#Champion Senn

[dgiacomo]

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[minecraftfanatic]

"What was it like?"

Senn fiddled with Pythus' wrist, eliciting cracking from armor plate and bones. "It was fine. I mean, I got fed, had a roof over my head, and Ria kept me company."

The mention of his sister brought a smile to Senn's face, one his lover noticed and scowled. "You miss her?"

"Always," his ears droop, "always..."

"What of the others--your guardian?" lava hardened tips carded white hair, massaging Senn's scalp with hypnotic ease. "Thalleous and Osivian, yes? The former sounds familiar...yes, I remember him. He was a champion responsible for slaying multiple Voltaris camps long before the War. It was partly due to him that Ingressus sought us out."

Uh. Senn had no clue how to respond to that tidbit, so he didn't. "Osivian's strict but he was the only person willing to take me in and Thalleous-"

"Lied." Senn found himself face to face with bright eyes, one hand pushing his chin upwards and the second wrapped around his arms. "You don't smile when we talk about Osivian and ever since coming here you've grown uncomfortable when speaking on your past. Your sister is the one person you'll tell stories on. No neighbors, no friends, no family."

Senn frantically darted his eyes to the left window, earning a growl as Pythus tightened his grip, "Don't. Look. Away. Why are you lying to yourself? Running from your problems won't solve anything."

"I just don't like talking about them okay! Let go, you're hurting me!"

"Only if you state the truth," his claws relaxed a fraction, "say it. Go on, its not too hard."

"I already told you--I don't like talking about them, that's it!"

That was the wrong thing to say. Senn yelped, Pythus drawing blood bicep and chin.

"Fine. FINE! THEY HURT ME! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?"

Senn squirmed, attempting to leap out of Pythus' embrace. Unfortunately, while the Netheran was willing to keep his word he wasn't willing to comply with the rest of his lover's wishes, leaving the Ardoni in an awkward hug, dribbling blood down their chests, panting heavily.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Pythus crooned into his hair, stroking oh-so gently. "I warned you my star. Lying leads to denial which ends in harm and you, little light, are worth more than those sacks of seawater ever were. Listening to their words is as good as listening to a zombie." It takes a handful of minutes, full of feather-light touches and blanketed warmth, for Senn to respond.

"You hurt me too."

Pythus' expression remained unchanged. His body does not, tension still as a lake. "Is that so?" Senn's nod had him tilting his head, "Tell me. Did they hurt you for telling the truth?"

"...It didn't matter what I said."

"Do they apologize?"

"Same as before."

"Exactly," Tension seeped out of his frame, Pythus renewing his ministrations. "I asked and listened and believed. I warned you, cared for you, saved you." Delivering a tender kiss to both of Senn's horns Pythus whispered, "I told the truth. Which do you believe--my word or theirs?"

Maybe Senn spoke his answer too softly. Maybe he didn't. All Pythus knew was that his lover's horns and hair made for a fitting halo in his sleep.

Ah, rulership was a difficult career. He could have an hour to himself, recuperating and plotting over his next gift. Nothing too concealing, he wanted his little star to shine. Horn rings were out, unless he found one that didn't block his light, and the majority of his body made it difficult. Honestly, at this rate the only viable option was...

Ah. Of course, he was being ridiculous. Why go for something over elaborate when he simply needed to showcase their status?

"Now the real question," Pythus mutters, fondling Senn's ears. "Quartz or ruby?"

[lucidpantone]

Preview: The three sided king

Yes I am still writing this fic and this chapter is almost done. Its super long chapter but here is a preview.

Incase you need to a recap of where we left off: Published Chapters

Aquarias 1470

He is standing on the axis.

Barely visible between the white florets.

It’s soothing on the inside.

Like a concentrated dosage of vitamins and minerals.

The walls surrounding him are lacquered in a mint hue. Cool and expressive, a pigment rumored to remove free radicals from his interior.

The south wing of the palace seemed to suffice.

The Duke’s quarters were generous and ample. For all the Duke’s pomp and circumstance he actually required very little to live comfortably. He had only one request and that his chamber be adorned with white flowers at all times to quench his need to bring beauty to life via his skills on parchment.

Drawing was the only therapy that would help elucidate the Duke’s mind. It would bend time and submerge his troubled thoughts into a state of calm and as he sat in his quarters trying to unravel the enigma that caught him off guard; time got lost like a billow in a breeze and before he knew it a portrait of the prince of swords was looking back at him. Within seconds after laying eyes on the prince he had become the antioxidant for the duke’s deteriorating soul; an unforeseen remedy wrapped up in a beautiful creature with hickory ringlets that fell perfectly past his shoulders and a chocolate gaze complimented by perfectly placed laugh lines.

It’s hard to forget the moment he laid eyes on him. The smell of rain had just smacked him across the chest as he rushed up the stairs to the rotunda. The rate at which the heavens spilled their tears onto the palace courtyard matched the virago of the many scorned women Sander had left behind. As Sander greeted the Duke of Burgundy and his wife the rain began to whip around like a serpent dancing to a siren’s song and thunderclaps began to roll tide across the grey sky.A lightning fork lit up their drop back like an ominous foretelling of their preordained future but in that moment he first caught a glimpse of him and his center of gravity shifted.

His bride-to-be Mary of Burgundy had stepped forward to curtsy for her lord, revealing the prince hidden by her side. Sander instantly fixated on him.  The prince had locked his gaze onto the ground. Focusing on something Sander could not see. Sander was in dire need to see every inch of his chiseled features. Sander was discreet in trying to move his gaze from Mary to the prince but he was suddenly nervy and his suave demeanor broke for a matter of seconds when he fumbled out a high pitch overly zealous greeting, "The Prince of Swords. It's nice to make your acquaintance".

The prince broke thought and looked up at Sander with a curious expression. The prince was nothing like Sander imagined him to be. He was a living cypher. A being in need of decoding. A walking enigma. His features were tender and his eyes warm but also hard edged. The initial flicker of warmth the prince had radiated seconds before was quickly replaced by a glacial facade. The prince was cool and collected, beautiful but stone like but one thing was certain the Prince of swords was no brut he was a man capable of dancing on a knife's edge, conquering a nation, riding into battle and becoming a champion. He was much more compact than Sander had expected but in possession of a noticeably stealthy physique. Sander and the prince both got lost in each other’s gaze for a prolonged second as they shook hands when the prince’s father, the Duke of Burgundy, broke the occasion.

“Here, here. I see you have met my son, the prince of swords”

Sander threw the prince a soft smile before breaking his gaze and looking towards the fast approaching Duke Of Burgundy.

“Yes, yes I have my lord”

“Be careful with that one. I know he doesn’t look like much but blink too slow and he’ll have the dagger of Burgundy at your throat.”

As the Duke of Burgundy positioned himself horizontally to Sander’s right shoulder he preemptively began to move Sander towards the long line of courtiers waiting to introduce themselves to him with their high born titles.

Sander took two steps forward alongside the Duke but then paused and quickly turned back and headed back to prince.

It was practically a whisper, the first of many that they would exchange as Sander cloaked their exchange with a secondary handshake and said softly.

“Sander, by the way”

Robbe’s eyes grew wide and his mouth opened a bit in shock as he knew it was uncommon for Duke’s of Sander status to exchange such pleasantries amongst those unknown to their court but he reacted quickly as to not offend the Duke and matched his lords volume.

“Robbe” he sighed out softly.

Sander smiled and in that split second he saw it again. The warmth Robbe had been hiding from the rest of the world.

--

Sander snapped out of his memories and was back in his quarters surrounded by the mint hues as he heard his chambers doors being pried open.

He quickly stood up off his chair and discarded his parchment and charcoal on it.

As he walked towards the door he recognized the voice on the other side.

Charles’s voice was animating through the chamber doors as rambunctious and cavalier as always as he strolled into Sander’s hideaway.

“My lord---” Charles interrupted Sander with a palm up salute.

“I told you to call me Senne. That’s what my family calls me and you're soon to be family right?”

Sander threw Senne a half baked smile as validation and proceeded to appease his request.

“Of course, Senne.”

Senne clapped his hands together enthusiastically signaling his entourage to show Sander what he came here for.

“Ahhhh… I brought you something for tonight”, Senne called over one of his servants.

The servant laid down a strange looking object on Sander’s bed. As Sander examined it he found it quite a peculiar gift.

“A mask?” Sander questioned wiping all offense from his tone.

“Yes, You’ll be the bull tonight for our masked ball to celebrate your addition to our family.”

Senne’s tone ranged from devilish to persuasive, mercurial to Insidious but Sander knew these overt insults were merely a test of wit and dominance.

To appease the Burgundian duke Sander played coy and shot him a thankful smile and opened his arms wide as he folded them in front of himself and curtsied towards the duke and spoke clearly.

“My lord if you wish me to be the bull. Then the bull I shall be.”

“Good. I think it suits you. Makes you stand out and we wouldn’t want anyone to miss you.” Sander didn’t miss the slight dose of passive aggression laced all over Senne's voice.

“I’ll leave you one of my servants to help you get ready” Sander noted that a mid sized male stepped forward from Senne’s kings guard with large fluffy curls adorning the top of his head.

“Thank you” Sander stated.

Senne and his court began to exit the mint hue room when Senne turned around like he just remembered what he actually came to Sander’s quarters for, “Oh before I forget…. don’t indulge too much on the festivities tonight. I arranged for the Prince to show you around the grounds in the early morning”.

Sander’s ears perked up at the sheer mention of the Prince.

“I’ll be sure to behave myself sire” Sander gives Senne a light nod as Senne turns and heads toward the exit once again.

“My lord would you like help getting dressed for tonight?” Senne’s kingsmen interrupts Sander’s thoughts.

“Yes, of course. I am sorry I didn’t catch your name….”

“Younes, my lord”

“Younes, please call me Sander” Younes gave Sander a soft smile in agreement.

“You should start getting ready Sander. The masquerade ball has been planned for weeks and it's the highlight of the season. Your betrothed has been planning her outfits since it was announced.”

Oh great Sander thinks not only has he been given short notice but now he also needs to pass some predetermined litmus test that the Burgundians have surely been cooking up for him.

He’ll just rely on his bravado and dynamism to survive the occasion.

