farleigh stares at her, “Mmm, tough crowd, I guess.”

“Anyways, the bar is about a ten-minute walk, so we’ll be there soon, but try to keep up. I know you have short legs,” Farleigh jokes.  

“Maybe if one of your strides didn’t equal ten feet, I wouldn’t have to rush so bad,” Jordan rolls her eyes and whispers, “Big ass feet.”

Farleigh gasps, “ I heard that. You can find the bar by yourself.” He walks away dramatically.

“Wait!” Jordan throws her hand out as she tries to catch up with him, “Don’t leave me!”

Farleigh and Jordan enter ‘King’s Arm.’ 

“Farleigh! Jordan!” Venetia yells while waving her hand.

The two walk up to the siblings. “We already bought a round of drinks,” Felix explains, “Take your pick.”

“I’ve never had beer before,” Jordan says.

“You’re 19, and you’ve never drank before?” Venetia asks

“You have to be 21 to drink in America, Vee, but who’s to say I’ve never drank before?” Jordan continues, “There’s a lot y’all don’t know about me.”

Farleigh leans forward and rests his head in his hands, “Well then, tell us more about yourself.” 

The group stares at Jordan expectingly. 

“Uh,” Jordan looks around nervously, “Well, firstly, stop staring at me like that.”

The group laughs, “Sorry. You can continue,” Felix insists.

“Well. I’m 19. I was born on April 1 in Houston, Texas. I live with my mom in Houston. My favorite things to do are read, write, and play the Sims 2,” She ponders, “My home university is Rice University in Houston. Still, I’m here for an exchange program. I’ll be here for a year, so…” Jordan trails off.

“Rice is an Ivy League, isn’t it?” Farleigh asks. 

“Yeah, my SAT was 1500, I graduated high school with a 4.0 GPA, and I won numerous writing competitions,” Jordan states. The group looks at her in disbelief, “Not to brag or anything,” she clarifies.

“I think you’re the smartest one out of all of us,” Venetia says.

“Don’t say that,” Jordan laughs, her tone slightly uneasy. 

“No, really, you’re extremely intelligent. Oxford is going to be easy for you, I promise.” Farleigh reassures. 

The group continues to converse until the end of the night, gradually getting louder and more comfortable with each other.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan and Farleigh walk around the town square to pass the time. “Are you going home for Christmas?” Farleigh wonders.

“Farleigh, I just got here. Tickets are way too expensive to return for Christmas. I’ll probably go back sometime in the springtime,” Jordana responds, “What about you?”

“No, I’m staying here. That brings me to ask, do you want to go to the college Christmas party in two weeks,” Farleigh asks while taking out a cigarette, “Do you smoke?”

“No, I smoke other things, though,” Jordan responds with a slight smirk.

Farleigh stares at her curiously, “Like, what?”

Jordan gives a deadpan look, “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Lucky for you, there will be much of that at the party. So is that a yesss?’ Farleigh continuously pokes Jordan.

“Oh my god, yes, I’ll be at the party,” Jordan says while laughing.

“Good, I can’t wait. Now, let’s get you home.”

Jordan and Farleigh continue walking to her apartment while joking with each other. As they strolled through the dimly lit streets, the banter between Jordan and Farleigh continued, filling the night air with laughter. 

Two weeks later

“Farleigh, I have to do math tutoring with this asshole in my class. He’s so annoying, like, why is it mandatory for exchange students to do this shit?” Jordan holds her phone between her ear and shoulder while cleaning her apartment.

Farleigh chuckles on the other line, “Who’s the unlucky guy to be graced with your presence?”

“Firstly, die. Secondly, his name is Michael or something. He thinks he’s hot shit because he can do his times table in his head. Do y’all not realize I passed my SAT with a 1500? I’m no dummy. I can’t believe-” Jordan rants until Farleigh cuts in, “Michael Gavey? Yeah, I don’t like him. I think he’s even friends with Oliver.”

“Ugh, of course, they know each other. Honestly, if I have to hear one of Oliver’s lackluster essays again, I think I would rip my eardrums out.” Jordan complains.

“Right on sista,” Farleigh exclaims 

Jordan changes the subject, “So party starts at nine, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place around 9:30. You’ll have more than enough time to be ready,” Farleigh confirms. 

“Ooh, I’m so excited. My first English party. My outfit is so cute, oh my gosh. I can’t wait till y’all see it,” Jordan talks excitedly.

“You look good in anything, Jordy. I can’t wait to see it either.”

“Stop, you’re making me blush over the phone. But thanks, Farleigh, I appreciate the compliment.” Jordan says with a laugh.

“I’m just saying. So see you at 9:30,” Farleigh asks for confirmation.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jordan says before hanging up, excitement bubbling for her first English party.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Jordan walks outside and sees Farleigh, Venetia, and Felix all smoking while waiting for her. She lightly jogs over to them.

“Hi, guys!” Jordan exclaims.

“Oh Jordan, you look so pretty,” Ventia yells, “Do a spin for us.”

Jordan grins and obliges, twirling around.

“You look beautiful, Jordy,” Farleigh says.

“Thanks, Farleigh,” Jordan blushes.

“Did you make the dress yourself,” Felix asks as the group walks towards the commons building.

“Only part of it. The dress didn’t come with the fluffy stuff on it, so I had to sew that on real quick,” Jordan explains.

“A woman of many trades, I see,” Felix jokes.

As they continue walking towards the party, they hear the music getting louder. Farleigh walks next to Jordan and leans down to whisper in her ear, “I got in contact with someone to get you what you want.”

She looks up at him sideways, “Why are you whispering? It's just weed.”

Farleigh stands straight and clears his throat, “I like to be mysterious. Adds to the thrill.”

Jordan chuckles, “Fair enough. How much do they charge?”

“Usually 40, but I got it down to 25,” Farleigh says. 

Jordan pats on his chest, “Good job,” She grabs his hand, “Let’s go inside.” They share a laugh as they enter the lively atmosphere of the party. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The group enters the party, immediately engulfed by the pulsating beat of the music. The room is filled with students chatting, dancing, and enjoying the festive atmosphere. Venetia heads straight to the dance floor, pulling Felix along while Farleigh and Jordan make their way to the bar. 

“Are they playing Beyonce,” Jordan yells over the loud music.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Farleigh responds just as loudly.

“Is Lucas here,” Farleigh asks the bartender. “Yeah, he’s over there,” the bartender points to the corner where Lucas stands with friends.

“We’ll be back,” Farleigh yells at the bartender, “Have a round ready.” The bartender nods.

Farleigh grabs Jordan’s hand and pulls her over to Lucas. “Farleigh, what’s up,” Lucas yells.

“You know what I’m here for,” Farleigh digs in his pocket and pulls out 25£.

Lucas looks down at Farleigh’s hand and takes the cash. “Of course,” he puts something in Farleigh's hand.

Farleigh sees four pre-rolls. He nods at Lucas before he and Jordan walk back to the bar.

“Here you go,” Farleigh places two rolls in Jordan’s hand, “You even have one for later.”

“I didn’t think you were gonna pay for them. I’ll pay you back,” Jordan said, putting one of the joints to her lips. “Do you have a lighter?”

“Yeah,” Farleigh takes out his lighter and brings the lighter up to Jordan’s joint. Farleigh holds the flame steady as Jordan leans in, her eyes locked onto his. The soft glow from the lighter emphasizes the features of her face. Has she always had a mole there?

The air between them cackles with an unspoken tension.

As Jordan pulled away, a small smile on her lips, she exhaled the smoke in Farleigh’s face. Farleigh blinks, momentarily caught off guard. 

“Let’s take a shot,” she insists as she grabs a glass. 

“Uh yeah,” Farleigh grabs a glass.

 “Cheers,” They both yell out.

“Now let’s dance,” Farleigh grabs Jordan’s hand and leads her to the dance floor with Venetia and Felix. 

The group loses themselves in the rhythmic movement, the colorful lights casting a vibrant glow on their laughter-filled faces. Jordan’s moves are graceful, drawing Farleigh’s attention. Farleigh, matching her energy, moves in sync with the music. They dance close to each other, Jordan’s back on Farleigh’s chest. Jordan turns around, facing Farleigh, who puts his hands around her waist. Jordan takes another drag of her joint and pulls Farleigh’s face closer to hers, their lips almost grazing as she blows the smoke into his mouth. 

Farleigh breathes in and exhales slowly, “What are you doing to me?” he whispers.

“What do you mean,” Jordan teases with faux innocence before turning around and leaving to dance with Venetia.

