#Deprivation of civil rights

[fxmmeangel]

wisconsin i hate you

[reasoningdaily]

Willie & West - Attica Massacre (Soul) (Funk) (1972)

REVOLUTIONARY MUSIC

take a moment for a sound break with history. this tune was not widely distributed outside the NY, because the rockerfeller org wanted to keep the truth quiet, but we know.

Listen to the Reality about Attica and the Massacre committed 9/9/71

[that-neurodivergent-gay]

(not so) friendly reminder that a non-exaustive list of war crimes that isreal has committed is:

Wilful killing

Torture or inhumane treatment, including biological experiments

Wilfully causing great suffering, or serious injury to body or health

Extensive destruction and appropriation of property, not justified by military necessity and carried out unlawfully and wantonly

Intentionally directing attacks against the civilian population as such or against individual civilians not taking part in direct hostilities

Intentionally directing attacks against civilian objects which are non-military

Intentionally directing attacks against humanitarian assistance

Intentionally launching an attack knowing that it will cause loss of life, injury or harm to civilians or civil properties

Intentionally launching an attack knowing it will cause significant damage to the natural environment without necessity

Attacking or bombarding, by whatever means, towns, villages, dwellings or buildings which are undefended and which are not military objectives

Intentionally directing attacks against buildings dedicated to religion, education, art, science, charitable purposes, historic monuments, hospitals, and places where the wounded are collected, assuming they are not military objectives

Employing asphyxiating, poisonous, or other gasses, and all analogous liquids, materials or devices

Employing weapons, projectiles, and material and methods or warfare which are of a nature to cause superfluous injury or unnecessary suffering

Intentionally directing attacks against buildings, material, medical units and transport and personnel

Intentionally using starvation of civilians as a method of warfare by depriving them of objects indispensable to their survival

If you still think this is isreal defending itself, you're ignoring the signs. This is a genocide. These are war crimes. More than 25,000 civilians have been murdered. This is not okay.

Edit:

For all the people asking me for a source, here is a list:

https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/12/18/israel-starvation-used-weapon-war-gaza

Any of Bisan's videos/writings. There are so many people on the ground in Gaza who are documenting this. Stay safe and stay educated

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech company bribed jails to ban in-person visits

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Beware of geeks bearing gifts. When prison-tech companies started offering "free" tablets to America's vast army of prisoners, it set off alarm-bells for prison reform advocates – but not for the law-enforcement agencies that manage the great American carceral enterprise.

The pitch from these prison-tech companies was that they could cut the costs of locking people up while making jails and prisons safer. Hell, they'd even make life better for prisoners. And they'd do it for free!

These prison tablets would give every prisoner their own phone and their own video-conferencing terminal. They'd supply email, of course, and all the world's books, music, movies and games. Prisoners could maintain connections with the outside world, from family to continuing education. Sounds too good to be true, huh?

Here's the catch: all of these services are blisteringly expensive. Prisoners are accustomed to being gouged on phone calls – for years, prisons have done deals with private telcos that charge a fortune for prisoners' calls and split the take with prison administrators – but even by those standards, the calls you make on a tablet are still a ripoff.

Sure, there are some prisoners for whom money is no object – wealthy people who screwed up so bad they can't get bail and are stewing in a county lockup, along with the odd rich murderer or scammer serving a long bid. But most prisoners are poor. They start poor – the cops are more likely to arrest poor people than rich people, even for the same crime, and the poorer you are, the more likely you are to get convicted or be suckered into a plea bargain with a long sentence. State legislatures are easy to whip up into a froth about minimum sentences for shoplifters who steal $7 deodorant sticks, but they are wildly indifferent to the store owner's rampant wage-theft. Wage theft is by far the most costly form of property crime in America and it is almost entirely ignored:

https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jun/15/wage-theft-us-workers-employees

So America's prisons are heaving with its poorest citizens, and they're certainly not getting any richer while they're inside. While many prisoners hold jobs – prisoners produce $2b/year in goods and $9b/year in services – the average prison wage is $0.52/hour:

https://www.dollarsandsense.org/archives/2024/0324bowman.html

(In six states, prisoners get nothing; North Carolina law bans paying prisoners more than $1/day, the 13th Amendment to the US Constitution explicitly permits slavery – forced labor without pay – for prisoners.)

Likewise, prisoners' families are poor. They start poor – being poor is a strong correlate of being an American prisoner – and then one of their breadwinners is put behind bars, taking their income with them. The family savings go to paying a lawyer.

Prison-tech is a bet that these poor people, locked up and paid $1/day or less; or their families, deprived of an earner and in debt to a lawyer; will somehow come up with cash to pay $13 for a 20-minute phone call, $3 for an MP3, or double the Kindle price for an ebook.

How do you convince a prisoner earning $0.52/hour to spend $13 on a phone-call?

Well, for Securus and Viapath (AKA Global Tellink) – a pair of private equity backed prison monopolists who have swallowed nearly all their competitors – the answer was simple: they bribed prison officials to get rid of the prison phones.