“So you don’t know what my betrothed will be wearing tonight?”

Younes gently puts his right hand over his heart and softly whispers, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy”.

Sander lets out a soft giggle.

“Ok understandable. Wouldn’t want you to break any pacts.”

“What about the Prince? Do you know what he’ll be wearing?”

“Oh of course but everyone knows that” Younes reassures.

“He’ll be the lion” Younes states matter-of-factly.

“The Prince is always the lion”

“And why is that?” Sander asks curiously.

“Because the prince has never encountered prey he couldn’t kill.There’s a reason they call him the Prince Of Swords…..Don’t let your guard down or he’ll be the death of you.”

----

The darken corridors felt like a labyrinth.

A maze of endless entry and exit points on a journey to nowhere.

The palace was a mere whirlpool of decor that captured the zeitgeist of the time.

Tapestries adorning floor to ceiling windows.

Polished stone staircases.

Portraits of past rulers and the coat of arms of the burgundian nation stapled across every possible crevice of available wall space.

Sander felt like some sort of heretic. He didn’t belong amongst these people. He gave no credence to their cause. If anything he was the antistasis to their campaign secretly lobbying for their demise and permanently obtuse to the burgundian struggle. He knew there was no permanence to this betrothal. He would never allow himself to wed a kin of the three lions. This agreement was merely for show; a pit stop till he got back to his real life.

He sauntered down the palace halls with little regard to their importance, going out of his way to belittle all the objects the burgundians treasured like some sort of ignorant dilettante.

Sander knew he merely had to survive these grasslands. Deem himself a poacher within this big cat habitat. Become merciless and when an opening presents itself, drive an arrow through the heart of a lion but first he would need to learn how not to become the prey.

He came out of nowhere.

Hidden by the cover of night.

He was observing him from the end of the long hallway. The lion standing at ready. Taking him in. He wore a burnt orange colored cape with hand etched gold trimming. His chocolate orbs the color of an afternoon sunset. His face adorning the face of a leader of the pack.

Sander just stared at him.

Curious.

Drawn in.

His feet pick up pace towards him. Completely oblivious to the fact that he himself is drench in a disguise. For tonight he is but nothing but a bull; temperamental and sinister. A green eyed monster ready to crash land on his own personal matador.

He almost reaches him and then the lion looks out to some unknown voice down the hall and runs towards it, getting lost in the sea of creatures in the throws of their festivities inside the grande ballroom.

The bull lets his instinct guide him and blurs into the terrain of blushing birds, bunny rabbits, deers and wolves all dancing in unison with one another under the twinkle of the ballroom’s candlelight incandescents.

For one night only mere mortals have morphed into beast, hounds and the feather habitants of a wild life Archipelago. The bull weaves his way around a pack of wolves, passes a litter of kittens when he suddenly feels a serpent wrap its scaly surface behind his neck and tug him in their direction.

“There you are?” The Marchioness Deruwe spoke in a possessive tone.

Sander flung his head in a 90 degree turn towards her direction.

The Marchioness Deruwe was a beautiful creature. That was not something that was ever up for debate but she was conniving and a master of the game. She maneuvered courts to her will. Destroying young maiden’s reputations on a whim. Her prowess for dismantling those who opposed her was so infamous it travelled with her across the channel to the Burgundian realm. She was a flower of the Yorkist faction. Her father had married her off to a French Marquess at the tender age of 16. Most young English maiden’s would have been intimidated to enter the French courts so unestablished but the Marchioness had spent her entire life bossing her pack of blonde hair, blue eyed hyenas around every Yorkish social event. To the Marchioness getting in the good graces of King Lucas and Queen Daphne was nothing more than sport. Another challenge to show off her skill set. It took no more than a season until she was trotting around the French palace like she owned the place. She worked her angle to its utmost potential, securing her husband the Marquess Deruwe a role as official acting liaison to the French king throughout the Burgundy nation and so here she stood exactly where Sander expected her.

Regal, drenched in beauty, playing her role. Moving puzzle pieces around. Advising young courtiers who were on the hunt for some prey and willing to do anything to climb up the social ladder to land themselves a big fish.

“My lady”

Sander slightly bowed in her direction as she placed her hand out to be kissed by Sander’s lips.

“My lord”

She said in giddy almost pantomime fashion.

It was strange for Sander to have the Marchioness validate his presence. For so long she had only toyed with him. Wound him up and dropped him like he was some rudimentary tool the Marchioness had outgrown and had no use for anymore. He hated to admit it to himself but she had taught him how to love. To love only for gluttony, to never share or truly give yourself to another but to merely take and when all resources had been depleted to move on to the next bigger and better thing. Sander had experienced this first hand as a young adolescent who lost himself in the Marchioness' blonde locks and lean figure and late nights falling asleep on her bosom but as intense as their “love” was, Sander just became another victim of her wicked game. She gorged and binged herself on his love mosaic, his unrelenting joyful spirit that illuminated a room like a moonbeam in the middle of a forest but once the affair was all over he was left a mere shell of himself. She had taken everything from him. Sander felt he had no other options but to resign himself to a monastic order or to become an agent of this dark market where love was a tool for savagery, negotiation, lust and pure greed. Sander had turned himself from a victim to a lothario. Only playing the game of love for sheer sport just to quench his blood lust.

Sander lost track of time and didn’t even realize how long he had been standing in front of the Marchioness spellbound by her presence when his axis shifted and he saw the lion surrounded by his pack. He snapped into animation and headed towards the lion passing a hoard of mice, a stallion and his mare.

The troop of big cats all turn towards the bulls' direction as he comes to a halt mere feet away from their king. The lion walks forward to meet the bull and as they close the distance and stand mere inches from one another about to break out of this wild life sanctuary and into the human realm the ballroom goes dark.

A sudden cacophony of screams and squeals rumbles through the ballroom.

“Who do you want to be tonight?” The Duke of Burgundy asks the wildlife in a demanding tone.

“Do you want to be a predator?”

“Or the prey? …...Tonight ladies and gentleman or should I say inhabitants of the animal kingdom. Tonight there are no rules. You can be who you want to be under the guise of moonlight.”

“If you dare not play our game and you absolutely must light your way through tonight's festivities then take one of the candles that the servants are providing but if you're brave and truly want to get lost in the darkness then the castle is your playground for one night and there is only one rule,what happens in the darkness stays in the darkness”.

The roar of the wildstock animates through the ballroom and orbs of light begin to appear in front of masked beast, birds and prey.

A gothic melody begins to fill the room as the musical entertainment for the evening amplifies through all corners of the palace.

The orbs begin to make a circular formation and the heat of the flames subdues the wild life.

The candle flames waltz back and forth.

And the hot blooded creatures move in the shape of a half crescent moon.

More orbs begin to light the room and the moon phases begin to decorate the floor as they do the night sky.

The green monster suddenly feels a tug of his wrist as gravity and his heart desire walk towards the moon phases and the lion and the bull head towards the dancing troop standing side by side, when the lion does a sudden about face and is standing directly in front of the bull.

“Dance with me?” the lion asked in a meek tone. One anticipating a denial.

“I don’t wish to embarasses you my prince but one is not a dancer”

The bull notices the lion's chocolate gaze scan his person when a sickly sweet tone comes out lightly encouraging the bull.

“Just follow along. I promise I won’t lead you astray. Just trust me.”

The lion lifts both his palms to his shoulder height facing the bull and the bull matches his movement.

The lion settles his palms against the bulls as they stand two ready pilgrims; palm to palm in holy palmers' kiss.

As the gothic chimes began to pick up pace the lion demo’s a gentleman’s curtsy which the bull mirrored. They retouch palms but this time they point their hands towards the sky and as the bull and the lion brought them down so did each pair of courtiers in the ballroom and took their position to begin the waltz.

The lion and the bull stand shoulder to shoulder vertically, each positioning themselves to face opposite sides of the ballroom but completely interlocked via one's right arm into the other’s left.

“You ready?” The music begins to speed up.

“NO” Sander chuckles out embarrassed.

“Did I mention I am really really bad at this…” he admits with a lack of confidence that is foreign to him.

“Well I think it’s fate then because I’m really good at this” Robbe shoots Sander a wink.

The pair of gentlemen begin swaying in a whimsical harmonic intonation. Fluted skirts twirled around them under the incandescent flicker of limelight radiating  around the ballroom.

Robbe’s mood becomes rather chipper as an uptempo beat begins to sound around the room and an uncontrollable laugh begins  bubbling up to the surface. Sensing he has the upper hand, Robbe is suddenly full of gumption and can’t help but tease the Duke.

“You really are bad at this, aren’t you?”

Sander is moving his limbs around aimlessly with a lack of grace that you could mistake him for a duck failing to take flight.

All feathers, no grace.

“Stop laughing at me” Sander demands in a playful tone.

Shooting him a makaveli smile. Robbe begins to untie his connected arm and gently grab Sander’s hand to guide it towards the heavens emulating a wedding’s arch.

“Tsk, tsk ……. Come on my duke go on” Robbe signals to Sander to go under the arch suggesting that he was about to twirl Sander mid dance.

Sander stalls for a second but as Robbe pulls on his arm he follows his direction.

“You’re enjoying torturing me too much my prince”

Sander knows that to the rest of the courtiers he must look clumsy and foolish but in that moment he couldn’t care less. The prince stirs an unfamiliar feeling within Sander. He feels weightless, airy and unencumbered. He knows this feeling is what Bernard would call fun or what he was adamant Sander was hesitant to experience in life, which was a carefree playdate. One without an agenda, an individual he could let go with and maybe one day even feel compelled to show his true nature too. The real Sander, the one he hid from the world.

Now that Sander had let Robbe have a little fun with him. It was time he matched the prince at his game.

Sander tugs on Robbe’s arm and pulls him towards him. They are standing so close together that Sander can feel the hot breath of royalty when Robbe doth protest to Sander hand gripping his slim waist.

Sander leans in towards the side of Robbe’s face and whispers lightly.

“Ready?”

“What?” Robbe replies with an inquisitive squint adorning his eyes.

“We're not going to stay here all evening are we? The night is young...”

“Sander I can’t lea---”

“On the count of 3” Sander reenforces.