Felix walks up to Farleigh, a knowing grin on his face. Farleigh looks at him and rolls his eyes, “Don’t say anything.”

“I didn’t even say any-” Felix starts.

“Shut up.”

The night unfolds with laughter, music, and the undeniable tension between Jordan and Farleigh. 

[saltwaterandstars]

JOMP BPC - 6th February - Red books

I love this little cloth-bound book. It's the colour of rubies (or blood!) and includes a fold-out map of Oxford showing Jordan College, of course, as well as the Royal Mail Zeppelin Station and other important Oxford locations. There are adverts on the back of the map for travel books (e.g. Star-Maps of the Yenisei Region by D. V. Mikuschev) and catalogues of equipment for travellers (e.g. the Far Horizon Catalogue of Camping Equipment which includes tents, camp beds and naptha lamps). It's such a pleasing object.

[humnooshop]

Jordan College, Oxford

T-shirt and other products are available on my Redbubble :)

[waterloggedsoliloquy]

@theluckoftheclaws said: How do you determine the right animal [for a character's dæmon] (genuine question)

You have unleashed levels of autism the likes of which the world has never seen, jsyk!

Dæmons are not really "this character is sarcastic and lithe and finnicky so they'd be symbolized with a cat". Dæmons are largely determined by their role and symbolism in *art*, and what art it's drawn from depends on where in the story Lyra is. It also depends on their role in the story as a character somebody invented for a purpose. They say that dæmons are your soul that reveals your inner nature, but that's in-universe conjecture. One widely accepted as fact, but one that the narrator never fully claims is true. It's important to remember that characters are tools in a story, and dæmons are signifiers of that role, much in the same way that medieval paintings depicted animal companions alongside humans, to evoke a cultural, spiritual and historical context. To quote Pullman himself: don't make a metaphor do the work of a fact.

For example, in the medieval Oxford, the dæmons all take the form of animals that would have been known to medieval scholars, and their implications carry their symbolic meanings of the time. Jordan college is full of ravens, moths ermines, cats, hawks, setters, and serpents-- and also there are a few creatures, such as basilisks and small dragons-- that would have been imaginary to us but very real to medieval scholars. The only dæmon not of European origin is Lord Asriel's dæmon Stelmaria, who is in the form of a snow leopard,  evoking Asriel's infatuation with the North and giving us a subtle clue about the fact that he fits poorly in Jordan society. It's not until Lyra meets Mrs. Coulter and goes to London that the variety of dæmons expands, and when it does it expands into the art of the rennaissance and Flemish art. Pugs, parrots, monkeys, and butterflies are found in London. When Lyra travels north, she meets people with wolf and snow goose and snowshoe hare dæmons.

Ermines represent young girls born into nobility and their spiritual purity, so Lyra, who is innocent and nobleborn, often has Pantalaimon in the shape of an ermine. The fact that weasels are considered sneaky liars (as Lyra is) comes secondary to me, in my personal opinion. The servants in The Golden Compass are described as all having dog dæmons, because Lyra's world operates on a strict hierarchy of class, and the Butler and Chamberlain are all servants of a story, not really fully-fleshed characters in their own right. Conversely the characters like Asriel and Coulter have very "noble" animals associated with high class and exoticism: the aforementioned snow leopard and golden monkey. Dæmons are also amoral-- they don't indicate heroism or villainy. If Pullman made every bad guy's dæmon an animal that we have negative association with, loaded them with snakes and bugs, then everyone in the world could immediate clock who a "bad person" is just by the shape of their dæmon, and life just does not work like that.

If you want to choose a dæmon for a character, you have to take into account the genre you're working in. Poetry (The creator of the Dæmorphing series) utilizes a more scientific approach, matching characters' dæmons to observed animal behavior and biology. This works very well for Animorphs fanfiction, which has a huge emphasis on zoology and the natural talents and traits of animals... and very little to do with art and history and fantasy. But if your work is more on the historical or fantasy side, I'd suggest looking into the symbolic meanings of animals in specific cultures and periods of time to inform your choices. This historical and cultural context is why I'd find it ludicrously difficult to make dæmons for, say, the Star Wars cast, because all the animals in that universe are Imaginary, and even the ones based on real-life animals lack the social+historical+cultural context of dæmons. So I could give them earth animals, but is that immersion breaking? Probably. Same goes for Pokémon.

This level of involvement and research and intertext is usually too complicated for your average ao3 chud though, so you open a fic and you're more than likely to see dæmons pulled from a pool of the same 15 or so animals. So many wolves.... so many big cats........

If it's a series and character i'm familiar with, i'm more than willing to offer suggestions for potential forms! I literally possess several bestiaries and books on animal symbolism.

[blueiscoool]

When did Rome fall?

Many historians consider the fall of the Western Roman Empire to have been when the emperor Romulus Augustulus abdicated, but not all historians agree.

The "Fall of Rome" usually refers to the collapse of the Western Roman Empire in the fifth century A.D. But historians don't agree about the exact date, nor about its causes. And some historians argue that the Roman Empire lasted until it fell in the East, centuries later.

At its height around A.D. 100, the Roman Empire stretched from modern Britain, France and much of Germany in the northwest to Egypt, Israel and Jordan in the southeast, and from what are now Morocco and Spain to Romania, Armenia and Iraq. Later emperors divided it into more manageable pieces, resulting in the Western and Eastern Roman Empires. But by the end of the fifth century A.D., the Western Roman Empire, from Britain to Italy, had collapsed and been replaced by a patchwork of "barbarian" kingdoms.

"Part fell to invaders, and part disintegrated," Bryan Ward-Perkins, a historian at the University of Oxford and author of "The Fall of Rome and the End of Civilization" (Oxford University Press, 2006),said in an email. "What difference this made to people on the ground is disputed."

SACK OF ROME, A.D. 410

Some historians regard Aug. 24, 410, as the decisive date of the fall of Rome. On this date, an army of Visigoths sacked the city of Rome — the first time since it had been overrun by Gauls during the early Roman Republic, almost 800 years earlier. The Visigoths (Western Goths) had fled the Huns' invasions of Eastern Europe in the fourth century. But in 378, after defeating a Roman army at the Battle of Adrianople (now Edirne, Turkey), the Visigoths were given lands on the empire's northern border to control and guard themselves from invaders. However, a few decades later, they again began marauding the empire; in 408, they invaded Italy, and in 410, they besieged and sacked Rome.

By this time, the Roman Empire was centered in Constantinople in the east, and even Western Roman emperors lived in Milan (then called Mediolanum) or Ravenna in northern Italy. But Rome was the "eternal city" and the sacred heart of the empire, and many of the empire’s inhabitants saw this as the end. "The cultural shock was resounding … but the practical impact seems limited," William Bowden, a professor of Roman archaeology at the University of Nottingham in the United Kingdom, said.

As city sackings go, it doesn't sound too bad: Many famous monuments and buildings were untouched, and because the Visigoths were Christians, they allowed people to take refuge in churches. The Visigoths withdrew from Italy a few years later.

ABDICATION OF ROMULUS AUGUSTULUS, A.D. 476

Some historians regard the formal end of the Western Roman Empire as taking place decades later, on Sept. 4, 476, when Odoacer, the first barbarian king of Italy, forced the young emperor Romulus Augustulus to abdicate. Odoacer had been a Roman general of Germanic descent who professed loyalty to the Eastern Roman emperor, and he took Romulus captive at Ravenna after defeating the 16-year-old's father in battle. Odoacer didn't kill Romulus, however; because of his youth, he was instead given a pension and sent to live with relatives. (Odoacer ruled from Ravenna until 493, when he was killed by an invading Ostrogoth — Eastern Goth — army under their leader, Theodoric the Great, who established a powerful new kingdom in Italy.)

"It's kind of an important moment," Peter Heather, a historian at King's College London and author of "The Fall of the Roman Empire: A New History of Rome and the Barbarians" (Oxford University Press, 2007) said. "Odoacer sent the imperial vestments of the West back to Constantinople, along with delegation from the Senate of Rome, and the delegation says, 'There's no longer any need for an emperor in the West.'"

By this time, many regions of the Western empire were already effectively independent kingdoms, but "if you're looking for a symbolic moment, it's a pretty good one," Heather said.

EMPIRE IN THE EAST

By the fifth century A.D., however, the focus of the empire had shifted east to Constantinople, now Istanbul. Once the Greek city of Byzantium, the city was rebuilt in A.D. 330 by the emperor Constantine the Great, who transferred the imperial capital to his "New Rome."