Not just the phones, either: a pair of Michigan suits brought by the Civil Rights Corps accuse sheriffs and the state Department of Corrections of ending in-person visits in exchange for kickbacks from the money that prisoners' families would pay once the only way to reach their loved ones was over the "free" tablets:

https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2024/03/jails-banned-family-visits-to-make-more-money-on-video-calls-lawsuits-claim/

These two cases are just the tip of the iceberg; Civil Rights Corps says there are hundreds of jails and prisons where Securus and Viapath have struck similar corrupt bargains:

https://civilrightscorps.org/case/port-huron-michigan-right2hug/

And it's not just visits and calls. Prison-tech companies have convinced jails and prisons to eliminate mail and parcels. Letters to prisoners are scanned and delivered their tablets, at a price. Prisoners – and their loved ones – have to buy virtual "postage stamps" and pay one stamp per "page" of email. Scanned letters (say, hand-drawn birthday cards from your kids) cost several stamps:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Prisons and jails have also been convinced to eliminate their libraries and continuing education programs, and to get rid of TVs and recreational equipment. That way, prisoners will pay vastly inflated prices for streaming videos and DRM-locked music.

The icing on the cake? If the prison changes providers, all that data is wiped out – a prisoner serving decades of time will lose their music library, their kids' letters, the books they love. They can get some of that back – by working for $1/day – but the personal stuff? It's just gone.

Readers of my novels know all this. A prison-tech scam just like the one described in the Civil Rights Corps suits is at the center of my latest novel The Bezzle:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

Prison-tech has haunted me for years. At first, it was just the normal horror anyone with a shred of empathy would feel for prisoners and their families, captive customers for sadistic "businesses" that have figured out how to get the poorest, most desperate people in the country to make them billions. In the novel, I call prison-tech "a machine":

a million-­armed robot whose every limb was tipped with a needle that sank itself into a different place on prisoners and their families and drew out a few more cc’s of blood.

But over time, that furious empathy gave way to dread. Prisoners are at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve. They endure the technological torments that haven't yet been sanded down on their bodies, normalized enough to impose them on people with a little more privilege and agency. I'm a long way up the curve from prisoners, but while the shitty technology curve may grind slow, it grinds fine:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

The future isn't here, it's just not evenly distributed. Prisoners are the ultimate early adopters of the technology that the richest, most powerful, most sadistic people in the country's corporate board-rooms would like to force us all to use.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/02/captive-customers/#guillotine-watch

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[ms-demeanor]

So I've been seeing some discourse around the No Fly List leak that looks a bit like "hey everybody, we can't make jokes about this, the list is racist and there are children on the list" or "if you're talking about identity categories instead of the list you're missing the point" and I think that we CAN make jokes about a trans bi lesbian catgirl owning the US government while also appreciating the gravity of the No Fly List but what I think is troubling to me is the way that these discourse posts are treating the blatant racism and inherently fascist nature of the No Fly List as news.

It is news that Maia Arson Crimew was able to download a copy of the No Fly List from an unsecured public server.

It is not news that there are 1.5 million people on that list, many of whom do not belong on it for any number of reasons, and it is not news that there are children on that list, and it is not news that the list is a tool used to deprive people of their civil liberties. That's why the list exists.

I'm aware that I'm getting older. I'm aware that there are entire adults of legal drinking age who were born after 9/11. I'm aware that it's not super common to follow up on foreign policy or national security debacles from when you were in kindergarten, but there are people who have been mad about this shit for twenty years and if you're just now hearing about how bad the list is for the first time, hell, maybe that's on us and we haven't been yelling enough (though when I'm yelling about how the TSA is security theater meant to make us accept encroachments on our rights, this is at least a part of what I'm yelling about).

The No Fly List is a list of individuals maintained by the TSA who are deemed a threat to security for some reason or another.

The TSA maintains the list, though they are given information for the list from the FBI, Terrorism Screening Center, and other entities. If you'd like to click this document, you can find 250 pages of FOIA'd documents about the No Fly List pre 2006. Much of this document is members of the FBI trying to justify why they need a copy of the list and lamenting that airlines have a copy of the list and they don't. This is very funny.

There have been issues with mis-identifications and false positives for the list for as long as the list has existed. You can click here to read through an infuriating 200 pages about a Pfizer employee who was stopped at least a dozen times at airports and who retained a law firm to hound the TSA/CBP/ICE clusterfuck of interagency buck-passing for nine months to try to get the problem resolved. One of the three documents at this link includes a complaint from the president of the Terrorist Screening Center lamenting the way that the TSA would refer obvious non-matches to be detained, including infants and the elderly.

At this point, the FBI/TSA/TSC/ICE/CBP claimed list was still relatively small, in the low thousands at most.

However a 2009 cost-benefit report by the Defense Technical Information Center found that in 2004-2005 30,000 people contacted the TSA to have their names removed from the list; 30k false positives suggests a list somewhat longer than a thousand names.

As long as the No Fly List has existed, criteria for being placed on the list has been subjective and selectively enforced.

As the Crimew leak shows, there isn't a tremendous amount of biographical data, but there are hundreds of thousands of names and it is enforced at the discretion of the TSA in each individual airport in the US, which is how you end up with duplicates and toddlers and 100-year-old men on what is functionally a filter to keep Muslim people out of the US.

The list has expanded every year that it has existed, and has been defended by republicans and democrats alike since it became one of the tools in our arsenal to fight "the war on terror"

And for just about that long, people have been talking about how it is unconstitutional, denies civil liberties, and also just doesn't really work.

It has never been transparent, it has always been a tool of surveillance, exclusion, and control:

And people have been documenting, protesting, and suing over the islamophobic nature of the list - and the security state's weaponization of the list as a threat - for two decades at this point because in the earliest days of the No Fly List it was OPENLY ACKNOWLEDGED that it was based on racial profiling and people made (shitty, cruel) legal arguments for why it should be:

THIS isn't funny. These are not the things that people are joking about when they choose to stay silly :3 in this conversation.