“But my fiance is waiting…..” Robbe whispers, trailing off in a barely audible volume towards the end.

“3”

Before Robbe can fight the instinct to relent. Sander is rushing him out of the ballroom, leaving the prideland behind. Emergency evacuating from the serengeti and rushing down a dark corridor camouflaged by the night sky.

Before they both know it they have reached the rotunda the place where Robbe’s first laid eyes on Sander under a lightning painted sky that only served to  illuminate Sander’s chiseled face; and though Robbe was lost for words in this moment he would look back at their first meeting and recall that even amongst the torrential downpour and screams of mother nature there was no denying that Robbe always knew that Sander would be the one.

____________________

“Have you lost yourself in lunacy?”

Robbe turned to Sander, sporting a sour expression.

“I didn’t think you would lack imagination my prince”

“I don’t” Robbe spoke sternly, surprised at Sander’s use of his formal title.

“Oh no? Seems like you're questioning my intentions.”

“Is the prince of swords fearful he will be led astray?”

Both men stood silent staring at one another. Calculating their next decision as if the weight of a nation depended on it.

For Sander, Robbe had the properties of a seductive paramour. He knew the prince was promised to another and that whatever he sought from him would be nothing more than a diliance by night. A transaction that could only take place in the cloak of darkness but he didn’t care. When he was in his presence he felt displaced, rocking on the edge of an axis, chemically imbalanced, filled to the brim with potency.

For Robbe, Sander was the last drink of the night he should have walked away from. The moment you recall the next morning that tipped you over the edge. He was a deadly sin manifested in a man. Sander was Robbe’s last everclear.

Both men hear the squabbles of hyenas approaching their territory and on a lion’s instinct Robbe grabs Sander’s hand and leads him down the rotunda stairs.

“Come on Sander, someone will see us”

They escape through the courtyard and away from the herd.

Hand in hand.

Together.

In alliance.

The palace is pitch black, almost frightening but Robbe navigates the route with such gravitas, purpose, unwavered and committed towards his sin. The men untether themselves from their role play. They throw their masks aside and run into the night together in their purest forms.

Robbe heads towards refuge, towards the high garden walls where they can hide themselves deep in the labyrinthine green. A garden brew of emerald tinted greenery, shamrock leaves and rainbow colored rose bushes.

“Where are we going?” Sander finally protests and as Robbe lets go of Sander’s hand he takes stock of his surroundings.

“Woah”

Sander is in awe of this grassy fortress. The walls are high so much so that they feel like they are collapsing in on themselves and submerging the twosome in a foggy condensation.

Sander shivers.

“Fock, it's cold”

“Come now” Robbe nods his head signaling Sander to follow him deeper into this thorny environment.

“Where are we going?” Sander asks tentatively. A tad suspicious of Robbe but also certain that his fellow journeymen knows the way.

“It’s a surprise”  

“Is this the point of the story where I suddenly go missing?”

“What?” Robbe looks at Sander with a puzzled look.

“Am joking….. But don’t think I don’t know about the legends surrounding the lakes and forest here”

Robbe's face loses all its pink hue at the mention of those stories. Sander quickly recognizes his obvious fumble but it was merely an innocuous mention it was not meant to offend or besmirch his name.

“Umm am sorry, nevermind” Sander quickly throws out and starts moving deeper into the seafoam landscape.

“Ok prince, lead the way”

Robbe brushes off the uncomfortable mention and re-engages.

“Ok Duke, on the count of 3” and before Sander even has time to register the count Robbe takes off running deeper into refuge.

___________

Sander is panting by the time he catches up to Robbe.

They moved so fast between the juniper corridors and foggy condensation he isn’t even sure he knows how to get back out of the labyrinth but for now he pushes that thought out of his mind as he stands at the center of this garden universe surrounded by a rainbow colored flower bed.

He inhales and the scent of chrysanthemum, lillie and roses fill his nasal cavity. He licks his top lip and he swears he can taste the pollen in the air.

“It’s my favourite place in the palace”

“It's beautiful” Sander reassures Robbe.

“I planted these flower beds with my mother. It was the only thing that helped when he d-------”

Robbe cuts off the sentence abruptly.

“It took time but eventually they blossomed” He admits softly.

“These white florets here, they are the ones I picked out for your quarters”, Sander’s face instantly lights up with an innocent smirk when he realizes that Robbe picked out the flowers he's been drawing. Because of course he did, they’re beautiful.

Sander and Robbe stroll past bushes of red roses and Sander stops to clip one off the vine as he gently walks back to Robbe and begins to delicately push his hair behind his right ear and places the red rose atop of it.

Robbe just stares at Sander with big eyes and a dreamy gaze anticipating the next move.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?”

Robbe remains silent shaking his head back and forth.

Sander moves closer to Robbe, surrounding him.

Robbe drops his gaze focusing on the rosewood colored lilies beneath him.

He knows the moment is coming. Robbe can feel the heat of Sander breathe, glazing the side of his face moving towards his mouth when deep in the darkness he hears twigs break.

Robbe looks towards the ominous noise and takes one big step away from Sander and a few steps towards the sound.

Sander notices that Robbe suddenly seems flustered, weary and distracted.

“Ummm we should play a game”

“What? Right now? Why?” Sander retorts in a questionable elevated tone.

“Trust me” Robbe pleads with his signature pyrope orbs that guarantee to make Sander weak at the knees.

“Okay” Sanders states in defeat.

“Close your eyes”

Sander squeezes his eyes shut in anticipation almost childlike.

“When I count to three, open your eyes and come find me”

Sanders stands amongst the roses when he hears Robbe yell out “one” a few feet away from him.

A few seconds later he hears Robbe yell out “two” but his voice is more distant.

Lastly he hears him yell out “three” and when he opens his eyes he stands alone amongst the flower bed.

The red rose Sander placed behind Robbe’s ear lays on the ground in front of him. Sander picks it up and looks around.

Suddenly he is frightened.

The garden walls are high and the night is eerily silent.

“Robbe” Sander yells out into the darkness.

But nothing. Sander doesn’t hear any noise or callback.

Sander pops his head into every corridor but everything is so dark and identical looking that he doesn't dare leave the refuge of the rose garden.

He yells out for Robbe again but still nothing.

He waits another twenty minutes but the night is only growing colder and so he makes the call to head back to the palace and ask his hand, Younes to come back with him to search for Robbe in case he got lost or was hurt.

It took Sander many tries of winding corners and dead ends to find his way out of the garden maze. What easily took him and Robbe ten minutes to navigate; took Sander at least an hour to navigate his way out of.

As he reaches the entryway to the palace garden he sees a figure absconding towards the palace in haste, his locomotives appear unruly and he does not resemble Robbe at all from behind but those hickory manes are recognizable from over yonder.

“ROBBE” Sander yells out ferociously. Annoyed but relieved that Robbe was ok.

“Robbe stop” Sander speeds up towards the figure.

He sees the figure turn towards him and it is Robbe but Robbe takes a brief look at Sander with disinterest and continues on his way.

Sander sprints towards him for some sort of explanation about why he just abandoned him like that.

Sander finally catches up to him and as he tugs on his shoulder. He hears Robbe groan in obvious annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Robbe what the hell you just left without saying anything…… I was worried”

Robbe's face is blank and unnerved.

“OOookay” Robbe rolls his eyes.

Sander shrugs his shoulders signaling for some deeper meaning or some type of closure.

“Ooookay” Sander repeats back to Robbe mimicking his juvenile ambivalence.

They stand in the darkness, frozen, sizing each other up.

“Is that all you needed to say to me my lord?”

Sander is so confused and angry. He feels like a fool and better yet he doesn't really have room to speak freely at least not in view of the palace guards.

In one last attempt Sander cuts in front of Robbe and speaks in a barely audible whisper.

“Robbe I just thought…...well I thought we both understood that we enjoyed one another’s company. I thought we had an understanding tonight.”

Sander boars his gaze straight into Robbe’s chocolate orbs as he lets the last sentence drip out of his mouth.

Robbe’s steps back and lets out a menacing laugh.

“Oh my lord, for an English man you truly are gullible”

“Tonight was just for show. You and I are just foes through arrangement. Nothing less, nothing more. Let us not pretend that you're anything but a visitor here with his own personal agenda. I was simply entertaining you at my fathers bidding. I thought you of all people would understand.”

Sander stood stoic. Not giving Robbe the satisfaction of showing him an inch of emotion.

Every word spewing out of Robbe��s mouth was meant to sting. Worse of all, Sander could tell Robbe was enjoying ridiculing him.

Once Robbe was done humiliating him and blundering the metaphorical knife deep into his chest cavity he wrapped up their exchange with a simple bid farewell.

As Robbe walked into the palace he turned around one last time to remind Sander.

“Get to bed my lord. Tomorrow we go hunting and god knows…. am in need of a good kill”

And with that Robbe disappears into the palace walls.

Sander can feel tears welling up. He is not upset because some boy played him. He just hates looking foolish and being the butt of someone’s joke.”

Sander gets a hold of his senses and storms through the palace towards his quarters.

As he slams his door shut the moonlight illuminates his sitting room and he sees the bouquet of white florets in the center of the room.

A sudden rage takes a hold of him and he grabs the vase and slams it on the ground. The remnants of the broken ceramic lay shattered at Sander’s feet and the white florets destroyed.

Before Sander can react he sees a silhouette in the corner of the room.

“Well well well someone had a bad night”

It’s the Marchioness Deruwe. Sander would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Britt am not in the mood”

“Oh now we are addressing one another with informalities” Britt mockingly points out.

“Leave, right now”

“Now now Sander I come bearing gifts. The Earl of Warwick has sent a message. He has approved and is willing to arrange a marriage to his daughter Isabel”

“What?!?!?!” This was unexpected Sander knew the Earl despised him.

“How is that possible? Edward would never allow me to side with Warwick. He is already suspicious of his dealings with the Lancastrians.”

“He doesn’t have to know. We would arrange your passage back to England in secret and your union would be solidified without Edward knowing.”

“That’s mad. Edward has sent me here with one objective in mind. We need the Burgundian iron to defeat Henry.”

“You and I both know the Burgundians will never give up the iron without getting something more than a simple marriage to Margaret. This is all for laughs. The Burgundians just want to know if they are backing the right horse.”