"My own view is that the eastern half of the Roman Empire is still the Roman Empire," Heather said. "It's not unchanging, but there is a sort of continuity of change, not any great rupture."

Although Constantinople fell to the Turks in 1453, Heather sees its decline in the Arab invasions from 632 until 661, when they captured Egypt, the Levant, and parts of Anatolia from the Eastern Roman Empire. "The Arabs take about three-quarters of the empire's revenue and about three-quarters of its territory," he said. "It's a totally different kind of entity after the Arab conquest. … it reduces the empire from a global power to a regional power."

By Tom Metcalfe.

[totallyhussein-blog]

Lawrence of Arabia. The man, the myth and the facts

Few British soldiers have a greater legend attached to them than Colonel TE Lawrence - better known as Lawrence of Arabia. His military and diplomatic efforts have drawn some distinction.

But it is Lawrence’s immense cultural impact in the century since his First World War exploits that has attracted the most attention.

Thomas Edward Lawrence was born in Tremadog, Wales on 16th August 1888. From a young age he exhibited an active interest in architecture, monuments and antiquities.

Between 1907 and 1910, Lawrence studied History at Jesus College, Oxford. During this time, he toured France by bicycle, collecting photographs, drawings and measurements of medieval castles.

This would form the basis of his dissertation. In 1909, he completed a remarkable solo 1,000-mile trek through Ottoman Syria visiting Crusader castles.

Following his studies, Lawrence became an archaeologist. He worked in Egypt, Palestine and Syria, at that time all part of the Ottoman Empire.

This first-hand knowledge and experience earned him a posting to Cairo after he enlisted in the British Army in October 1914. He served in the intelligence staff of the British Middle East Command in the First World War campaign against the Turks.

Seven Pillars of Wisdom is a biographical account of T.E. Lawrence's experiences during the Arab Revolt of 1916–18, when he was based in Wadi Rum (now a part of Jordan) as a member of the British Forces.

With the support of Emir Faisal and his tribesmen, he helped organize and carry out attacks on the Ottoman forces from Aqaba in the south to Damascus in the north. You can also listen to Seven Pillars of Wisdom on Audible.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

BY AMANDA MARCOTTE

Republicans know exactly what they believe is the greatest threat to American students: books.

In Florida, the possibility of a student choosing a book to read was deemed so threatening that teachers were ordered to lock up all the books until they could be — slowly, painfully — combed over by censors. Now, as the censors make their way through the books at a snail's pace, word of what has been officially banned from shelves thus far is starting to trickle out. Unsurprisingly, in a state controlled by a retentive fascist like Gov. Ron DeSantis, the books deemed too dangerous to read mostly involve ideas like "gay couples exist" and "there was once a civil rights movement." As Tom Fontaine of Trib Live reports:

"PEN America, a New York-based nonprofit that works to defend free expression, reported the district had removed at least 176 titles from classrooms. They include works such as ‘My Two Dads and Me,’ ‘My Two Moms and Me,’ ‘Celebrating Different Beliefs,’ ‘The Gift of Ramadan,’ ‘The Berenstain Bears and the Big Question’ and books about Rosa Parks, the Underground Railroad and Japanese internment camps during World War II.

Also removed was ‘Roberto Clemente: The Pride of the Pittsburgh Pirates,’ a 2005 book by Dormont's Jonah Winter.

The 32-page book references racism Clemente sometimes endured."

Republicans are also deeply worried that a child might enjoy a drag queen story hour, in which drag performers use their skills at entertaining a crowd to get kids excited about reading. The threat that a funny person in a flashy costume might make a child happy is such that Republicans in state legislatures are considering bans so draconian that they could criminalize merely being a trans person in public or wearing makeup on a stage.

Of course, considering the Republican hostility to children reading, the "story hour" may be as offensive to them as the "drag" part.

The nation woke on Tuesday to familiar news that doesn't get any less disturbing, despite being painfully common. There was another mass shooting, this time at Michigan State. A gunman left three dead and five more critically injured. This is in a year where there has been an average of more than one mass shooting a day. At least one of the survivors of this latest shooting also survived a mass shooting 14 months ago at Oxford High School.

At this point, the Republican callousness to the carnage is so baked in that it barely feels worth remarking upon. Nor is this just a matter, as so many claim, of Republicans being too "afraid" of the NRA to stand up for meaningful gun safety laws. As I've written about before, there's plenty of reason to believe that the reason Republicans block most efforts to prevent mass shootings is that they benefit politically from both the feelings of helplessness and social decay that such shootings sow in the public.

"Please don't tell me you care about the safety of children if you are not willing to have a conversaion about keeping them safe in a place that should be a sanctuary," Democratic Rep. Elissa Slotkin, who represents the Michigan district the shooting happened in, said during an emotionally raw press conference Tuesday morning. She didn't need to elaborate on who claims to "care" about children but certainly does not.

We've been subject to a yearslong effort to ban books and gut the rights of LGBTQ people, all justified by GOP claims to be "protecting" children. The College Board, under pressure from DeSantis and the larger Republican establishment, has even gone so far as to remove books by renowned writers and poets like bell hooks, June Jordan, and Ta-Nehisi Coates from an African-American studies course. The excuse is that the fragile self-esteem of white students cannot withstand learning about the realities of racism.

But while Republicans fret and moan over the supposed damage done to students' minds by learning that racism happens or LGBTQ people exist, the much more real danger that comes from a bullet tearing through a body is not considered a priority. In the Republican imagination, a high school or college student is too delicate to read about the Holocaust or slavery, but should also be tough enough to stand up to an armed madman mowing down kids with a semiautomatic weapon. And if such kids do survive the kind of graphic violence that Republicans believe they're too sensitive to read about, then such kids are also expected to be tough enough to endure members of Congress like Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene, R-Ga., denying the violence ever happened and harassing those who survived it.

After last year's shooting in Uvalde, Texas — which left 19 kids and two teachers dead — a handful of Republicans decided it was becoming politically untenable to maintain the "thoughts and prayers, but nothing can be done" position that has characterized the party for so long. So 15 Republican Senators crossed the aisle to vote for a gun safety bill last June. The Beltway media, longing for a narrative of bipartisan comity, swooned rapturously over this supposed evolution away from sociopathic disregard towards gun violence towards something more humane.

But, at the cost of sounding overly cynical, the whole thing was probably more of a ploy to get people off their backs than anything else.

For one thing, for every Senate Republican who did vote for the bill, there were more than two who refused. Second, while there were some good items in the law that President Joe Biden signed last summer — especially closing the "boyfriend" loophole that let domestic abusers buy guns — the legislation stops well short of what's needed to keep guns out of the hands of unhinged people who want to shoot up nightclubs, schools, and shopping malls.

To make it worse, what little Republicans are willing to do in Congress is in real danger of being dismantled by Republicans in the federal courts.

The same week Congress passed their watered-down gun safety bill, the six Republican Supreme Court justices overturned a New York state law that is over 100 years old, which restricted who can carry guns in public. As Slate's legal expert Mark Joseph Stern wrote at the time, the decision rests on "a maximalist opinion by Justice Clarence Thomas that renders most of the nation's gun control laws presumptively unconstitutional."

Sure enough, other Republican-controlled federal courts took note. Earlier this month, the Fifth Circuit used Thomas's decision as a pretext to rule against a law barring domestic abusers from owning guns. This law not only protects the lives of women who are being stalked by former partners, but it's useful in preventing mass shootings. Over half of mass shooters had a known history of domestic violence. Sadly, many of them were able to commit their crimes by taking advantage of the pro-gun, anti-woman views of local Republican politicians, who won't enforce existing gun laws. That appears, for instance, to be the case in the Club Q shooting in Colorado Springs in December. The suspect had been previously arrested after a reported domestic violence incident involving his mother, but the right-wing sheriff who had bragged about being a gun rights absolutist did not enforce a law allowing the government to take the shooter's guns from him.

When faced with the carnage that their gun fanaticism inflicts on our nation, Republicans will often pretend that their hands are tied by the constitution. The GOP cowards who rule against the ban on wife beaters owning guns used this excuse. The court claimed there is no "historical tradition of firearm regulation" regarding domestic violence and that therefore they are forced — forced I tell you! — to believe the Second Amendment's language about a "well-regulated militia" somehow covers unregulated, non-militia wife beaters.