But these things also aren't news. Nearly everything I screencapped here was listed as a source on Wikipedia, and what wasn't was available as simple searches on Archive.Org or easily looked up on news websites.

All you have to do is just *look* at the sources on Wikipedia to see that people actually have been talking about it for quite a long time, very publicly, and that there has been a lot of public outcry about the list as it balloons and punishes innocent people with false positives:

And when you've been looking at stories like these for twenty fucking years it feels wonderful to say "holy fucking bingle" and celebrate that for once someone did something VERY COOL in order to shine a light on this massive (and apparently underappreciated problem).

[cheygil06]

[railingsofsorrow]

we should just kiss, like real people do

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: in which there was only one bed. . . pairing(s): emily prentiss x f!bau!reader w.c: 1.6K warnings/content: rivals to lovers; mostly fluff; understanding feelings; angst (if you notice); language; suggestive content near the end and cursing (making out) so I'm classifying this 15+ 

A/N: can you believe I have never written for the only one-bed trope? crazy. but anyway, this is my entry for @reiderwriter writing challenge "daydreams and shooting stars" (love this theme btw), and congrats on the 5k followers!! I chose the prompts "only one bed" and "enemies to lovers" with emily prentiss.

navi

masterpost 

cm masterlist 

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"Oh, you gotta be kidding me."

You frown, feet halting at the entrance of the room because your roommate can't move so you can enter and finally get some rest. You hated Derek. He usually pairs up with you whenever you need to share a room during a case but today Penelope has come along and you already knew you had lost your usual roommate for the night. You don't blame him, really. Or Penelope, they just have their... thing. 

But you do blame him for leaving you with the personification of annoyance: Emily Prentiss.

It's not that you hate her, you just don't really get along and you don't have to. You have to be coworkers and civil towards each other, which you do. But sleeping in the same room for an entire night? - Maybe more, because this case is proving to be very difficult to be wrapped up in just one day - That you’re not sure you can do without jumping out of a freaking window.

"Prentiss." You hiss, behind her in the hallway. "Can you move? I need a shower."

Emily steps away and when you enter, you understand why she had frozen by the door. You imagined it was a spider or any kind of bug but that's worse. Way worse. 

"You have to be kidding me. There's only one bed?"

Emily throws her go-bag on top of the mattress, already moving around the room as if she has decided her fate. 

"What are you doing?" You ask, eyes narrowed as she takes some clothes off her bag.

"Taking a shower?"

"No, you're not. I'm going first."

Emily shrugs, throwing a towel on her shoulder. "You're taking too long." 

"You're not taking the bed."

She offers you a menacing smile. "Yes, I am. I touched it first."

Your eyes widen in disbelief and you're one step away from throwing her out the window. "You touched it f- What are you, five?"

"The floor looks pretty comfortable."

Letting out a scoff you place your own go-bag on top of the bed. 

"Then you sleep on it."

Emily shots her a look and you hold her gaze in defiance. She looks away first and your lips stretch into a satisfied smile as she walks inside the bathroom. You contemplate going downstairs to ask for another room available, but you're curious to what her next step will be. 

Let's see who's sleeping on the floor tonight. I know it won't be me.

Your logic proves to be flawed when Emily has her limbs splattered out on the middle of the mattress, fingers typing away something on her phone distractedly. Your go-bag is on the floor beside hers and you raise a single brow in her direction, even if you're not sure she's aware you left the bathroom yet. 

"Prentiss."

She says your name in a hum, attention locked on her phone. 

You throw your wet towel in her direction, it lands right in her face. A laugh escapes you as she yelps, sitting up in surprise and yanking the wet towel from her face. 

Her dark eyes send you a glare that you're not affected by in the slightest. Except for the fact that she looks good with an annoyed face on- What? 

Oh, your brain is most definitely sleep deprived.

"Bed is mine. Move." You order, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing again as she throws your towel back at you. 

"Nope." Emily lays back down, earning a groan from you and you actually consider sleeping on the floor so you can pull her feet at night so hard that she falls out of bed. Then, she says something that has you rolling your eyes. "There's plenty of space here though."

"Great, more for me."

"I am not sleeping on the floor," Emily repeats, calmly, supporting herself on her elbows to have a better look at you. "So it's your call."

“You serious?” There's annoyance in your tone and a little bit of exhaustion. You're not in the mood to play games, you'd definitely entertain her if you weren't so tired. “Fine. You win.” Her brows shot up to her hairline. “Well? Scoot over.”

Her eyes are scrutinizing you and you give her a glare as you adjust on the bed, pulling the blanket over your legs. 

“Lost something?”

She shrugs. “Just thought you'd be one of those who can't bear the idea of sleeping in the same bed with someone else.” 

Your forehead creases as you lay down, lifting the blanket as you do it. “Why?”

“I don't know.” She shrugs again, but now you see a little smile on her lips. You feel yourself trying to stop your own lips from imitating hers. “You just give me the vibes.”

“The vibes?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Something about the way she keeps analysing you when you look away makes you feel self-conscious. 

“Do you hate me?” 

From how fast you turn your neck, you feel it snap as you twist, causing you to wince and sit down. 

“What? No!”

She smiles a little but it's contained. 

"Could have fooled me."

"Prentiss." You say with a look. "I don't hate you."