Sander knows Britt is right. Everyone involved knows that the Burgundians will never give up the iron without a proper incentive.

“Why are you helping me, Britt? You’re a yorkist flower, what do you gain from pushing me onto the side of the Lancastrians?”

“We all have a part to play Sander. I need to hedge my bets and have as many options as possible. My husband is a complete idiot but our money is not everlasting and we all have something to gain from this war.”

Sander shook his head in agreement. It was rare to see Britt be so sincere but her tone was definitive. She had her own secrets and people to protect.

“When you have a response for the Earl, send a note my way. I will make sure it crosses the channel”.

Britt saunters towards the door when Sander can’t help but show his hand.

“The Prince of Swords. What's his game?”

Britt pauses and looks back at Sander puzzled but curious.

“The Prince, don’t underestimate him; he is a great strategist and has the ability to command an army if need be.”

“Does he want to be king like his father?”

“No he does not but his people want him to. They respect him. They speak of his kindness and fairness above all. He also quells the fears of a French invasion; he has been betrothed to the Princess of France since he was a child. The people call their union the great love story. Betrothed since birth and genuinely a love marriage. Nice for some I guess....”

Sander gives Britt an ambivalent chuckle. A love marriage? What a foreign concept for both of them.

“Is that all?” Sander tacks on to the end of the conversation. Egging on Britt’s conniving ways,

“Does he have any secrets?” Sander finally just asks.

“No, he is clean. If you were to ask me to clean. Everyone is hiding something but it seems like the Prince of Swords is perfect.”

“There is no such thing. Everyone has a secret”

“Exactly” Britt agrees.

“Find out whatever the Prince is hiding and you’ll have the iron and maybe even the chance to be king. All you have to do is to get him to trust you and as soon as he does take the iron away from him.”

Sander nods in agreement.

“Play the Prince at his own game” Sander states with venom in his voice and continues.

“In the end.....” 

“I only have one goal”

“To make the prince regret he ever met me.”

[ravenbrenna09]

Remember when I said I wasn’t entertaining this idea (yeah, I don’t either)? Well, I’m not, technically, but I might consider making this story one day (when Hogwarts AU, Twitch Streamer Robbe, and FWB are all done and completed and never before). 

HTTYD 1 Spoilers

Note: Sander is 17 and Robbe is 15

Robbe is not the son of the Chief with his long brown hair that’s growing a little too long for his liking and a couple clothes with holes in them. But, he’s still very much the social outcast of the Vikings. His mother is a seamstress who specializes in battle armor and his uncle works at the blacksmith shop near his house (which Robbe helps out frequently during nightly raids) and Robbe’s mind is full of ideas. He can barely lift an axe, let alone throw it, and his friends, the few that he does have, similarly tease him for it. But, he’s going to prove that he is as much as Viking as anyone else in this village.

In contrast, Sander is the son of the Chief with his signature leather jacket and hair that he somehow managed to get several shades lighter by using berries. Raised to take over the village from the very beginning of his life, Sander has trained hard and fast for the strategy and combat that comes with it. But, in reality, Sander would rather sit in the trees and sketch the sunset than fight and kill dragons or whatever the Viking way was. But, his father is strict in what he wants and Sander has to follow them. He’s going to be the next Chief and his father has been the best Chief the village has. 

On the night of a raid, Robbe manages to shoot a Nightfury out of the sky, half-based on luck and half-based on his mind. The village doesn’t believe him and mocks him for it but his mother implores him to never give up hope and to trust his own mind. Unbeknownst to him, it was the first night that Sander truly laid eyes on him (they live on opposite sides of the village and rarely interact and Robbe knows him, not the other way around) and Sander’s never seen anyone so beautiful in the aftermath of being humiliated. 

Robbe sneaks out to the forest and finds a nightfury tied up. But, when Robbe tries to kill him, because it’s the Viking way, he physically can’t do so and quickly undoes his bounds. The freed-dragon tackles him and roars with a warning before flying off. Unsurprisingly, Robbe faints shortly after managing to stand up and is found by Sander, who escapes into the forest to get away from his father. The two of them talk as they head back to the village, Robbe trying not to feel embarrassed in front of the Chief’s son, and the two of them end up in the village. The Chief comes around and informs Sander they’re leaving to find the dragon’s nest as well as the fact that everyone at and below the age of 17 is going to be put into mandatory dragon training.

Great, Robbe thinks.

Despite fumbling on the first day of training, Robbe shows to have a way with the dragons, never outright attacking them but managing to back them in a corner. After training and dinner, Robbe frequently goes into the forest and searches out the nightfury, his new friend, who he likes to call Toothless, in hopes of helping him fly again because he was the one that caused him to be unable to. In the process, he’s learned a lot about dragons. One day, as he’s trying to flee, he runs across Sander, who followed him to the blacksmith, and questions him on what he’s working on. 

Despite being the chief’s son, despite being able to take (or arguably needing to) all the glory, Sander’s simply curious about Robbe and where he disappears to. In the muted light of the blacksmith, the two nearly kiss but are interrupted by Senne De Smet, Sander’s only friend and another trainee. Sander leaves and Robbe disappears into the forest yet again and flies for the first time, exploring the world on the top of a night fury. 

when the Chief returns and Robbe was named the Champion of the Training, getting the “honor” of killing his first dragon, the boy plans on leaving the village, knowing that he’s unable to kill a dragon. He leaves a note for his mom and his uncle and grabs a sack of clothes and flees into the forest, intending on flying away on Toothless and never returning. Sander sees him fleeing and follows him. In the coven where Robbe and Toothless meet up, Sander sees the night fury and is amazed. Upon realizing that Sander had followed him, Robbe is panicking, thinking that Sander is going to tell the Chief and have Toothless killed, and Sander admits that he’s never been interested in killing dragons, admitting that’s what he thought that’s what he had to be. for a minute, the two of them are quiet and Robbe questions "what if there’s more?”

Toothless doesn’t trust Sander, at least not at first. From the minute that the Chief’s son walked into the coven, he’s suspicious and on guard, baring his teeth and growling at him as he stepped closer. But, Robbe, his friend, didn’t seem wary of him, just nervous for Toothless if the village found out. But, Toothless didn’t have to like this guy. But, when Robbe offers to show him how to fly, there’s a mystical look on this new guy’s face and okay, maybe, he’ll like him a little bit. But, first, he’s going to make it a little difficult for him after making Robbe so anxious in the beginning. 

Okay, so after Toothless managed to settle down, Sander seemed to be enjoying the flight. Though, to be fair, he seemed to be enjoying it either way but the constant whipping and bobbing into the water was getting on Robbe’s nerves more than Sander’s. Flying above the clouds, Sander looked like he was trying to memorize the world around them, his arms wound tightly around Robbe’s waist and gently patting Toothless’s sides to reassure him. High above the clouds, they almost kiss again, getting frighteningly close this time. 

But, then, Toothless senses something and they’re thrown into the dragon’s nest, deep within a mountain surrounded by dense fog, and almost caught by the giant dragon that’s ordering the others to get it food in its teeth and they barely manage to escape back to the village unharmed. For the first time, Robbe and Sander fight, a little. Sander wants to tell his father about the nest but Robbe knows that they’ll have to explain how they found it and Toothless’s life would be in danger. But, Sander understands because he would do anything to protect his friends. 

Before heading into the village, Sander, in a particularly bold move, backs Robbe against a tree and kisses him. Shrouded in the darkness that the forest provided at night, the two kiss each other in earnest and continue to do so until they’re nearly discovered by someone walking past the forest. 

Before Robbe’s “kill” the next morning, Sander comes down next to the pit to see that Robbe is standing nervously at the edge of the pit. Robbe comments that his mother is waiting in the crowd and says that she’s proud of him. He admits that he’s not going to be able to kill the dragon with all he knows and Sander replies that he knows. Robbe makes Sander promise that the village won’t find Toothless if something happens to him and Sander affirms before asking “try not to get killed okay?” Robbe nods his head and Sander kisses him in the shadows before the gate starts to rise.

Naturally, everything goes to shit. 

When the dragon is startled by someone beating against the cage and starts shooting fire at Robbe, his shouts are heard enough to cause Toothless to flee the coven and head in the direction of the village. Meanwhile, Sander and Jens are both trying to get into the cage with him. Jens manages to get the gate open but only Sander can push himself beneath it. As the others try to get it open more, Sander rushes to get the dragons attention and manages it but only for a little while before Robbe gets pinned. But, Toothless breaks through the cage and fights the dragon, practically beating it into submission.

However, the Vikings quickly overtake Toothless and it’s only Robbe’s shout that causes him to stop fighting before he killed the Chief, Sander’s father. Robbe begs them not to hurt him as Sander holds him back and Toothless struggles not to fight. Back in the Chief’s House, the Chief rails into both of them, and Sander accidentally reveals that they know where the nest is and only a dragon can find it. Without another word, the warriors of the tribe head off with Toothless in tow.

Unable to sit back as they go to their deaths, Robbe wants to do more and knows that he might be able to stop or at least help them. Sander questions what he wants. He and the other warriors bond with dragons before flying off after the village. Once they arrive, the battle already in chaos, Sander is the one that lists off the order trainees to the others before going off to drop Robbe with Toothless at the ship. After wishing him luck, he goes to help in the fight.

But, Robbe can’t undo the chains on Toothless and they’re both knocked in the water. Robbe swims to him and attempts to free him, but he’s too weak and ends up nearly falling unconscious. However, he’s pulled from the water by the Chief, who dives back in for Toothless. Now free from the chains, Toothless soars out of the water, bringing the Chief with him, and Robbe hops on his back, ready to take flight. The Chief apologizes for his choice words, telling him to be careful because he can tell that Robbe is important to Sander. 

After his words, he takes flight. 

When Sander is knocked off his dragon by the head dragon, Toothless manages to catch him in time to which Robbe expresses relief. Now that all of the other trainees are on the ground, Robbe and Toothless work together to beat the dragon by pulling him into the air and igniting the gas in its mouth as it attempts to fire at them. In an attempt to escape with only one working tail fin (the one that Robbe manufactured was burnt up in the battle), Robbe is knocked off Toothless’s saddle and falls into the flames and Toothless dives to catch him, managing to do so and shielding him from the flames. 