This feigned constitutional absolutism is ridiculous on its face. It's even more obviously a lie in the context of GOP enthusiasm for book banning. Unlike the Second Amendment, which puts strong limits ("well-regulated militia") on the right to bear arms, the First Amendment grants Americans expansive rights to free speech. It very clearly states that there should be "no law...abridging the freedom of speech." That's without caveat, unlike the Second Amendment. And there are certainly no exceptions for "unless it offends the bigoted sentiments of Ron DeSantis."

Most of all, of course, this exposes how Republicans are only interested in controlling students, not protecting them. The threat of the targeted books is not to students, who will only benefit from learning more about the world around them. The threat is to the fragile egos of the right-wing bigots who make up the Republican base. This focus on control also explains the GOP's disinterest in doing anything to save students from mad gunmen. They may be saddened by a dead child, but they aren't threatened by them. A murdered child, after all, is unlikely to think for themselves, much less grow up to vote against Republicans. And ultimately, that's all the GOP is really worried about when they talk about "the children."

[freuleinanna]

trials (and errors)

Chapter 1

AO3

Chapter 2: Traces

Sailors that nearly drown at sea end up either longing for it or hating it. Sometimes both.

Asriel wakes at dawn, and because unfortunate circumstances like that tend to pile up, his neck is killing him.

He sits up with a groan, straining it until the joints give a dry crack and the muscles loosen somewhat. Rubbing the stiffness away. Would be great to do the same with his whole body. Pathetically short sofa doesn't offer much of a sleeping place, though yesterday, it didn't matter where he would black out, he just needed to not exist for a while.

On the floor, Stelmaria yawns and stretches. Her tail brushes against his legs as she does her obligatory circling of the territory. Asriel snorts.

'Vigilant as ever.'

'We slept through an intruder.'

He perks his head – hope doomed before he has a chance to crush it – but the intruder reveals himself immediately, and it's only Thorold. Behind content, a sting of disappointment. His heart is angry with itself for it.

'Sir,' Thorold greets him, getting up from the fireplace full of dying coals; his pinscher bows his head to Stelmaria in respect. 'You came in late.'

He crosses the large living room – although, to be fair, it's hardly suitable for any sort of actual 'living'. Wood and stone, and as much furniture as Asriel can possibly not be frustrated with, which isn't a lot. Northern man, northern home. House, more like, given how much time he spends elsewhere.

A questioning look comes from the old man. Asriel nods dryly. Behind his eyebrows, a headache is crouching – relentless whopping of a gyropter will do that to you. Last night returns in flashes: gyptians, Jordan, flying, flood, not necessarily in the right order. Somewhere among those flashes is the baby, too, a tiny little bundle that had kept on screaming in two tiny little voices until the gyropter took off and the sense of flying seemingly lulled them. For a moment, that bundle draws all thoughts in the room – but only for a moment, because it's all been taken care of and doesn't matter now. In Oxford, the old college wakes aiming its spires to the sky as proudly as ever, having hardly noticed a stowaway hidden in its womb.

Ending the silent conversation, Thorold nods in return. What luck to have a servant who needs no words.

'What time is it?' Asriel squints at the far window, the drapes too thick to see. Couldn't be too late, but then his body doesn't offer any insights except that he's slept ridiculously little.

'Just after dawn, Sir.'

'Good.'

'Will you have something to eat?'

Quick as quicksilver – and of the same pearly, opalescent mien – Stelmaria turns to him with a warning growl, sensing he's about to refuse. Asriel holds up a cautious hand. Then sighs. Refusing would take words, and though usually words spill out of him, never it shortage, today he has none. And what he has, he has to spare for later.

'Sure,' his knuckles rub against a stubbled cheek as he contemplates shaving but decides against it. What do you know, he might even gain points for looking like shit. 'Why not.'

Quieter than a ghost, Thorold disappears. Waiting for him to fetch some food could be a much-needed moment of rest, yet Asriel is seized by eagerness for movement. It rattles and throbs, and grows more urgent by the second, forcing him up. He stretches properly, with the whole chest. His clothes still haven't fully dried. He should have changed them right away – but oh, what of it now. Damp twill of his trousers is giving off a smell that isn't completely unlike that of Stelmaria's wet fur – the leopard arches her back at comparison. If she could raise an eyebrow, she hundred percent would.

He walks aimlessly, just to walk, to shake off the numbness of his limbs. Some restlessness drives him that's crawled up inside and needs to keep going. Remnants of the journey past, Asriel figures, but not only that. He frowns to himself. Agitation of the day ahead, too.

'Don't think about it,' Stelmaria rustles in a velvety voice. 'You'll only make it worse.'

'A bunch of faith-humpers poking around in what's entirely my business, what's not to like,' he snaps back.

Not entirely yours, it could have been a thought they shared, or a snarl so quiet it barely passed the hearing threshold. Stelmaria follows him around the room; Asriel stops to scrutinize her expression. She looks up – her gaze is pale blue, open with a kind of openness he can't really allow to himself. His posture changes. Shoulders grow wider, fists burrow deeper in his pockets. Stelmaria knows that authoritative, expectant look very well and whisks her tail in irritation, but doesn’t do much else. With a set jaw, Asriel turns to continue walking, knowing his daemon got the message to stop bringing up the dead.

When he’s on what seems his twentieth round about the room, Thorold comes back with a tray. He doesn't bat an eye at his master stealing a plate of eggs and bacon ��� or rather, mostly bacon – from it, and moves from his path to set the table near the fireplace. The smell of strong coffee brings an unexpected reminder of how long things haven't been normal around here. Then, a burst of buried anger. No, things weren't normal before either, they were just in a certain way – a way he liked.

Mental note: cutting the past one string at a time hurts like a motherf–

Chewing on a hot bacon strip, he plunges into the chair.

'I'll need a change of clothes.'

'Very well, Sir,' Thorold bows his head in acknowledgment. He doesn't leave, however, lingering near the table like some servants do when they're about to ask an extremely uncomfortable favor of their masters. It’s jarringly unlike him. The man has always had enough self-respect – and Asriel’s respect – to speak freely. Asriel shoots him a look from under the brows.

'Well?'

'I was wondering...'

'Then stop and ask.'

Thorold draws air, in doubt.

'Will you see her today?'

What a gut-punch. Instinctively, his body tenses up against the pain – if someone had actually thrown a jab at him, it might have even worked. Slowly releasing his breath, Asriel gives a side-glance to Stelmaria: she slides closer with the same look as the one hiding in Thorold's face. Like they're trying to feign indifference while desperately fishing for news.

He licks grease off his fingers, pours some coffee into a cup, and takes a big gulp before setting on to answer.

'Yes, I will.'

We will, he reads in his daemon's eyes, a hint of excitement waking something cruel in him. She shouldn't feel this way. They shouldn’t.

'What will you do?'

That, he doesn't bother replying to.

Neither does he blame Thorold for asking, to be honest, although it irritates him that he asks. The old man always had a soft spot for Marisa in his heart, something Asriel believed to be of nostalgic nature. Born up the north in some fisherman's village, Thorold would tell his younger master countless stories of the sea: how it whispers to the moon at full tide, the way fog comes slithering up the shore from the greatest blue; where the legends are born and what monsters are sleeping in the depths. From mundane to mystical, he loved all of it. No wonder Marisa compelled him. If names bear any marks on people, she was the embodiment of hers.

The silent affection wasn't all that prominent, but Thorold's eyes never failed to grow warmer at her sight. Scary when it rages, but just a child otherwise, he once said. Of the sea. Or Marisa. Asriel never quite figured.

And yet – and yet.

Her traces ran everywhere, taking everything that wasn't hers to take. Leaving shells.

'She is none of my concern anymore,' he barks finally, when he builds up enough rage to speak of Marisa without his mind stumbling to her like a dog whose leash is being yanked at. 'I offered her a chance, she refused. I'll not give her another thought in my life.'

'With due respect, Sir, you might find that difficult. The child–'

'Then I'll see the child as little as I can.'

(Years later, on his visit to Jordan College, he is listening to Lyra's lame account of what she's learned, and hides the pride of noticing her newly-formed scar and the way she's clearly uncomfortable in a dress, nothing similar to her mother. But then she turns her head a certain way, or makes a grimace, and it's a spitting image. The girl frowns like Marisa, curls a corner of her mouth like Marisa, bites nails on Marisa's long fingers.

'Uncle?' she says, fidgeting in her seat, searching for a crumb of his attention, and Asriel has to usher her out, unable to explain that it isn’t her presence he can’t stand.)