"Right," she hums, resting back down on the pillow, her dark strands spreading out around her head. "You just don't particularly like me?"

A sigh escapes your lips and you shift on your side of the bed. Why is she bringing this up now? Couldn't it be some other moment where the two of you aren't sharing a bed, extremely close to each other?

"You don't particularly like me either," you shot back, shrugging, pretending to be unbothered.

"That's not true." She says it fast, not thinking twice, a tinge of indignation in her tone that gets you almost laughing. "What? I don't!"

"Could have fooled me."

Emily's eyes narrow at you which earns you a little satisfaction at using her words against hers. When you turn to offer her a joke about how you've been treating each other over the past years you catch her staring at you, that same stare from before. You have no ideia what it means.

"What?" You ask in a whisper to not disturb the silence that has installed into the room. It is almost... peaceful. Which is an adjective that does not match when it's you and Emily in the same room.

“You're beautiful. Kind of.” 

And now you're sure you're leep deprived because why on earth would Emily Prentiss ever call you beautiful? She finds you annoying and boring and—

“You okay?” You're surprise to notice you're the one asking that. 

Emily lets out a scoff. “Why wouldn't I be?”

“You just called me beautiful and you hate me.”

“I do not hate you. You hate me.”

You nudge her with a playful shove, she's near the edge of the bed so the way your shove causes her body to waver, almost making her fall off the bed gets your eyes widening before you grip her elbow to pull her back. Emily ends up colliding with you with a yelp. Then, the most surprising — but weirdly endearing? — thing happens: she starts laughing. 

And her head falls on your shoulder while you're frozen trying not to move. You don't know why but your brain shortcuts at your proximity and the way the sound of her laughter enters your head like an enchanted melody.

Emily leans back slightly, her breath tickling your cheek as she speaks. Her tone sounds shaky but you can't be sure, you're trying too hard not to stare at her lips. “If you drop me off the bed,” she begins. “I'll take you with me.” 

Now she's the one staring down at your lips and you swallow hard nervously. 

“Then we'll both... uh.” Words. Use your words, do you know how to speak or the fact that a beautiful woman is staring at your lips makes it hard? “... we'll both fall off the bed. But you'll still fall first because... I'll be pushing you?” You don't why it gets out as a question. 

Emily's gaze locks into yours and your body shivers from head to toe.

“What would you hate me more if I kissed you right now?”

“Oh, for fuck's sake just do it.” 

That's the cue for her to press her lips against yours. Soft, gentle and warm. Your hands have a mind of her own as one of them grips the back of her neck to deepen the kiss, the result of years of yearning for a coworker you had convinced yourself hated you and that you hated too.

“I've wanted...” Emily drawls out, kissing down your jaw. “...to do that...” back to your lips “... for so long.” 

You hum into her mouth, smiling as she loops a hand around your waist. 

“I think we— we may have had a little bit of... miscommunication.”

She leans back to give you a look and you take advantage of the quick break to stare at her swollen lips. Courtesy of you. 

“You think?” Emily tease, thump running across your lower lip. “Will you stop calling me Prentiss now?”

“Isn’t that your name?” You chuckle at her scowl. 

It's safe to say she shuts you up with a kiss. 

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taglist: @ninkieminjaj

[girlfromthecrypt]

Such Happy Campers is an interactive horror/romance novel made in Choicescript.

DEMO / COG FORUM POST

status: demo consists of five chapters + prologue, currently at 147.192 words, last updated on July 15th.

You are an employee of the Cloverleaf program. Your job is to organize and oversee their seasonal vacation for kids from low-income backgrounds and troubled homes. This summer, said vacation will be hosted at the rustic Camp Solace, a cabin campsite situated right next to the picturesque Lake Solace and flanked by acres of woodland.

Camp Solace is idyllic, calm and far removed from the bustle of civilization. 

V̵̲̂e̶̝͆ŕ̸͍y̷͎̏ ̷͚̎f̵͈̀ā̸̦r̵̀͜ ̸͓͘r̴̜̂e̴͉̕m̵̺̎o̷̢̓v̶̒͜è̴̘d̴̳̐ ̴̀͜i̵̡͊ñ̷̘d̸̼̀e̷̪̽ȇ̵̯d̴̜͒.̷̰̚

It'd take you quite a while to reach the nearest town in case of an emergency…

Ý̷̭ö̸͎́u̷̘͗'̴̘͘d̸̛̰ ̶̢̐ḇ̸̌ẻ̸̦t̴̝̅t̷͚̒e̷͓͑r̸͔̿ ̷̱̆m̸̜̔a̸̳̍k̵̰̍ě̸̖ ̸̦̚s̷̛̺ṵ̴̔r̵̘̅e̸̝̽ ̸͈̑n̴̡̛o̶̬͑t̶̺̊h̸͖̋i̵͎̽ṅ̵̜g̸̗̽ ̴̹̿ḧ̵̘́ā̷̦p̸̖̎p̵̻̑e̴̗͌n̵̡̒s̶̜̈.̶̥͂

But you're not alone in this! Working alongside you are Basil Laurier, the free-spirited scion of the wealthiest local family, Anita Merrick, the smart but skittish university student intern, and the Malak siblings, both skilled and experienced teachers. 

Now go take care of those happy little campers.

Customize your MC’s name, appearance, outfit and apartment!

Be a good camp counselor and protect the kids in your care!

Romance a charismatic heir, a chronically sleep-deprived psychology student, a temperamental musician or a reserved martial arts instructor!