When Toothless sees Sander running towards him, Toothless opens his wings and reveals to him that he did manage to catch him before he was engulfed (and killed) by the flames. Sander nearly weeps with relief, holding onto Robbe and reaching out to touch Toothless. The Chief comes up and comments that they need to get back to the village quickly to get his foot looked at. 

Robbe wakes up in his home with Toothless resting beside him. At first, Robbe freaks out and Toothless is ecstatic that he’s up, racing around the room and knocking stuff over, but as Robbe goes to stop him, he realizes something and looks down at his foot, which is now replaced with a wooden leg. Toothless helps him up and they head outside where dragons are now abundant and working with the Vikings now that they aren’t being forced to find food. The Chief is the first one to reach him and comments on his new foot. Robbe glances around and questions where Sander is. 

Suddenly, there he is, jumping off the back of a Deadly Nadder and moves towards him, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and kissing him in front of the entire village. The village hoots and cheers them on as Robbe pulls him closer. Sander pulls back and says, “I thought I told you to try not to get killed.” Robbe rolls his eyes and his mother comes up, hugging both of them tightly before moving to question Robbe on the state of his leg and if he has any pain. Sander comments that the wooden leg was his first piece and Robbe replies that he loves it. Sander blushes and admits that it could use some work before Robbe says that they can work on it together. 

Then, the two of them take flight with the rest of the trainees.

Alright, now, I’m going to bed. 

[nessauepa]

Allow me to generalize for a minute. But I am so confused about the lack of mass support for skam NL. Above all else, they are a really good looking cast. & on average, the fandom really lets slip that having a good looking cast is half the battle of winning over the audience. How is skam NL not on every skam remake lovers radar? I guess it can't be overlooked that the most pop remake actors with the international audience are the older, white actors, but still..

Please, if you haven't watched skam nl, don't skip this. Why other Skam version stans should watch skam nl:

Enjoyed Druck's out of this world soundtrack, well, Skam NL is your champion

Do you worship Senne and can't believe he is a William? Check Noah

Is it important to you representation and diversity? POC Jonas! POC Noora! POC Ingrid!

Do you always make up headcanons for Cris or Vildes characters being bi? Take Cris (Jans) and shots of her kissing girls. Yeah, skam nl does that

You like Spain's Vilde (Viri?) You will love Engel

It can't be coincidence that Skam NL has my favorites: girl squad, Eva, Vilde, girl Cris, Noora and William

They love slow motion and things like William slow mo walking with literal confettis thrown to the air

And finally, they have all clips on youtube, non geoblocked and with one zillion languages available!!!!!

Here is one of my favorite clips, the first one from season 2. It's fucking short, just give it a try. Don't forget Lucas VDL has not found his Even 🤧

If you have watched skam nl already, add comments with your favorite thing about it

[antoine-roquentin]

For more than a decade, the department’s Immigration and Customs Enforcement has come under fire for its use of dental and bone scans. Congressional committees twice have directed ICE to stop subjecting youths to the procedures. A federal audit questioned the scientific validity of bone and dental scans to determine age with much precision. 

“Using radiographs of a person’s bones or teeth … cannot produce a specific age due to a range of factors affecting an individual’s growth,” the audit states. “These include normal biological variation, as well as cultural and ethnic differences.”

Mixing juveniles and adults in immigration detention centers violates a longstanding federal decree. But youths who arrive in the country unaccompanied often lack official documents such as birth certificates, and immigration authorities are legally required to make a determination on age within a few days...

The Washington Post’s Radley Balko has chronicled challenges to a bite-mark analysis championed by Senn. In 2016, Texas Monthly wrote that the Texas Forensic Science Commission was examining use of bite-mark evidence in criminal cases and gathering input from experts, including Senn, who insisted that bite-mark analysis was based on science.

In making his case to the commission, The Dallas Morning News reported that Senn invoked the need to keep children safe. Bite-mark analysis, for instance, has been used in child abuse cases.

“If this committee decides to declare a moratorium on bite-mark analysis, children will suffer,” he said.

But today, X-ray dental reports by Senn and other medical professionals working with ICE can end up sending minors to adult detention centers, which may not be safe for them.

“This practice has led to the erroneous placement of children in facilities commingled with adults who may seek to prey upon young children,” the House Appropriations Committee stated in its 2008 funding bill. “The Committee directs the Department to cease immediately its reliance on fallible forensic evidence as determinative of a child’s age, and provides no funding for this activity.”

Adams, whose client was released from an adult detention center despite Senn’s age estimation, said he believes dental and bone scan analyses are “basically giving rubber stamps to ICE to strip children of the protections they should receive.”

next generation phrenology

[luvetlux]

James Joyce reads “Anna Livia Plurabelle” from Finnegans Wake 

Well, you know or don't you kennet or haven't I told you every telling has a taling and that's the he and the she of it. Look, look, the dusk is growing! My branches lofty are taking root.

And my cold cher's gone ashley. Fieluhr? Filou! What age is at? It saon is late. 'Tis endless now senne eye or erewone last saw Waterhouse's clogh. They took it asunder, I hurd thum sigh.

When will they reassemble it? O, my back, my back, my bach! I'd want to go to Aches-les-Pains. Pingpong! There's the Belle for Sexaloitez! And Concepta de Send-us-pray! Pang! Wring out the clothes! Wring in the dew! Godavari, vert the showers! And grant thaya grace! Aman. Will we spread them here now? Ay, we will.

Flip ! Spread on your bank and I'll spread mine on mine. Flep! It's what I'm doing. Spread ! It's churning chill. Der went is rising. I'll lay a few stones on the hostel sheets. A man and his bride embraced between them. Else I'd have sprinkled and folded them only.

And I'll tie my butcher's apron here. It's suety yet. The strollers will pass it by. Six shifts, ten kerchiefs, nine to hold to the fire and this for the code, the convent napkins, twelve, one baby's shawl. Good mother Jossiph knows, she said. Whose head? Mutter snores?

Deataceas! Wharnow are alle her childer, say? In kingdome gone or power to come or gloria be to them farther? Allalivial, allalluvial!

Some here, more no more, more again lost alla stranger. I've heard tell that same brooch of the Shannons was married into a family in Spain.

And all the Dunders de Dunnes in Markland's Vineland beyond Brendan's herring pool takes number nine in yangsee's hats. And one of Biddy's beads went bobbing till she rounded up lost histereve with a marigold and a cobbler's candle in a side strain of a main drain of a manzinahurries off Bachelor's Walk. But all that's left to the last of the Meaghers in the loup of the years prefixed and between is one kneebuckle and two hooks in the front. Do you tell me. that now?

I do in troth. Orara por Orbe and poor Las Animas! Ussa, Ulla, we're umbas all! Mezha, didn't you hear it a deluge of times, ufer and ufer, respund to spond? You deed, you deed! I need, I need! It's that irrawaddyng I've stoke in my aars. It all but husheth the lethest zswound. Oronoko ! What's your trouble? Is that the great Finnleader himself in his joakimono on his statue riding the high horse there forehengist? Father of Otters, it is himself! Yonne there! Isset that? On Fallareen Common? You're thinking of Astley's Amphitheayter where the bobby restrained you making sugarstuck pouts to the ghostwhite horse of the Peppers. Throw the cobwebs from your eyes, woman, and spread your washing proper! It's well I know your sort of slop. Flap! Ireland sober is Ireland stiff Lord help you, Maria, full of grease, the load is with me! Your prayers. I sonht zo! Madammangut! Were you lifting your elbow, tell us, glazy cheeks, in Conway's Carrigacurra canteen? Was I what, hobbledyhips? Flop! Your rere gait's creakorheuman bitts your butts disagrees. Amn't I up since the damp dawn, marthared mary allacook, with Corrigan's pulse and varicoarse veins, my pramaxle smashed, Alice Jane in decline and my oneeyed mongrel twice run over, soaking and bleaching boiler rags, and sweating cold, a widow like me, for to deck my tennis champion son, the laundryman with the lavandier flannels? You won your limpopo limp fron the husky hussars when Collars and Cuffs was heir to the town and your slur gave the stink to Carlow. Holy Scamander, I sar it again! Near the golden falls. Icis on us! Seints of light! Zezere! Subdue your noise, you hamble creature! What is it but a blackburry growth or the dwyergray ass them four old codgers owns. Are you meanam Tarpey and Lyons and Gregory? I meyne now, thank all, the four of them, and the roar of them, that draves that stray in the mist and old Johnny MacDougal along with them. Is that the Poolbeg flasher beyant, pharphar, or a fireboat coasting nyar the Kishtna or a glow I behold within a hedge or my Garry come back from the Indes? Wait till the honeying of the lune, love! Die eve, little eve, die! We see that wonder in your eye. We'll meet again, we'll part once more. The spot I'll seek if the hour you'll find. My chart shines high where the blue milk's upset. Forgivemequick, I'm going! Bubye! And you, pluck your watch, forgetmenot. Your evenlode. So save to jurna's end! My sights are swimming thicker on me by the shadows to this place. I sow home slowly now by own way, moy-valley way. Towy I too, rathmine.

Rec: London, 1929  Recording: James Joyce

[dgiacomo]

[All the full images for the tournament, uncropped!]

[discet]

World Building June - Aeth

From these prompts

Day 5. What sorts of civilizations and architecture fill your world?

oooh fun so for this lets bring back THE MAP 

So lets go from West to East, and since this will take forever to do by nation were going to do by larger cultural. 

Yamun Culture 

Para Empire / Khakata Kingdom / Durai Dynasty 

Yamun is names for a large river that cuts through the subcontinent (The tail end of which you can see in Para’s borders). It has a massive mountain range south of it and is thus largely isolated. The Lich King Cataclysm led to a deep seeded fear of magic in society. There is little trust in Mages and are controlled obsessively by religious leaders in communities.  

While arguably first populated in the foothills of the mountains by the talon-legged Saek, most of the lowlands were populated by seabound Harc in the north by sea and by nomadic Senn in the south. While overlooked, evidence exists that the Dwem tribes in the deep jungles seemed to predate all these groups. This makes Yamun one of the most genetically mixed cultures in the world. 