A short-lived silence follows. Conceding, Thorold steps away and whistles his pinscher daemon closer. Stelmaria regards him as he leaves – 'I will prepare the clothes now, Sir' – but as soon as the door shuts behind him, her statuesque ghost moves nearer with a grumble.

'You could be kinder to him.'

'I could,' Asriel agrees coolly. 'But sentiment is not useful.'

'So what are we going to do?'

He looks around, making no mistake of misinterpreting the words as still relating to the servant. Everywhere, he sees little marks, little claims of space: a displaced lamp, the drapes closed to enjoy the shadows, a heap of research journals on the mantelpiece. The very chair he sits in, placed here at Marisa’s request. Her corner, it was. By the fireplace, a heavy rug of exquisite silver fox fur, absolutely gorgeous and madly expensive – the only thing of luxury in his ascetic house, because Marisa wanted it, Marisa liked it. At nights when they were in love enough and impatient enough to stay here, basking in the golden warmth and fucking slowly, he even liked the goddamn thing, too.

He spurns at its edge now, half-heartedly.

'We weed out the infestation.'

And so they proceed. Methodically, Asriel removes every trace he can find to restore the room in its original, pre-marisa state. It becomes very clear in the process that memories cannot be fully erased, but at least he can master them, can he not? Throw away everything they're attached to. Cut the bond. The thought intrigues him, stirs something in his mind, and he promises himself to revisit it later.

Thorold returns – Asriel kicks a rolled-up rug to him across the floor, instructing to get rid of it immediately. He chooses not to see a glimpse of sorrow in the old man's eyes. Out with the old.

The last thing he does is throw Marisa's journals in the fireplace. He has no intention of returning them, and she has clearly taken a habit of abandoning things. There’s no flame burning, but the remaining coals, perhaps as persevering as he is, prove to be enough for the job. Asriel is watching brown spots start blooming on the covers when something brutal shifts in him. He grinds his teeth. He stiffens, holding on to the feeling as hard as he can until it burns his chest.

Few hours later, Asriel puts on a fresh change of clothes and goes to stand trial for murder. His head is clear, step is sprightly, but neither he nor Stelmaria can shake off the strangest sensation of climbing the gallows.

A mad, migraine-induced thought pierces his temples: he should have shot Marisa too when he had a chance.

[three-atoms]

Asriel Belacqua: a passionate Northern explorer with a great fortune

Marisa Coulter: a passionate scholar married to a rising politician

they fell in love as soon as they met // she found herself with his child and thought it best to hide the baby away // but someone whispered to her husband what had happened and he came a flying down in a murderous passion; Asriel challenged him, and they fought there and then, and Asriel killed him // the consequence was a great lawsuit; the judges punished Asriel by confiscating all his property and all his land; Marisa turned her back; the court decided the baby was to be placed in a priory // but Asriel wouldn't stand for that; he took the baby to Jordan College and dared the law to undo it // Asriel went back to his explorations; he wanted to go to the source of Dust itself // then came all this anxiety about Dust; Marisa spotted the chance to set up her own power base //

in the end, they leapt, seizing the great beating wings of the Authority and bearing them all down into the abyss

together

for Lyra

quotes adapted from Northern Lights by Philip Pullman

[royalpain16]

In Belgium, Elisabeth, the Duchess of Brabant (the title given to the Belgian heir apparent) is expected to become Belgium’s first queen. The 22-year-old—the eldest of the Gen Z princess on this list—is the daughter of King Philippe and Queen Mathilde, and has been training for this role since she was a tween. 

At age 10, Elisabeth carried out her first official royal engagement, appearing at the opening of her namesake Princess Elisabeth Children’s Hospital in Ghent. Her name can also be found on the Belgian scientific facility in Antarctica, the Princess Elisabeth Antarctica Research Station. 

Belgium has had seven kings since winning independence from the Netherlands in 1830. Because the country changed its line of succession in 1991, Elisabeth’s younger brothers, princes Gabriel and Emmanuel, will not displace her in the line of succession [PDF]. Elisabeth also has a younger sister, Princess Eleonore.

Elisabeth’s ongoing education includes studying history and politics at Oxford University’s Lincoln College; she also earned an International Baccalaureate at UWC Atlantic College in Wales in 2020. She additionally studied social and military sciences at the Royal Military Academy in Brussels, Belgium, and attended the Yale Young Global Scholars Program at Yale University, in New Haven, Connecticut. 

The press reported earlier this year on Elisabeth’s visit to Egypt with her mother and her trip to Jordan with her parents to attend the wedding of Crown Prince Hussein to Rajwa Al Saif. So far, Elisabeth has managed to live a relatively low-key life for a queen in training.

- article by Samantha Drake

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Luscinia megarhynchos (All the Things She Said, Part 1.)

Description: After a rather unlucky coincidence, Lord Asriel is left alone on his supposed expedition to meet the king of Lapland. Thanks to Thorold's advances, he's lucky enough to get an assistant sent over from the University of Oxford.

Part Summary: Being a female scholar, your resources are very limited and there is no credit to be given to you. So when an amazing academic opportunity comes your way, you won't hesitate to accept.

Word Counter: 5.9 K

A/N: I have a few things to say. Be aware that I haven't read The Northern Lights trilogy by Phillip Pullman, so my understanding of Lyra's world might be either limited or wrong on occasions. I'm trying my best to go through all of the information sources I'm able to find on the internet. I've finished The Golden Compass (New Line Cinema, 2007) and His Dark Matters (HBO, 2019 - 2022; I presume) so while my understanding of the setting might not be perfect,it isn't the worst I'd say. The story is set sometime around Asriel's expedition to 'Lapland' so it shouldn't interfere with any other cannon moments of the story since I hate altering the cannon to my liking all that much. And since both the movie and show start by Asriel coming back from the first expedition, I don't think there's a lot of other backstory in the books and the past events are giving us through the characters? (For example: Iorek Byrnison explains to Lyra and the reader/watcher by proxy the situation of the armored bears but there's not an explicit flashback, only exposition for how things went down?) So I think that events of the past are keeping vague for a reason and the author lets us fill out the blanks using our own imagination except the times he specifically lays out events that we need to take a notice of.

Shortly, I should get away with this series and while won't defying cannon.

Tagging: @emmyspov

Series master list:  h e r e   | Series playlist:  h e r e

Clickity clack. Turning right into yet another empty hall with your arms full of papers filled to the brim with your handwriting, delicately tidied due to extensive usage of various colourful pens - all the essential terms were underlined heavily or highlighted with bright, easy-to-read-through colours. Clickity clack, you thought to yourself as you listened to your high heels repeatedly hitting the stone as you made your way through Jordan college in Oxford.

How did you find yourself in one of the most renowned men's colleges in Oxford was a proper question to ask; ever since finishing your studies at St. Sophia's, you've spent most of your academic time on Jordan's grounds, working with some of the most renowned scholars of said college. Truth be told, many experimental theologists were wandering around Jordan's and yet, even through coming to contact with this specific field every day, you weren't part of this group - you devoted yourself to studying animals, their life cycles, habits, and needs. Each facet of this work was bringing you serenity, the biggest reason being that daemons voluntarily took animal shapes. One aspect there was to love about animal studies was the requirement to study outside, carry on observations, and draw conclusions. Or, as you'd say with joy, it was a rather touchy-feely field to study, letting you wander through dark forests, and fields, to set out on ocean voyages… Forcing you to work inside only when you had to write some papers. That was what you loved about animal studies.

An undebatable benefit of carrying studies based on animal observations was that… There was anything that could be deemed as heretical. No matter how much would the Magisterium tried, there was nothing they'd find. What would they find in your last paper which was published under your colleague's name? 'The mating rituals of foxes in Sveden'? Which part of it could be even a bit heretical? Not being to publish your actual work under your name was the part that really sucked. Thanks to the Authority, Jonah (that was your colleague) was a good man, and each time people showed interest in said papers, he'd send them your way to discuss their thoughts with you.

Sighing, you pulled all of the papers to your body and listened to the continuous clicking again. It was rather odd to see you dressed in formal dress, wearing high heels with your hair tidied up and a bit of make-up on your face. Most of the scholars usually saw you wearing an old jacket, bright yellow wellies, along with a beanie in the same colour, combined with comfortable oversized jeans overall with a tactical bag lazily thrown over your shoulder. You liked it oversized since you could then dress appropriately to the weather under it - you could add leggings, warm sweatpants, sweaters, cosy sweatshirts, short-sleeved t-shirts… Whatever you pleased, really. Seeing you in formal clothes usually meant that you were about to present your newest research to Jonah and Master Carne.