Get to know your team and form lasting friendships!

Uncover the lakes long-forgotten secrets and save Camp Solace from the horrors that are slowly closing in on you.

TW: mentions of bullying, toxic past relationships, troubled childhoods, mental illness. Non-graphic.

[nelkcats]

Death sentence

We are sorry Phantom, but we need to see by yourselves if you are a threat or not, we will be visiting you tomorrow at 4:40 pm

-Justice League

Danny was unsure about his feelings, apparently the government contacted the JL to eliminate him because he was "dangerous", but Martian Manhunter, knowing the government was not always the best, convinced them, so the League leave a message to Vlad instead.

Vlad didn't want to fight with him, he published the note in Amity newspaper. Now, that was kinda...bad, not for him, but for the rest of Amity Park. It was like being sentenced to death.

While Danny freaked out the entire city was having a meeting, they didn't want the Justice League there, not near Phantom or Fenton, he was a kid, the league have a history ignoring calls and kidnapping child heroes to be part of their "society", and train them "properly". Their kid was already death, they were not going to take risks.

Amity Parkers also know they will start to choose between him as they choose between their "personas", like Phantom and Fenton were different, and yeah, the inhabitants of Amity Park can't judge, it take a while to figure out he was the same but by that point he already saved their lifes and they were already attached to him.

If the League finds out the kid was a halfa they will choose a favorites; "Phantom" being better fighter than "the civil identity Fenton", "Fenton" being intelligent "when he is not at hero work", and to be honest they understand, when a person acts different is normal to separate between the two personalities.

They will obligate him to separate himself, like the "hero" and the "civilian" needed to act different or some stupid thing like that.

But Fenton Phantom was not a personality to separate, they were the same and the small city remembered all the fights, all the favoritism, remembered when Fenton was left out because of his better "half", remembered when they needed to buy the kid an apartment far from his parents cause it taked a while for them to separate "His cute guy Dann-o" and " The Ghost scum"

And the city remembered the sobs, the adults remember leaning out their window at night and hearing the uncontrollable wailing of the ghost, allowing himself to be the scared teenager he always was.

That day, they made a promise, to accept him, all of him, he never needed to be separated in two again, he was not destined to, he was the representation of equilibrium between life and death for god sake. The kid already hidden from them for two years, two years of scars and fighting alone, and they will never repeat that error.

The Justice League have no right to break their promise. And they will never let them ruin another kid, not an Amity Parker.

So, what happened next was just natural; the next day Mr. Lancer called Sam and Tucker, told them to guide Danny to the Ghost Zone for a while, maybe entertain him with his ghost friends, they accepted.

"Team Phantom" was still active (with Dani and Val help) but they had more support than ever, and they trusted their city, all basically united by the guy who literally spends his after life protecting them.

The thing is, it was almost stupid what happened in the past, Danny was sleep deprived, his fight with Pariah ended well but the suit suck too much energy for him, that connected with his lack of sleep ended in a transformation In the middle of town, where everyone could see it.

It took a while to accept the reality, that a boy had fought with the king of the dead for a city that hated him. They even pretended to have no idea about the revelation, acting like they didn't know for another couple of weeks; Although the news spread and gossip was not lacking.

Sam and Tucker expected the other shoe to drop, but they ended surprised when the city called a reunion (since when the totally of the city reunited?), they acted like Danny bodyguards, but what they didn't expected was the Fentons unable to look at them and leave the room.

The people who stayed offered an apology (but Val wanted an explanation) and an apartment (¿the city collected money to give him an apartment far from his home? Danny wasn't sure if he was happy or heartbroken)

When the Justice League arrived the Red Huntress was waiting for them, her weapon pointing the "heroes" who frowned at the sight of the "hero" holding wepons.

"Sorry, ¿is Phantom haunt here?" Martian Manhunter asked cordially, the girl nodded "¿can we talk with him?"

"No"

"¿Why not?¿is he dangerous?¿is he hiding from us? It's okay, we can capture him if that's the case" Flash assured, hoping that would take away the tense atmosphere, the meta ghost was probably the villain of the city or something, so that made the red suit girl the hero.

"We can also give you proper training so you can stop using wepons" Wonder Woman also offered.

"First of all, that's none of your business, you don't go to Star City and ask Green arrow to stop using arrows cause you don't like them, I don't care about your training" the girl answers, obviously annoyed "second, we don't want you here, not near him"

The Martian frowned "Sorry ¿we?"

"We" the girl pointed at the city, all the city was watching them, but contrary to normal meetings they were watching them with resentment.

"Eh, ¿why? Maybe this is all a misunderstanding..." Superman was trying not to look at the people, even the kids on the street seemed to stop what they were doing just to look at them with pure hate in their eyes "can we see the major?".

"I'm here" Vlad appeared behind the girl and greeted them "I see you already meet the Red Huntress"

"Yes, ¿Do you know where Phantom is? We send a note yesterday" Batman asked, the reason of the meeting was not there after all.

"Yes, I remember, the Death Sentence you left on my door cause of the U.S government ¿right?"

"¿Death sentence? That's not-"

"Oh, but it is, you left your precious note in my office, overnight, asking us to hand you over to our local hero for you to search and see if he's a threat, ¿am I wrong?" Vlad was having fun teasing these heroes.