It is one of the most religiously diverse cultures as well, several religious beliefs were founded in Yamun and have spread through trade routes. While there is some tension between the differing religions, its so mixed that no government can afford the strife of stoking those tensions through oppressive action. Which is good because-

Governance

Yamun governance is very unstable historically. Its caste system is a left over relic of the age of sorcery, which served fine under the unyielding rule of an infallible (or at least dominant) sorcerer king, it has become increasingly seen as oppressive by scholar described “rabble rousers”. As such attempts of uniting the sub-continent has been difficult as rival kingdoms are often dealing with internal strife as often as external conflict. Thus borders are often shifting and new kingdoms spawn from charismatic opportunistic individuals.

Architecture

The Capitals: The capitals refer to the great cities that are a holdover of the old Age of Sorceries. Enchantments that are maintained but not understood. Self cleaning roads, glittering changing mosaics that shift with the day championing long gone royal lines. The Capitals, as they became more populace and out grew the old enchantments boundaries left stark differences between the rich center of the cities and the poorer slums. 

Shaded Roads: The shaded roads are an attempt by the current kings and the Age of Empires to capture a bit of the glory that the old Sorcerer kings. The roads are maintained by proto-sentient trees who spread, giving traders shade across the hot humid roads of Yamun. They weave together bridges from their roots and replant any trees that are cut down or destroyed by acts of nature. 

Myr Freeholds Culture

Myr is an offshoot of Yamun culture that occurred early into the Age of Empires. The Myr freeholds are a series of islands that are largely too rocky for natural cultivation that are not united in any way shape or form, they are filled with mages who escaped the oppressive culture of Yamun. Its economy is largely built on piracy with mages maintaining great defensive fortresses on the islands. They plague trade in the Aeth sea and are increadibly difficult to crack. Most of the local kingdoms are too busy with land conflicts to build up a navy capable of rooting out the fortresses and other Aeth nations are too far away to make such an expedition anything other than financial suicide. 

It is the closest remaining vestige of the old sorcerer king cultures, as it was founded by the last heir of a Sorcerer king culture in Yamun, establishing the first fortress. Being the new master of this ancient fortress is a great honor and influential in the largely prestiege based politics of Myr. 

Architecture

Arguably some of the most impressive post-cataclysm magical structures are found in Myr. The Myr fortresses are the nightmare of the siege engineers. The harbor is built inside, ships magically shrunk between the coast and the internal harbor. the few landing sites of these islands are overlooked by hundreds of murder holes. As the fortresses are all internal, there are no walls to really scale. The one or two entrances lead to long winding halls that delay attackers. All  giving the masters and their apprentices the ability to cast from safety. The interior harbor are great grand halls filled with inns, brothels, and the homes of their ship wrights. They are decorated with the stolen luxuries from all across Aeth. Much of the city is hewed from the rock with the home of the master more ornate and set apart. Generally called the academy. 

Sacre Culture

High Kingdom of Sacre / Sacre Hinterlands / Sacre Orda

The Sacre is the homeland of the Senn and are full of nomadic herding culture. While there are many differences between its widely ununited cultures, it has a few things that unites them. The pantheon of the Alter of Flames and language being the broadest. (Though how the religion is practiced varies wildly).

Sacre culture was a big innovator in the Age of Sorcery, discovering and utilizing mundane inventions that gave them a leg up on the settled cultures over reliance on magic. As long as they steered clear of the sorcerer kings or their heirs, Sacre bands could raid and pillage just about anywhere they could reach. This also made them saviors during the Lich Cataclysm as their forces were largely mundane and supported by magic rather than depending on it. Especially in Basalt and in some cases in Yamun and modern Tyre Sacre bloodlines sat at the head of government for centuries. 

Governance 

Wealth in Sacre culture comes from one’s herd. Power in Sacre culture comes from the loyalty of one’s Shepard. As with the nomadic nature of the people Sacre governance is fluid. Inheritance of title and wealth is split evenly among living children on a parents death and thus is territory in the case of a leader. This leads to many kingdoms not surviving one’s lifetime. If heirs are not capable, they are often abandoned for stronger leaders. While often derided as bloodthirsty warlords, Sacre politics is often cited as the inspiration of early democracies. Gaining a title in Sacre culture was functionally an election, in which a powerful warlord would call a Kurultai and tribes would either come in support of the warlord or not come to show their lack of support. 

Architecture

As a nomadic nation the architecture is far more practical than grand. While there are some permanent buildings in the religious bonfires, maintained by their religious leaders, most structures are able to be backed up and packed onto a horses backs.

Basalt Culture

The United Houses of Basalt / House Hiran

Basalt culture is inseparable from the Imperium of Basalt. The Imperium was a giant on the sage of Aeth for most of the Age of Empires. Founded by a Sacre warlord overthrowing the local Lich. This Lich was the most successful of his brothers who convinced many of the local lords as allies, maintaining power through more sane subordinates at the cost of their peasants. Once this broke down the southern lords who saw the tide of death they invited a powerful warlord to overthrow the Lich. After their success the warlord adopted the parts of local culture to adapt to a settled society while bringing in Sacre practical beliefs that made the Army of Basalt the most powerful military in Aeth. 

Its major religion, the Order of the flame started as an offshoot of Sacre Pantheon, which has changed radically in the millennia of the Imperiums existence. The pantheon has been dropped in favor of a nebulous spirit of humanities ideals. The core belief of the religion calls for believers to do good deeds to combat the chaos that threatens a larger war for humanities soul, staging the defeat of the liches as a great moment in this struggle. The righteous monarch is seen as a guiding hand for humanity to provide structure and stability to allow humanity to do these good deeds without worrying as much about survival. As a result the monarch is partly seen as holy. 

This has recently broken down. The line of Magus, the group who founded the Imperium was overthrown for abuse of authority. While the Shah’s who allied with the rebels were seen as hereos, none of the rebel Shah’s could manage to seize total power and settled into an uneasy alliance between their realms. This alliance fragility proven when House Hiran, one of the rebels broke off to be their own kingdom. Long enemies of the Empire like Tyre and Sur wait for the cracks to grow, to seize territory they long coveted. 

Governance

Basalt is deeply seated in the feudal structure that has existed since before the cataclysm. Shah’s rule their territories, loyal until recently to a central Padshah. Now long rivalries between bloodlines threaten to dissolve the legacy of Magus and. It has a deeply embedded bureaucracy that is holding things together, but without a central government to provide oversight, it is rapidly becoming corrupted and will rote away the heart of the empire beneath the feet of its once heroic Shahs. 

Architecture

The Obsidian Keep: The heart of the Imperium. The Obsidian keep was once the throne of the Lich, built into the side of a volcano, it is enchanted to use the lava within its home in its defense, able to flood its empty moats in its defense. The Keep itself is a massive fortress with three rings of walls backed by the steep side of the volcano. Its walls before the rebellion was engraved with the various triumphs of Basalts Padshah’s. The summit of the volcano serves as one of the greatest Temple of Fire in Basalt.

The Marble City: A luxurious city on the Penninsula is a city carved from a marble quarry. Starting as a great trade city for marble. Its position made it wealthy enough to carve luxury buildings from the quarry. It has since become a city of grand fireproof libraries and academies, dedicated to the training of Alchemists, Mages and other scholarly pursuits. The density of geomancers allow the marble to be restructured as needed, rather than stagnant. It is often the sight of experimental architecture and a shifting skyline that sailors can catch as they come to harbor. 

Acrean Culture

Sur Dynasty / Citystate of Acre / Tanu Tradeposts

Acrean culture is born from an ancient culture of city states. These were religious states who saw their sorcerer kings as their gods come to earth. Each state had a different patron god. In the cataclysm most of these cities fell alone rather than joining together. With the exception of the last readout of Acre. Its godking brought the refugee’s flooding into his streets and forged a army to combat the oncoming undead. After retaking the city and the tragic death of this heroic lord, the culture elevated the god of Acre to head of the pantheon. The defeat of the Liches requiring the sacrifice of the Gods mortal connection to the world.

In the age of Empires Acre holds a position as a religious pilgrimage site. Natural Mages are seen as divine tools of the gods while those who are brought up as priests. Acrean culture is often seen as a trading culture, who are some of the most adept sailors in Aeth, countered only by the Myr Pirates. Masters of desert warfare they were the main enemy of Sinai until the rise of the Tyrean Empire bottled it to the north penninsula. 

Governance

The citystate is run as a theocracy by the priests of the main temple, while Sur resembles a more common monarchy with legitimacy of lords confirmed by priests.

Architecture

Great Temples: While many of the original city states were destroyed in the initial conquest of the lich and then again in their retaking, Acre stands shining and untouched. Its skyline is dominated by the great ziggurat of the God of Acre. While made of simple stone, it floats above the ground two stories off the ground. One of the early enchantments of the last sorcerer kings. 

Tanu Culture

The Tanu by legend originated as a group who were driven to the brink of extinction, pushed to the very coastal mountains by the horde of monsters that dominated the Hunting Grounds to the East. This was until one day when the great hunters invented the first spears and bows of the world, something to put them on even ground with the monsters. They have since regained the territory of the peninsula, now going into the hunting grounds is a badge of honor and the harvesting of its creatures is the main source of income for the Tanu city states 

Tanu, as a Shaman majority culture were little effected by cataclysm. did take it as an opportunity to take the lich held territory in Acre to give them a place to stage trade from. The Tanu have a host of many beliefs that they have absorbed through trade, some bleeding over into each other and has created a very pluralistic culture. Its traditional pantheon has been adopted and inducted into Mythical canon. The Acrean pantheon has become a big influence on the Tanu trade posts. Arashin from Basalt is one often taken by Tanu Chiefs.

Governance

Tanu in general have fairly insular territories, a unified fear of a monster horde keeps most wars from breaking out and they are generally too far away from things to worry about foreign invasions. While there are no true wars there are several yearly competitions that focus on proving the strengths of cities top hunters. These are generally beloved competitions and move from city to city over the years. 

Architecture

As a nation of shamans they do not have any of the awe inspiring great structures from the A.o.S, they have many innovative buildings unique in construction and materials. Brightly painted and ornately carved. 