This research was the conclusion of your one-year-long observation concerning the nesting rituals of nightingales. It was one of your favourites yet - this time, you settled near Devon, spending all of your time in the forest, silently watching birds while taking notes and drawing sketches. "It all might've been fun for you, Y/N." - A well-built coyote running alongside you said, turning its eyes to you as you both walked up to the second floor. Before Joy even got to the other part, you already knew what was coming; so you rolled your eyes. - "I had to lay without moving for hours. You know how much I hate that." - The coyote muttered, making you chuckle at her words.

"Don't be theatrical Joy, you had your fun as well. Let me remind you of how you ran down the stream playing with the fish you found in there." - At this, Joy growled unhappily - she knew you were right, but you had to admit that to a certain degree, she was right too. - "It's better than sitting in an office all day, come on now. Can you imagine being an indoor coyote?" "Not in a million years." - The daemon uttered, shaking its head. - "What would I do in an office? Fetching your papers? In my mouth?" "I think it would suit you." - Your whisper made the daemon bray silently, that was her form of laughter. Her amusement made you giggle too. "Screw you." - Joy muttered as you petted the top of her head, making her smile at you warmly.

You've spotted Master Carne from a whole hall away - Alicia was sitting on his shoulder proudly, overseeing the hall; the man himself was standing in front ornamented black door leading to the retiring room. Carne wasn't alone, though; he was talking to a very attractive brunette dressed in a blood-red pencil skirt and a jacket of the same colour while scholars flowed around them. As usual, he was already waiting for you... But you didn't expect her to be there. This woman was someone who you'd never wrapped your head around. She carried herself with grace and undeniable beauty, ambition, and intelligence shining inside her eyes, and yet, anything you'd look in her face, something was missing. And throughout the years of knowing her, you still weren't anywhere near deciphering what the missing component was. Maybe, just maybe, you missed any sign of actual human emotion - that was just the working theory you and Joy came up with, nonetheless. Her daemon was standing next to her, holding the hem of her skirt in its palm - it was a petite golden monkey. The gesture didn't feel loving; it felt right the opposite way if anything, repulsive to both parties. Joy exchanged a quick glance with you, letting you know she was thinking the exact same thing; you didn't like either of them. Something felt... Off.

This subtle feeling didn't change anything though; as soon as the Master noticed you, you sent a big bright smile his way and waved at him. Marisa, noticing as the man turned away from her, looked your way as well, sending you a small, gracious smile. Ah yes, nothing new, nothing changed, same old shit.

"Mrs Coulter, what a pleasure." - You uttered with a wide smile, offering her your pal which she shook, her grip appearing rather lukewarm. As soon as you shot your gaze to Carner, you knew that whatever the topic was, he was having a rather unpleasant conversation with Marisa and that he is very grateful for your early arrival. - "What lead you here all the way from London? I haven't seen you here in years... You're still looking as gorgeous as I remember you." "Oh, you're being too kind, Ms Y/L/N. You haven't aged a day." - The woman winked at you with a warm smirk, her blue eyes watching you intently. Dear, it all sounded so forced and fake. - "I was travelling through the area and I thought that visiting Jordan might be an enjoyable activity to fill my free afternoon. I was hoping that I'd have to chance to... Catch a glimpse of someone."

At that, you smiled knowingly as you nodded. Marisa didn't need to specify any further; the history between her and Jordan's 'Golden boy' (that's what you called the man) was a public secret. A very tragic and chilling public secret at that. Lord Asriel Belaqua, aka Golden boy as you and Joy dubbed him simply because he was very skilful with enormous amounts of money from the university funding simply by batting his eyes at the council, was... Quite someone, you had to admit. You've known him ever since you started co-publishing with Jonah and until that day, you didn't have a conclusive opinion when it came to him.

The man, however you wanted to approach him, was very good-looking; he was well-built and tall, often drawing attention with his fashionable outfit choices. Asriel was disposing of with a fairly pronounced nose, deep blue eyes sparking with everything he hadn't said out loud, and a pair of nicely shaped lips - his hair was neatly styled and beard trimmed each time you bumped into him. He was a dashing man, no denial about that. More so, he was aware of his physical appearance. And he was aware of said looks being a powerful tool - just like Marisa was when it came to her looks. And just like her, the man was very, almost frighteningly intelligent; more intelligent than anyone you'd ever met. You weren't shy of calling him a genius. He was often directive, and just like with Marisa, you've never really seen him displaying any deeper emotion. In his case, though, it appeared as if he preferred to be private - not fake. You've never spent much time around Asriel to conclude if you like him as a person. That could be explained easily; he was an experimental theologist while you worked in a different field entirely - but you caught a glimpse of him here and there.

However, the was an instance when you spent a significant amount of time around him way back when. It was shortly after you met Jonah who agreed to be your publishing partner; Asriel was looking for an assistant and you wanted to learn about preparing scientific papers to be published. And after acknowledging the significant amount of time you've spent inside his personal office, you still didn't know anything about Asriel. You were even helping with writing down his notes and knowledge, getting it ready for publishing; well, anything an assistant would do, essentially. At that period, you never bonded or got to know each other better. Sure, you talked, debated about his publication, and consulted it, but it always seemed... Polite and very artificial. Yet, there were moments when he felt... Almost human.

It was when you both worked late into the night, he usually sat at his desk and drank Tokay wine while you huddled up in a big plushy chair in front of the fireplace, reading through the papers and writing small memos all over them. In those moments, you'd catch yourself looking out of the window, watching the snow fall behind the closed windows. And as you turned your head around back to the papers in your lap, you'd catch a glimpse of the man looking at you; quickly diverting his attention back to the papers as soon as he saw you looking back at him. Usually, after catching him, you'd see a brief smile appearing on Asriel's lips; and sometimes it almost felt that there was something unsaid hanging in the air. The day you finally managed to put the publication together, named 'Of the time and space: A guide through basic experimental theology' was one of the last that you really spoke with Asriel. The man poured you a glass of wine to toast you, chatting with you about enjoyable nonsense. As you were leaving, Asriel turned his head in your direction, opening his mouth. With your palm on the doorknob, you stopped yourself to listen.

"I..." - Was all that he said, looking at you with the known glimpse in his eyes; there was more to be said and the man himself was clearly going through some kind of emotion since even Stelmaria stood up and looked at her human with confusion. For a moment, you both stood there, looking at each other - the words were on the tip of his tongue. And then... Asriel chuckled, ran his fingers through his hair, and pushed his palms into the pockets of his trousers in the end. - "I think you're ready to write your first publication, Ms Y/L/N." - The man said with a sincere smile, walking behind his desk. - "Hopefully, you've learned enough about preparing your own works for publishing. You're a smart woman." "I'm ready thanks to you, Lord Asriel. I can't possibly thank you enough for tutoring me." - You answered with a sweet smile and for the last time, the unknown glimpse had appeared in his eyes. And then... It was gone. Stelmaria laid down once more, closing her eyes. "I'll be eagerly awaiting your first publication. I'll see you around, Ms Y/L/N. And close the door on your way out."

That was who Asriel was to you. And the romance he and Marisa had... Well, as you said, it was a public secret. Everyone knew and everyone remembered and for a long time, Mrs Coulter had to live in the shadows, marked by her romance with Lord Asriel. It was a huge scandal back when it all broke out. You were still a student at St. Sophia's and Marisa was one of the front absolvents of your college. And then it came - the infamous 'did you hear about..?'. It was safe to say that the ordeal hadn’t ended well for either of them and on top of the enormous shame and oppression from her surroundings, it took her a long time to get her life back on track... And yet, through all of that, there she was, standing inside your workplace talking to the Master overseeing all of your publications, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who demolished her life and her reputation.

“Understood, Mrs Coulter. According to my understanding, though, the Magisterium is being well-informed about all of the observations and experiments that are being conducted on the Jordan college's grounds?” - You asked as you pulled your arm back to your body, hugging the body of papers ever so tightly. Marisa straightened herself up, a frown hovering over your face as she looked at you; she pushed her chin higher, bringing her eyebrows closer. She was trying to make sense of what you just said. - “My point is that Magisterium surely has an overview of all of our studies and knows that none of them can be found or flagged as heretical. Based on that point alone, you surely must’ve known that he hadn’t set foot on Jordan’s grounds in years.”