"Sir, we need you to understand, according to the U.S government Phantom is a dangerous individual, maybe he can even destroy your city" Superman tried

"According to the U.S government we don't exist, ¿or did you forget that information on purpose?" the huntress mocked

"I remember, but it was for your safety, the government was trying to contain the threat-"

"The Goverment this, the government that, you see superheroes, we are not ruled by the government anymore, this is a free city, since we were contained here, we produce everything on your own, food, energy, we owe nothing to the government and much less to you"

"¡But we can help you! We can get ride of your meta infestation and-" Flash was trying to mediate

"¿Meta infestation? ¿That's what they told you?, oh poor heroes, getting here with the grown information" the major laughed "Look, I will make myself clear, we have a ghost infestation, Amity Park is now a death city and we prefer it this way"

"And what about Phantom?" Martian Manhunter asked worried.

Vlad sighed "You can visit him, he likes space, however" he pointed at the other heroes "they can't, we don't need the Goverment help, we don't need your help, we are alive because of that boy and we don't want YOUR team near him, Phantom is an Amity Parker and it will stay that way" the major walked away.

"Look, ¿Martian Manhunter? You are a good guy I get it, but we don't want all of you here, the only hero we want is Phantom and we don't need your ideologies or training near him, he is OURS, so please, get out of the city while we are still being nice" Red Hunter stated.

"¿What if you need help?" Batman asked

"We needed help two years ago, the boy you want to take saved us when you decided not to take our pleas, and as such, we won't take yours" the girl said "Amity Park can take care of it's own as always, go save a city that need you"

And with that said she flew away, leaving them at the entrance of the city, the angry shouts and mutters of the citizens saying that they wanted them away in the background.

[junkdrawerfics]

Insomnia

Jasper Hale X Reader

Summary: There's one thing the Cullens don't know about you and you try with every fiber of your being to make sure things stay that way, especially with your boyfriend, Jasper. His gift makes it a little hard though, making you stretch to unhealthy limits.

Word Count: 2677

Warnings: Insomnia, the effects of sleep deprivation, no beta

---

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you lean against the lockers, welcoming the cold bite of the metal against your skin. Why did you come to school today? Every second that goes by, you feel like you’re walking deeper and deeper into a fog only surrounding you. It makes it hard to think, hard to process anything.

“Darlin’?”

You jump like a cat finding a cucumber when a deep voice breaks through your fog. As quick as you’ve moved in days, you spin around to find a familiar blond standing right behind you. Jasper. Out of habit, a smile slips onto your lips.

“Morning Jazz,” you murmur and wrap your arms around his waist.

Jasper doesn’t reply, just gently pulls you back so he can look at your face, his brow furrowed. You keep the smile up and try your hardest to push your emotions away, just focusing on how happy it makes you to see him. You don’t want him to worry. It feels like that’s all you do, make him worry, which honestly just makes you feel worse, so hopefully today you can play off the sluggishness clinging to you. It would be so much easier if he didn’t have his gift.

“Everything alright, darlin’?”

He might have caught on before you could think of hiding it, though. Stubbornly, you press on, giving him a nod and stretching up onto your toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek.

“Everything perfect now that you’re here,” you throw out the cheesy line, which seems to be enough to distract him.

Jasper shakes his head, but an amused smirk pulls at the corner of his lips.

“So, are you going to walk me to class, cowboy?” You ask, closing your locker after you grab the books you need.

“It’d be my pleasure, ma’am.”

Your heart melts at his words, and your smile shifts into a soft grin as the blond loops your arm through his and takes your books. Such a gentleman. And lucky for you, all his previous concerns have disappeared. Hopefully you can keep it that way for the rest of the day.

It’s a mostly well-hidden secret you keep from the vampire coven. Ironically, Bella is the only one who knows about it, your insomnia. On a normal day, you can function well enough and get through school with little issue, but recently it’s been worse. Last night was particularly bad, and by that you mean you didn’t sleep at all.

You just don’t want Jasper or the others to find out about it. Not because you don’t trust them, or it’s some big, bad secret, of course. You just…You already feel so weak compared to them and all their amazing powers. You don’t feel the need to add to that, or worry them.

So, one day of hiding your fatigue isn’t too hard.

A week later, however, you feel like you’re falling apart at the seams.

You’re sitting in history class, trying to listen to whatever your teacher is saying about the civil war, and then the next moment, you’re jolting awake to the school bell. The shrill ringing sends pulses of pain through your head. They crash on you like waves, and you can’t breathe, can’t even open your eyes without nausea sweeping through you.

“Are you alright, Miss (L/n)?”

Vaguely, you can hear your teacher’s voice, but he sounds miles away. It feels like there’s cotton stuffed into your ears, which somehow makes the ringing in your head even louder. Despite the pain, and the sudden urge to throw up, you nod your head and slowly shuffle out of the room. Out of the room and into the loud, loud hallway.

“Hey (Y/n)!”

You flinch. Why are they screaming right in your ear? Everything in slow motion, you turn, eyes squinted but unable to make out the blurry figure jumping in front of you. Why are they moving so slow? Or are you moving slow? Why can’t you see their face?

The nausea comes crashing back over you, and you have to press a hand against the nearest wall to keep yourself upright. The person, you assume you know them, asks you something. What are they saying? The words mix and blend, getting lost and muffled in the cotton. Brow furrowed, you try to get them to repeat themselves, but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, like sand. You press a hand to your forehead, the pounding becoming more like someone taking a hammer to your skull. Everything feels so heavy, so loud, so…so…

Your head hits the tile before you can hear the surprised shrieks ringing through the hall.