Vinrum Culture

Tyre Empires / Sinai Dominion / Nov Republic

Oh god near the end. So Vinrum is a a descriptor for the coastal around the smaller Vinrum Sea in the east. Its closer territories has made it a much more conflicted territory All of their histories far more interconnected. 

The greatest commonality is the widespread of the Mythic Canon. A aggressive polytheistic cult that seeks to adapt and induct all pantheons. Sorting the gods and their myths into various monolithic archetypes who represents single gods acting in many cultures. While largely successfully in their attempts of conversion, it has run up to severe resistance in the Acrean territories who take their attempts to sort their gods as an insult. 

[districofcolumbiaprelawland-blog]

Messi V. Barcelona

By Isher Gill, The George Washington University Class of 2020

September 13, 2020

On August 14, in the Champions League Quarter-Final, Bayern Munich humiliated Lionel Messi and Barcelona Football (Soccer) Club by a score of 8-2. Ten days later, Messi, arguably the greatest soccer player of all time, sent a “burofax” to executives at the club informing them of his demand to leave Barcelona.[1] This sent the club, and soccer world into shock with a clause in Messi’s contract causing much confusion. The following will attempt to explain (1) what a burofax is, (2A) how Barcelona FC interprets its contract with Messi,(2B) how Messi interprets his contract with the club, and (3) the resolution of this dispute.

Part I: What is a Burofax?

A burofax is a popular legal service in Spain. Lexidy Law Boutique describes it as “a legal notice which has the capability of being produced in court. [This] includes certification of reception to addressee.[2]” The Spanish equivalent of a notary public, a burofax is a secure way of business communication between two parties exchanging urgent, and confidential matter.

In Messi’s case, he sent a burofax to Barcelona informing the club of his desire to leave the club, citing a clause in his contract that allows him to move to another club for free.

Part II: The Contract

In 2017, Messi signed a contract extension with Barcelona until the summer of 2021. The contract specified a release cause of€700 million.[3] In other words, the only way another team could get Messi to play for them is if they paid Barcelona €700 million. However, also inserted into Messi’s contract was a clause that gave Messi the power to demand a move to another club for no transfer fee. This clause would expire on June 10 of every year, or in other words, ten days after the Champions League Final (the end of the season).

The Barcelona Interpretation

Barcelona executives believe the clause did not expire ten days after the season ended. They believe that the clause expired on June 10 regardless of when the season ended. The club insist that the only way Messi can leave this summer is if another club pays his €700 million release clause. Given the astronomical price, plus financial constraints due to the pandemic, no club would be able to pay the fee, thus keeping Messi at Barcelona for another year.

LaLiga, the domestic league in which Barcelona plays, released a statement in support of the club:

“With regard to the various interpretations (some of which are contradictory) published by a number of media outlets in recent days in relation to the contractual situation surrounding FC Barcelona player Lionel Andrés Messi, after having studied his contract with the club, LaLiga considers it appropriate to clarify that:

The contract is currently in force and features a release clause to be applied in the event that Lionel Andrés Messi should decide to activate the early unilateral termination of the contract, vid pursuant to Article 16 of the Royal Decree 1006/1985 of 26 June, which regulates the specific labour status of professional athletes.

In line with the regulations and procedure that apply in such instances, LaLiga shall not proceed with the release required for the player to be deregistered from the Spanish Football Federation unless the aforementioned clause has been paid.[4]”

For reference, Article 16 of the Royal Decree states that:

“The termination of the contract by the will of the professional sportsman without cause attributable to the club, shall confer entitlement to the Club to a compensation that in absence of agreement, will be fixed by the Labor Jurisdiction according to the specific sporting circumstances, the damaged inflicted to the entity, the reasons of the rupture and further elements that the Judge deems appropriate. In case that within one year from the termination, the sportsman enters into a contract with other club or sporting entity, they will be subsidiarily liable of the payment of the aforesaid recompense.[5]”

To summarize the previous passages: LaLiga and Barcelona believe that Messi’s contract is valid until next summer, and if Messi leaves to play for another club, that club owes Barcelona €700 million.

The Messi Interpretation

Messi, and his team of agents and lawyers believe he should be allowed to leave for free. They state that the clause in his contract gives Messi the legal ability to do so. Messi’s camp argues that because the Coronavirus pandemic delayed the Champions League Final from May 30 to August 23, the season did not end until August 23.[6] Under Messi’s interpretation, he would have had until September 3 to declare his desire to leave Barcelona for free. With his demand to leave the club coming on August 25, he should be allowed to join another club for free.

Following LaLiga’s letter stating that Messi’s release clause must be paid, Messi’s father, Jorge, released a statement saying:

"We do not know what contract La Liga has analysed, and what are the bases on which they conclude that the 'termination clause' is not applicable if the player urges the unilateral termination of it with effect from the completion of the 2019-20 sports season.

This is due to an obvious error on La Liga's part.

As stated in a clause of the contract signed between the club and the player: 'This compensation will not apply when the termination of the contract by unilateral decision of the player takes effect from the conclusion of the 2019-20 sports season.'

Without prejudice to other rights that are included in the contract and that La Liga omits, it is obvious that the compensation of €700m does not apply at all.[7]"

Part III: The Solution

After the back-and-forth between his camp, LaLiga, and Barcelona, Messi decided to settle the matter himself. On September 4, Messi called a press conference and stated his decision to stay at the club. Citing a desire not to go to court to settle the contract dispute, Messi relented, and revoked his transfer request. However, in his remarks, Messi mentioned his disapproval at how the club managed the situation:

“I wasn’t happy and I wanted to leave. I have not been allowed this in any way and I will stay at the club so as not to get into a legal dispute. The management of the club led by Bartomeu is a disaster.

I would never go for a trial against the club of my life. Hence, I’m staying.[8]”

With the matter settled, one can only speculate as to how dramatic a trial between Messi and Barcelona would be. For now, sports fans can now move on to wondering how Barcelona intend to repair its relationship with an all-time great.

________________________________________________________________

Chakraborty, Sujay. 2020. Lionel Messi's Contract Clause That Allows Him To Walk Out Of Barca For FREE: Explained. August 26. https://www.republicworld.com/sports-news/football-news/lionel-messi-contract-clause-that-allows-him-to-walk-for-free-at-barca.html.

Illustrated, Sports. 2020. Lionel Messi's contract states he CAN leave for free - Barcelona president branded a "clown" by journalist for not knowing. August 31. https://www.si.com/soccer/manchestercity/news/lionel-messis-contract-states-he-can-leave-for-free-barcelona-president-branded-a-clown-by-journalist-for-not-knowing.

LaLiga. 30. LaLiga Release Statement on Messi. August 30. https://www.kickoff.com/news/articles/world-news/categories/news/laliga/laliga-release-statement-on-lionel-messi-s-saga/684588.

Lexidy Law Boutique. n.d. Burofax In Span. https://www.lexidy.com/boutique-online-legal-services/burofax-spain-2020/.

Lowe, Sid. 2020. Messi, bad blood and a burofax: What you need to know about the GOAT's breakup with Barcelona. August 26. https://www.espn.com/soccer/barcelona/story/4164750/messibad-blood-and-a-burofax-what-you-need-to-know-about-the-goats-breakup-with-barcelona.

Messi, Jorge. 2020. September 4.

Messi, Lionel. 2020. BREAKING: Lionel Messi To Stay At Barcelona… Holds Press Conference. September 4. https://iharare.com/lionel-messi-to-stay-at-barcelona/.

—. 2020. BREAKING: Lionel Messi To Stay At Barcelona… Holds Press Conference. September 4. https://iharare.com/lionel-messi-to-stay-at-barcelona/.

Senn Ferrero Sports & Entertainment. n.d. Spanish buy-out clauses, Legal and Tax perspective. http://www.sennferrero.com/es/opinion/415-spanish-buy-out-clauses-legal-and-tax-perspective.

Sports Illustrated. 2020. Lionel Messi's contract states he CAN leave for free - Barcelona president branded a "clown" by journalist for not knowing. August 31. https://www.si.com/soccer/manchestercity/news/lionel-messis-contract-states-he-can-leave-for-free-barcelona-president-branded-a-clown-by-journalist-for-not-knowing.

[1](Chakraborty 2020)

[2](Lexidy Law Boutique n.d.)

[3](Sports Illustrated 2020)

[4](LaLiga 30)

[5](Senn Ferrero Sports & Entertainment n.d.)

[6](Lowe 2020)

[7](Messi 2020)

[8](L. Messi, BREAKING: Lionel Messi To Stay At Barcelona… Holds Press Conference 2020)

Photo Credit: Addesolen

[scottbcrowley2]

Wrestling: Mead has 4 champions to win Pacific Northwest Classic - Sat, 07 Jan 2017 PST

Chase Randall (106), Matt Jones (120), Devante Goodman (145), and Trevor Senn (182) all captured first place titles to help Mead win the Pacific Northwest Classic at University. Wrestling: Mead has 4 champions to win Pacific Northwest Classic - Sat, 07 Jan 2017 PST

[ravenbrenna09]

I can’t stop seeing Sander as Marnie in the Galar Region. The son/brother of a Gym Leader in a town that’s mostly forgotten. With a hangry Morpeko on his shoulder at all times, that only seems to like one of his friends, Senne, but always seems to be happy for that curly-haired up-and-coming trainer from Postwick who has a recommendation from the Champion (and also happens to be their brother).

Come on. 

It writes itself!

[erikay-blog1]

Gave too many scoring chances on both sides

In that time, Stewart has experienced more highs and lows than Favre and Warner combined. He entered the league in 1995 with the reputation as a player who could do anything. The Steelers used him as a receiver, running back, quarterback and even punter, his versatility earning him the nickname "Slash" from his combative coach, Bill Cowher..

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Tottenham Hotspur pushed Leicester City all the way during the 2015 2016 Premier League season to secure a Champions League berth for the first time since the 2010 2011 season. While there are plenty of things the North London club is doing right, their new gold third kit is not one of them. While manager Cluede Puel and his squad still have a few weeks to prove themselves, the debut effort from Under Armour is less than impressive..