Marisa still watched you with a frown on her face, confusion still overtaking her. The woman chuckled unknowingly, shrugging her shoulders in reaction to your question. - “Who hadn’t set foot in Jordan in years? What are you talking about, Ms Y/L/N?” - Her question was said in a gentle tone, accompanied by a sweet, wide smile; but due to the light in her eyes, you knew that she was getting who was the person you were talking about. And as you glimpsed over to Carne, he understood your point perfectly.

“I assumed you wanted to see Lord As…” “Let's say that in this case, you certainly assumed wrong. No, Y/N you don’t understand how wrong you are. Asriel Belacqua is certainly not the person I’m talking about, Ms Y/L/N. Don’t be silly now. I do not wish to see nor talk to that man. It was someone else I was hoping to see.” - Marisa gritted through her teeth, staring right into your soul as if you said something absolutely lunatic, almost condemning. She didn’t say everything out loud, but the lingering message was clear ‘keep your mouth shut and start thinking about what you’re saying, stupid little girl'.

“Understood Mrs Coulter, please, excuse the disrespectful attitude. If you’d excuse us now, Master and I have a business we need to attend to.” “Actually…” - Marisa exclaimed with some sort of excitement appearing in her eyes. “What is that you’re working on, Ms Y/L/N? All the scholars I’ve spoken with today told me that Doctor Jonah is about to present a very interesting document to the council.” - The woman asked with seeming innocence but you’ve perfectly understood what she was trying to convey. She was jabbing away at the fact that you weren’t allowed to publish your own scientific works - it didn’t make much sense since she couldn’t publish her works either. It jabbed the wrong spot anyway, you had to say. With newfound confidence, you chuckled and pulled the body of paper away from your thorax, revealing the title of your work.

Marisa’s eyes read the title multiple times as if she couldn’t grasp it - while in your opinion, it was rather understandable. - “‘The nesting habits of Luscinia megarhynchos and other Aves Passerine in Brytain?’” - Marisa asked with confusion, looking right back at Master Carne. - "This woman is studying birds, animals and... Master, therefore there is no reason to..." "I am simply hearing out a request made by one of my most successful researchers, Mrs Coulter. There is nothing more to it." - Carne cut her off before she could've gotten to the point. Joy glanced at you quickly, sharing your curiosity; what was this about? "Master Carne, her field is fundamentally different from his, therefore I think I'm better suited and don't find it appropriate nor smart to..."

"That's enough, Mrs Coulter." - The man retorted, his eyes widening. This gesture made Marisa finally accept that their conversation is truly over. - "The university is truly grateful for your concern, but this is a matter of no interest to you; the matter is not tied to any sort of research, it revolves mainly around administration and editing. On top of that, I've heard you're holding a private party in London this weekend; therefore I assume you have duties you have to attend to, Mrs Coulter." "Well, well. That's correct Master Carne, as usual, you're right. I simply hoped I might be of use." - Saying that, Marisa offered you her palm once more. The monkey sitting at her feet finally let go of her pencil skirt and stood up straight, furrowing right at you. Whatever Marisa was thinking about, it wasn't too nice.

"It was very refreshing to meet you. We'll have to catch up properly, Y/N. As soon as you're back, send me a letter and we'll arrange an intimate tea party." - With confusion, you shot a gaze toward Carne and shook her palm. - "Right back at you, Marisa. It'll be an honour, I haven't been to London in years. Has it changed much?" "I don't think so. But if you'd feel like the cultural shock might be a bit much for you... Let me know and I'll travel here, to Oxford." - She said with an angelic grin, jabbing at yet another of the soft spots - at least what they assumed to be one. To be frank, it was just plain rude of her. Sure, you loved to spend most of your time outside of civilization and its rules, but you were still very much socialized and cultured. To be frank, you loved London. With that, Marisa said goodbye to Carne, turned on her heels, and strutted towards the staircase, disappearing between the flood of long black robes.

"Dear God in heaven." - You muttered as soon as Carne closed the door of the retiring room behind you. Not waiting for much more, you chose to pour a glass of whiskey to both you and Carne - Alicia, accompanied by Joy, resorted to the corner of the room to catch some rest. - "Anytime I see Coulter wandering these halls, I just feel so... Anxious, hoping she'd leave as fast as she appeared. That woman, she's never good news." "That might be true Y/N, but she's still a very respected explorer and researcher, let's not forget that. Even though I have to agree about her tendency to be bad news." - The Master chuckled, making you smile back at him; you two liked to joke around when the no-one could hear you. Carne was a good man, even hearing you out regarding your works - he could've easily let Jonah submit all of the discoveries, yet there you were, taken as a woman of science.

"She called me uncultured, Master, and in addition to that, according to her animal research is not enough of a respectable research field. Let me jab back at her, even though she can not hear me anymore. No harm in that. By the way, I'm pretty positive she was talking about Golden boy back there. What do you think?" "Golden boy?" - Carne looked at you from sipping his whiskey, letting you set all of the photograms into the projector. His expression was lit up by a disbelieving smile as he watched you casually waltz around the room in your high heels. - "Last time I heard this nickname, I asked you not to use it in my presence, Y/N. You've been a welcomed addition to our research team for long enough to show respect for your co-researchers... Let alone the man who tutored you regarding editing a scientific paper. Lord Asriel wouldn't be amused by the nickname you've given him."

"How can you know he wouldn't be amused by the nickname? You'd have to share it with him... Which I doubt you'd do, Master. Stop dodging the question now." - Finishing up the projector preparation, you straightened up and looked right into his face, holding the photo album between your fingers. "Mrs Coulter wasn't looking here for Lord Asriel because she is well aware of his expedition leading him into the Lapland wilderness, Y/N. But to be frank, he was the main reason behind her sudden visit. Let's forget about Mrs Coulter now while you present me your newest discoveries, shall we?" - For a second, you remained watching him, thinking about what he had just said. Lord Asriel was the main reason for her to come here all the way from London?

Back when you talked to her, you were being serious. Asriel hadn't been in Oxford for ages - the last time he came was two years ago, let alone that he left right the next weekend. Anyone had spoken of him recently and his last research still wasn't anywhere near its end. So, the question remaining was... Why was Asriel concerning her and what did you have in common with the whole ordeal? As soon as you started to show Carne all of the data and as soon as you started to describe your findings, Lord Asriel and Marisa had disappeared out of your mind - suddenly, there was not much more than nightingales inside your head. Surely, it could be seen that Carne's attention was not at its all-time high, but he sat through it and asked questions to further clarify the subject, reading the rest of your research papers. When you ended the presentation, you let the last photogram be projected onto the wall while you sat down, finishing your glass of whiskey.

Just like you expected, the presentation took thirty minutes - both Joy and Alicia were taking a nap in the corner of the room, Carne looked sleepy at best and you were glad that the formalities were finally over. All you had to do now was to give the manuscript to Jonah, inform him about your findings, and then... It was done. "I know people don't find this topic very... Interesting or life-changing." - You admitted as your eyes looked at the small brown bird projection. Letting out a long breath, you sipped on the alcohol before licking your lips, letting the aftertaste burn on the body part for a bit. - "But I think it's important, it's quite life-changing to me. To understand nature and ecosystems, to understand animals as well as their behavioural pattern to ensure that humanity isn't interfering with the wild and natural habitats too much. Because if we do... May God save us all. Can you imagine not waking up to birds singing? Or bees buzzing?"

"The college understands your reasoning, Y/N, that's why I personally vouch for most of your expeditions and research. I see why you care so much and I think it's very important to have people that care. And therefore, I have a research proposition for you... Help request might suit our situation better." - The Master answered calmly, letting you know that to him, your small obsession with nature isn't just some weird, off-beat childish whim. To Marisa, your field might've not been a valid scientific field, but to Carne it was. And that was what you needed to hear. The woman made you pretty nervous. At the back of your head, you always remembered that no matter what she tells you, or the Master, no one's opinion will change. Yet for some reason, her words cut like a knife even though you've only been an academic colleague of hers. Shaking Coulter out of your head, you looked back at Carne. - "Well, let's hear it. What is it you want me to look at? To study the cat population around Oxford since I've heard Alicia is rather fond of them?"

"No, she just really likes chasing them around the walls, that's all. Everyone has their quirks, am I right?" - Carne answered your joke, chuckling under his breath. - "What would you think if I'd offer you a fully funded, four months-lasting research of fauna on Svalbard?" "Hold on... Hold on. Research on Svalbard, funded by the college? Just to be clear Master, do you understand that we are talking about researching narwhals, arctic foxes, penguins, walruses, and... Even Panserbjørne by proxy?" - Slowly realizing what Carne had just said, you picked yourself up on your legs and walked around the room for a bit, covering your opened mouth with your palm. - "If anyone would ask for this kind of funding, they'd be turned down immediately - all the proprieties, clothes, food, a place to stay in... Let alone making a pact with the king regarding even speaking to the researcher. They are very secretive, bears I mean. Master, this is an offer that I can not turn down."