---

Jasper jerks when he hears a loud scream sound from another hall across the school.

“What was that?” Alice asks, earning a few weird looks from the passing students. They hadn’t heard it, of course.

The blond vampire shrugs, but something uneasy starts to build in his chest. An accident on school grounds could mean blood, and losing control here would be a one way ticket to leaving Forks, leaving you. He can’t bear the thought.

“Should we go check it out?” Alice looks at him, gold eyes gleaming with concern. The same thoughts are running through her mind.

“No,” Jasper says tightly, lips pursed.

The ravenette nods in agreement, so the two continue towards their class. The uneasiness doesn’t go away, though. All Jasper can think about is you, where you might be, if you’re okay. You’d been acting strange the past week, and it only makes it worse that he can’t seem to get a grip on your emotions. It’s like you’re hiding them from him. That in itself worries him, but he trusts you, knows you’ll talk to him if you want to. He won’t push. Yet.

Jasper tries to put these thoughts out of his head as their algebra class starts. Though he doesn’t need to focus in the class (they had taken it several times at this point), keeping appearances is important to the Cullens. It is difficult though when images of you flitter through his head each time the teacher starts to drone.

Things come to an abrupt halt when the door flies open. Everyone jumps in their seats when it slams loudly against the wall.

Alice and Jasper exchange a look when Edward appears at the front, offering a sheepish smile before quickly talking to the teacher in a hushed voice. One only the vampires and he can hear.

“Jasper Hale and Alice Cullen have been requested at the office. There’s been an…incident,” Edward says in a calm, smooth voice. The teacher doesn’t even question him, just gestures for the pair to go.

“What’s going on, Edward?” Alice demands once they reach the hall. There were no visions, nothing about an accident with the family, so she feels horribly caught off guard.

Jasper walks a few paces ahead of his siblings, overwhelmed by the concern and shock rolling off of Edward. It’s not like him to project his emotions so loudly, and it sets the blond on edge. If he was feeling uneasy before, now he’s on the brink of panic. Had something happened to Bella? Was it good idea for him to be here if so?

“Bella is fine,” Edward assures him from behind, a hint of hesitation creeping into his voice as he continues, “It’s…It’s (Y/n).”

Jasper stops dead in his tracks. He whips around, wide eyes ablaze.

Both his siblings take a step back, unfamiliar with the wild, unbridled look on the blond. His careful composure is cracking. Things are different with you, they always have been. Despite having the ability to sense and influence emotions, Jasper struggles to contain himself when it comes to you. Everyone felt the shift when they met you. They had all been ecstatic to see Jasper’s more reserved nature slip away around you, but they never considered what else that could entail.

“She’s okay, Jasper,” Edward is quick to try and calm him, “She’s just resting in the nurse’s off-”

In the blink of an eye, he’s gone. Off to find you.

“You probably should have waited on that detail,” Alice murmurs, a touch of amusement in her words, “It’s nice to see how much he cares about her, though.”

Edward nods, but he can’t ward off the concern that pulls his lips into a thin line. Alice puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly before giving him a tug towards the office.

“Let’s go,” she insists, “and tell me what happened on the way, okay?”

---

You’re just waking up when Jasper rushes into the room. In less than a second, he is kneeling at your side, jaw clenched, eyes scanning every inch of you for injuries.

“Hey Jazz,” you croak, throat dry and scratchy.

Those wild amber eyes finally meet yours, and it feels like a punch to the gut, worse than the headache still clinging to you. They are filled to the brim with untamed concern and glazed over with exhaustion. But he can’t get tired. The thought makes you cringe. You did this, he’s feeling your emotions. Why did you let it get this far?

The building distress quickly fizzles out, replaced by a warmth, a sense of contentment. It’s unnatural, certainly Jasper’s gift, but you close your eyes anyways and let it take over. It is a welcomed break from the torrent you’ve been living through.

“Sorry if I scared you,” you break the small silence building between you, peaking an eye open to look at him again, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?”

Jasper nods curtly, but doesn’t say anything. You take that as the sign to keep talking. He deserves an explanation.

Starting with a deep breath, you hesitantly begin, “Well…I have insomnia. I um, it’s hard to fall asleep sometimes, and when I do, it’s hard to stay asleep.” You chew on your bottom lip. It almost sounds ridiculous, it’s like you don’t know how to sleep. You basically don’t. “You could say I’m going through a rough patch right now.”

One of Jasper’s hands covers yours, which you were fiddling with. His fingers interlace with yours gently, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“Darlin’...when was the last time you slept?”

It takes you a moment to think. Whenever things get bad, your memory is the first thing to go in the trash.

“Probably like, I mean, if we’re talking a decent amount of sleep, that was probably, probably a week ago?”

Jasper takes in a deep breath, jaw clenching once again. His grip on your hand tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough for you to know he’s distressed.

“I’m okay, though, I’ve been dealing with this for years,” you smile at him softly in reassurance.

Exhaustion is slowly creeping back towards you, tugging at your mind like an annoying little tick you can’t get rid of. He must notice too, because he suddenly looks around for a nurse, one of which is standing near the doorway to keep an eye on the two of you.

“May I take her home? She’ll be needin’ some rest after all of this.”

The nurse seems to hesitate, but you notice a small shift in her expression before she offers a warm smile and concedes, “Of course, hun. Make sure she gets home safe, we’ll give her parents a call.”