Cheap Jerseys from china No Basis: What the Studies Don't Tell Us About Same Sex Parenting, Washington DC ; Marriage Law Project/Ethics and Public Policy Center, 2001.3 P. Morgan, Children as Trophies? Examining the Evidence on Same sex Parenting, Newcastle upon Tyne, UK ; Christian Institute, 2002.4 J. Paul Guiliani and Dwight G Cheap Jerseys from china.

[csrgood]

Common Impact Connections: Skills-Based Volunteering in Times of Crisis

Common Impact Connections Newsletter

As news and anxieties surrounding COVID-19 spreads rapidly, Common Impact is working closely with our partners to ensure that their skilled volunteering efforts can continue while keeping volunteers safe.

The talents and expertise of the private sector are an enormous untapped resource in preparing our communities for natural and man-made disasters of all kinds, whether they be hurricanes, earthquakes, mass shootings or global pandemics like coronavirus. In times of crisis, it's even more important to invest in social sector organizations, which see demand for their services increase while many of the resources they depend on to deliver those services are at risk.

Last fall, we released Disaster Response - From Relief to Resiliency, an approach to cross-sector partnerships for disaster and crisis management. Now, with coronavirus shutting down schools, slowing business and disrupting travel, we want to encourage companies and volunteers to consider continuing their service efforts virtually. Skilled volunteering and pro bono — even event-based days of service — can easily be done from the safety of your home or office.

In a situation like this where physical threat and economic fall-out may go hand in hand, organizations can leverage skills-based volunteering and the continuity planning expertise of the private sector to develop resilient frameworks for internal and external crisis communications, operating with reduced or remote staff and the implications of domestic and international travel slowdowns.

If your nonprofit or business is interested in learning more about leveraging skills-based volunteering to fortify your community against coronavirus and other crises, email info@commonimpact.org.

New Pro Bono Perspectives Podcast Episodes

Looking for some social impact inspiration? We've got you covered! Tune in to hear insights from Net Impact's Cecily Joseph on embracing DEI in all industries, PwC's Jeff Senne on creating more equitable workplaces and communities and WFUV's Rita Houston on incorporating philanthropy into your job, no matter where you work!

New Arrivals

Tim Parsons, Chief Brand Officer: Common Impact's first Chief Brand Officer, Tim will expand the conversation on the vital role skills-based volunteerism plays in nonprofit capacity building and addressing inequality. He will lead Common Impact's branding and marketing activities with a focus on storytelling, innovation and collaboration. Get to know Tim!

Board of Directors: Please join us in welcoming our newest board members! These accomplished social sector executives were selected for their diverse professional backgrounds, innovative ideas and firm belief in the power of skills-based volunteerism to drive lasting social change. As we continue to grow, we’re excited to bring on thoughtful, driven leaders from across sectors who can help us navigate that growth sustainably, increase our impact and reimagine what it means to address inequality through service.

Janelle Woods-McNish, Harvard Pilgrim Health Care Foundation

Rachel Hutchisson, Blackbaud

Anne Ames, Fidelity Investments

Lauren Banks, Creative Marketing Resources

In Memoriam - Pamela Paton

Late last year, Common Impact’s long time board member, Pamela Paton, passed away unexpectedly. She was a champion of women’s rights and ensured that gender equity was integrated into Common Impact’s mission and growth strategy. This month, we honor her legacy by sharing her piece on women's leadership, "A Leadership Perspective from the Financial Services Sector."

Virtual Skilled Volunteer Opportunity

Succession Planning Coach: The Boys & Girls Clubs of Greater Tarrant County is seeking to proactively firm up its succession strategy to increase long-term sustainability. The organization's CEO requires the external support of a skilled volunteer to incorporate her role into existing planning and define and actionable succession strategy for the full leadership team. This remote or in-person opportunity is open to private or social sector professionals with past experience in nonprofit management and governance, succession planning, talent development, diversity, equity and inclusion, and coaching and mentoring. Time commitment flexible. Read more about the opportunity and reach out to mweinstein@commonimpact.org if you're interested!

Common Impact in the News

Candid – “How to Maximize Your Impact with Skills-Based Volunteering”: Common Impact Field Building Manager Aruni Ranaweera shares insights on how to successfully build nonprofit capacity and develop lasting cross-sector relationships with Capacity Commons, our one-stop shop for skills-based volunteering.

Upcoming Events

Webinar – Leverage Skills-Based Volunteerism to Access Corporate Talent and Build Capacity (March 26): Nonprofit professionals can join this special webinar training with Common Impact and Candid to learn the basics of skills-based volunteering and how to leverage it to build lasting corporate partnerships that enable organizations to transform their operations and better serve their constituents. Plus, receive an introduction to Capacity Commons, Common Impact's one-stop shop for skills-based volunteering. Sign up by 3/18 to receive the early bird rate!

Check out our full newsletter to stay up to date with the latest and greatest at Common Impact!

source: https://www.csrwire.com/press_releases/44003-Common-Impact-Connections-Skills-Based-Volunteering-in-Times-of-Crisis?tracking_source=rss

[dgiacomo]

@sparkykitsune

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[kacydeneen]

Bill Buckner, Forever Known for October Error, Dies at 69

Bill Buckner was an All-Star and batting champion, a gritty gamer who was welcome on any team.

A reliable fielder, too.

Fiat Chrysler Proposes Merger With French Carmaker Renault

But a little grounder forever changed his legacy.

Buckner, who made one of the biggest blunders in baseball history when he let Mookie Wilson's trickler roll through his legs in the 1986 World Series, died Monday. He was 69.

Israeli President Shocked by German Skullcap Warning

"He deserved better," former Dodgers teammate Bobby Valentine tweeted .

Buckner died after a long battle with Lewy body dementia, his family said in a statement. The disease causes Alzheimer's-like symptoms along with movement and other problems.

Another Horse Dies at Santa Anita, 26th Since December

Buckner made his major league debut as a teenager, played until he was 40 and amassed 2,715 hits in between. Yet for all he accomplished, it was his October error at first base that fans always remembered.

Trying for their first crown since 1918, the Boston Red Sox led the New York Mets 5-3 going into the bottom of the 10th inning in Game 6 at Shea Stadium. The Mets tied it with two outs, then Wilson hit a roller up the first base line that got past a gimpy Buckner, a misplay that let Ray Knight rush home from second base with the winning run.

The Red Sox lost 8-5 in Game 7, and their World Series drought continued until they won the championship in 2004.

In the aftermath of Boston's near-miss, Buckner became a target of fans in New England and beyond, his mistake shown over and over on highlight reels.

"You can look at that Series and point fingers in a whole bunch of different directions," Buckner said a decade ago. "We did the best we could to win there and it just didn't happen and I didn't feel like I deserved" so much blame.

A curious thing happened over time, too: He became pals with Wilson.

"I was saddened to hear about Bill's death," Wilson said in a statement. "We had developed a friendship that lasted well over 30 years. I felt badly for some of the things he went through. Bill was a great, great baseball player whose legacy should not be defined by one play."

But sure enough, several years ago when he made a guest appearance on the TV show "Curb Your Enthusiasm," the main gag involved star Larry David tossing a ball autographed by Wilson toward Buckner, who lets it get past him and out the window.

A footnote: While Buckner was long criticized for the error, many in baseball contend that even if the ball had been handled cleanly, the speedy Wilson would have beaten it anyway.

At Fenway Park on Monday, video clips of Buckner's 22-year career were shown on the scoreboard before the Red Sox hosted Cleveland. His picture was posted and there was a moment of silence, followed by applause from the crowd.

"I think it was a travesty the way he was last remembered," said 67-year-old Red Sox fan Blaine Macinnis from Wilmington, Massachusetts, in a box seat on the first base side. "It was a great injustice of how he ended it with that last play. It's a shame. That's how life is."

"Like when your own father dies, you don't want to remember all the bad things," he said.

Wearing a Red Sox T-shirt, 76-year-old Jim McDonnell from Littleton agreed.

"I think it's a shame how he was treated," he said.

Buckner was released by the Red Sox in the summer of 1987 and went on to play for the Angels and Royals. He returned to Boston for his final season in 1990, playing 22 games.

In 2008, Buckner finally accepted an invitation to throw out the first ball for the home opener at Fenway Park as the Red Sox celebrated winning another title.

Buckner drew loud cheers as he walked from the Green Monster in left field to the mound, and made his ceremonial toss to former teammate Dwight Evans.

Buckner said the moment was "probably about as emotional as it could get."

"I really had to forgive," he said later that day, "not the fans of Boston per se, but I would have to say, in my heart, I had to forgive the media for what they put me and my family through. So I've done that. I'm over that. And I'm just happy that I just try to think of the positive. The happy things."

Cleveland manager Terry Francona was the Red Sox skipper that afternoon.

"I thought it was kind of a healing moment, it seemed, for a lot of people and for him, I hope," Francona said before Monday's game. "You have to be up here to understand how people take things that happen. I thought that was a really cool moment."

That moment was played on the videoboard during the fifth inning, drawing cheers.

In a statement, Red Sox chairman Tom Werner praised "Billy Buck," saying he "personified toughness and grit, and his determination to play through pain defines him far more than any single play ever could."

Tweeted former Boston teammate Wade Boggs: "OMG such a sad day can't put it in perspective with the only reason why we made it to the World Series in 86."

Buckner lived in Boise, Idaho, after he finished playing. He was the hitting coach for the Chicago Cubs' minor league affiliate in Boise in 2012-13 and owned three car dealerships and several commercial properties in Idaho.

Cubs chairman Tom Ricketts called Buckner a "great ballplayer and beloved member of the Cubs family." Cubs Hall of Famer Ferguson Jenkins praised Buckner for helping his charity foundation.

Hall of Fame manager Tom Lasorda of the Dodgers called Buckner "one of the best competitors I have ever seen."

Buckner made his big league debut with the Dodgers at 19 in 1969 and became a batting champ with the Cubs. He had a career .289 average and totaled over 100 RBIs in three seasons, twice with Boston. Buckner finished with 174 home runs and 1,208 RBIs and he was a fast outfielder, once stealing 31 bases.

An old-school player with a mustache, Buckner was eager to swing — he had 9,397 career at-bats and never struck out 40 times in a season and never walked more than 40 times in a year.

He is survived by his wife, Jodi, two daughters and one son.

AP freelance writer Ken Powtak contributed to this report.

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