"That's also why I presented this offer first. The rest of the requests won't be as enjoyable. Let's start simply - have you heard of Thorold?" "I've met him once or twice, never spoke with him for too long though. He's an elderly man, very wise and very polite. He's also the servant of Lord Asriel, am I right?" - You asked back, finishing your glass while still standing in front of Carne. What had Thorold in common with this ordeal? That was at least five people that had been dragged into it by now. "Correct. Long story short, the poor man slipped on a one rather nasty stormy night and broke his leg, his left arm, and his right wrist, and therefore, he cannot stay in Svalbard to accompany Lord Asriel during his research. Thankfully, his unfortunate injuries came with the best possible timing - the research is concluded and the only request Lord Asriel has is help with editing and preparing the study to be presented. Which is something you are very good at, Y/N."

Of course, it came with a price, this expedition was too dreamy to be true on its own. Anyone would willingly pay for a four-month-long Svalbard expedition with a permit leading your right to the Panserbjørne king, notably since many scholars didn't quite identify with your desire to explore the animal kingdom. The council would cancel your request for such an expedition as soon as they'd see its heading written on an official document. On the other hand, working with Asriel didn't seem like such an ordeal upon comparing it with everything you'd get. Without a second thought, you'd agree to take care of all of the dirty jobs just so you could go to Svalbard.

"So that was why Marisa didn't quite agree with this request. Entire four months in the presence of local legend himself, huh?" - You asked with quiet laughter, pouring yourself and Master one more glass of the spirit. This whiskey, you had to admit, was very good. "You see, finding someone who'd be willing to work for Lord Asriel was... Hard." "That's why you bribe people with the most dreamy expeditions out there, you see, Master?" "You're the first one I'm asking to help Thorold out, but trust me, I'm sure there wouldn't be a single person who'd accept the job, no matter how much money would college offer them." - Carne said seriously, looking you right in the eyes. - "What you need to understand is the fact that Lord Asriel can be very difficult to collaborate with, Y/N. Especially when he's crazed with all of these ideas that might bring our college down to its knees."

"Wait, why are talking about Svalbard in the first place, Dr Carne? How could Thorold travel here from Svalbard - if Lord Asriel is supposedly conducting experiments in Lapland? We all know he's had an audience with the king. Why being so secretive about everything, then? Why did all of you say he's in Lapland? Is he studying something... Forbidden by the Magisterium?" - You asked back, intrigued by the slight sense of danger dripping out of the idea. "Yes, that's what most scholars think, at the present. What I thought as well until Thorold asked me in a private conversation, clearly in need of help. Ms Y/L/N..." - Carne sighed and looked away from you, using your last name; he only did that when the situation got dense. - "The research which Lord Asriel's conducting is risky at least, heretical at best. I need your help because you're one of the very few people in this college that I can put my full trust in. This is also the reason why I couldn't agree to Mrs Coulter's request to assist Lord Asriel. She thinks he's in Lapland too."

"And if she'd got to know..." - You sighed, realizing that this would mean a full-on raid by the Magisterium. The academic world was run by one very simple law - when there was an experiment conducted by the scholars of any college, it was always protected by the concept of Scholastic sanctuary. Any scholar or researcher had the right to be protected from the Magisterium, even when the research got a bit... Too on edge for Magisterium's liking. Hearing that Scholastic sanctuary, the most powerful research law in existence, might've been too short for whatever Asriel was researching in Svalbard was rather concerning.

For a moment, your breath shortened and you could feel Joy waking up in the room, trying to process the information alongside you. The research must've been a straightaway ticket to damnation, something Asriel would end on the stakes for, no problem. And the only explanation for such secretive procedures could be... "The fool is trying to study Dust, isn't he?" - You asked, looking right at Carne; by the look in his eyes, you knew that your guess is correct. Truth be told, you didn't know much about Dust, but you've heard the term a few times. Nobody wanted to talk about it and most scholars refused to acknowledge its existence out of pure fear, but even amongst them, there were a few brave ones who committed to researching it. Why were most people avoiding deeper conversations about Dust? That was simple too - Magisterium had deemed it as the Original Sin and therefore, there was no conversation to be held.

"If they get to know, they will raid the college without acknowledging Scholastic sanctuary. Doesn't Lord Asriel know this?" "Of course he has. Why do you think he's in Lapland?" - Carne snickered, letting you roll your eyes. - "And it's also why you'd be going to Lapland. We'd re-label your research after you'd get back, of course, but for the time being..." "You trust me a lot, am I right? Telling me about all of this... Master..." "I trust you because I know you're worthy of such trust, Y/N. "Be honest." - You said, looking him right in the eyes. - "Do you have any other option than me, Doctor?"

The expedition to Svalbard sounded too dreamy to be true. And it was because it was too dreamy to be true - for such an amount of money, you'd be risking your life. Dear God, if the Magisterium would discover your name on the documents right next to Asriel's, you'd be as good as dead. You'd probably disappear quick, without anyone noticing. And those who'd notice would not say a word. "I do not, Y/N, you're the only one I am not afraid to ask for help. And on top of that, Thorold asked for your presence specifically due to your previous experience in collaborating with Lord Asriel." "Fine then, Dr Carne, fine. I'll do it, but promise me you'd keep it utmost secret. No one ever will get to know I've helped Asriel other than responsible scholars, okay? I've never studied experimental theology simply because of my fear of the Magisterium. I'd be glad if it would remain a secret after I get back." "Thank you, Y/N, thank you..."

At that moment, a loud bang on the window made you jump and scream upon getting freaked out. Given the topic you've just discussed with Carne, you almost got a heart attack; if anyone would hear you two talking, you'd both be dragged to London by evening and killed by the morning. Yet as you looked up, you saw a pair of dark, almost black eyes watching you and the projected photogram of a bird behind you, the girl holding the windowsill in her palms as she peeped into the retirement room. With a smile, you risen your eyebrows and walked over to the room, opening it to get a good look at the small girl. Dear, hasn't she grown ever since you left for Devon? Her hair was now much longer it seemed, and her facial features were much sharper and more profound - she was now almost twelve years old if you remembered correctly. And, just as you expected, there was also a dark-haired, blue-eyed boy kneeling right next to her. Lyra and Roger. What a surprise.

"Why am I not surprised to see you two mischievous individuals peeping into the room, huh?" - At that, both kids laughed and hugged your waist, holding you close. You've grown to like this odd pair; both of them were orphaned at a very early age and they always used to run through Oxford's halls and bring life to that sad place, simply by laughing and cheering upon the simplest things imaginable. Their free spirits were what made your mood much better at times. "Lyra? Roger? What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be in your classes? Both of you?" - Master Carne asked, now being his usual self; the leader of Jordan at his best.

"I was hoping to see my uncle, Dr Carne. Scholars were saying that one of the researchers is finally back, so we went to see for ourselves." "That does not excuse you, Lyra. Get in, both of you, I'll make personally sure that you'll be at your school desks immediately. Me and Ms Y/L/N are done here anyway." - Carne said, furrowing at both of the kids. - "But if you'll be good until evening and after Roger finishes his tasks, you can ask Ms Y/L/N to show you some of the pictograms she took on her latest research. For some reason, I think you'd both really like them."

They would, you thought to yourself as you watched the children leaving with a saddened smile lingering upon your face as you started thinking about the Svalbard expedition once more, they definitely would. Because these kids are free as the birds. And if Asriel manages to make a breakthrough, we might all be free one day.

[lyrasilvertongve]

I see a lot of people lamenting that Lyra has no one to come home to in her world, while Will at least has Mary and his mother.

While this may be how Lyra feels at first, it is absolutely untrue.

She has Alice Parslow, who basically raised her and loves her very much.

She has the Maester, who’s always been kind to her.

She has friends amongst the townie kids and Jordan College’s staff.

She has a bunch of Jordan scholars who are very attached to her, something she didn’t understand as a child but is still very much true.

Most of all, she has Oxford itself. She is back in the only place where she ever experienced stability and safety, and that is far from nothing.

(the secret commonwealth slight spoilers) In that book, young adult Lyra has made many new friends and even lovers (even though she is not over Will).

Lyra is not alone.