You go to get up, but are denied the chance to stand when Jasper quickly sweeps you up bridal style. A squeak escapes your parted lips, all the while a small grin tugs at the blond’s lips. You cling to his shoulders, squirming slightly, but his grip just tightens.

“I can walk on my own, you know,” you grumble and hit his chest weakly, “Don’t go to any trouble for me.”

The small twitch of his lips turns into one of his fully cocked smirks and he raises a brow at you, “Trust me, darlin’, it’s no trouble. If you don’t recall, I’m stronger than I look.”

You pout at the smugness in his voice. Stupid vampire. Stupid super strength. And he totally used his gift to convince that nurse to let you go. If you had any energy left, you’d probably find something snide to say, but all you want to do is curl into his cool embrace and fall asleep. Just one full night of sleep.

“Is she okay?”

Alice?

“You gave us a real fright, girlie.”

Yep, that’s Alice.

You offer an embarrassed smile, “Sorry, things got a bit out of hand, I guess.”

“You passed out in the hall.”

And Edward, of course. Makes sense how they found out now.

“I’m taking (Y/n) home so she can rest,” Jasper is quick to explain, “You two can head back to class.”

You hear a snort from your best friend, but she doesn’t pose an argument. She must be worried too, but it would look weird for her to leave. It’s bad enough that you’re dragging Jasper out. It’s a relief he offered though. Because there’s no way you could get home without a car, since both your parents are working.

“Can we um, can we take it slow, Jazz? Kinda nauseous,” you grumble, burying your face in his sweater.

“Of course, darlin’.” He presses his lips to your hair and the journey starts.

You let your eyes close, equal parts lulled and dizzied by the steady sway of Jasper’s steps. Despite taking it slow, it still feels like you reach your home in no time. When you open your eyes next, you’re right in front of your house. Jasper silently asks for your keys. You fish them from your pocket with trembling fingers. He glides into the house, kicking the door shut behind him as he carries you to your bedroom. With a gentleness beyond human, the blond settles you down on the bed.

You curl up under your comforter as he proceeds to speed around, gathering everything you could possibly need. Food, water, extra blankets. You wouldn’t think based on the way he presents himself that Jasper is actually the biggest, softest teddy bear. You don’t think you’ve met a kinder soul.

When everything is in its place, Jasper settles down on the edge of the bed. He glances around, as if looking for something he can do. You reach out to grab the hem of his sweater, bringing those gold eyes down to you.

“Can you stay? Cuddle?” You mumble with your best puppy dog eyes.

Jasper smiles softly, not one of his smirks or fanged grins, just one of his smiles that he reserves just for you, “Why, of course. Anything for you, darlin’.”

The blond slips under the blankets and leans against the backboard, shifting so you can curl into him, head on his lap. The exhaustion that has been lurking around you seems to be just on the edge, so close to letting you sleep, but something in your chest won’t settle. Him being here helps. You feel safer when he’s next to you. It feels like you didn’t even know the meaning of peace until you met Jasper.

The vampire senses the quick succession of your emotions. He tenderly threads his fingers through your hair and focuses on detangling the strands as he does the same to your emotions. For each one, he replaces them with something comforting to help you sleep. Safety, love, everything warm.

You melt into Jasper, the ache in your chest finally easing. 

“I love you,” you all but whisper, eyes fluttering closed.

He leans over, pressing one final kiss to your forehead. His lips brush your skin as he murmurs, “I love you too, now get some sleep.”

You giggle sleepily and bury your face back into his lap. The feeling of his fingers in your hair slowly lulls you to sleep, one you willingly give in to. And for the first time in a week, you stay asleep. All thanks to a certain Jasper Whitlock.

---

Love me some Jasper Whitlock. I felt like writing this because of my experience with insomnia, and I thought it would be interesting how that would work with Jasper's gift.

[decolonize-the-everything]

Just discovered what "littermate syndrome" is and I'm disgusted with colonizers

Nothing is sacred that threatens their place of power no matter how minor that place is; they can't stand the thought of not being the center of someone else's universe.

I can't imagine the battles they must have in their heads to feel so superior to everything and simultaneously so scared of losing that unnatural belief in superiority that they can't even let dog siblings be around each other. Because even that tiniest inkling of having an actual community with others is a threat to their place of power.

All this oppression to maintain their delicate sense of safety which wouldn't be in danger to begin with if they'd minded their fucking business and just let people be.

Not EVERYTHING is here for them to take.

To make this understandable and maybe even relatable, the way colonizers treat the earth and it's inhabitants is how the worst of men treat women under patriarchy. Theirs for the taking. If a woman- like unclaimed land- is unharmed and still full of potential it's because a man simply hasn't found her and taken that status from her yet. Her freedom entirely dependent on how long she can avoid being seen by someone who wants to brag about owning her and the way he changed her.

If colonizers were just men maybe it wouldn't take so long to understand why colonization and subjugation to this extent, like sexual assault, is so unforgivable.

But thats not the case. So instead of having half the population as allies I have to deal with reading articles about "littermate syndrome" because how else are you going to cope with abandoning your humanity for power while pretending it's "just the way things are"

If it was really 'just the way things are' I don't think they'd need so many rules and cops and laws and states, and even articles about dogs to enforce all those ideas. Colonizers fight their own humanity and try to convince everyone else to hate themselves just as much and then have the audacity to accuse anyone who doesn't of being "uncivilized" and a "savage"

Like how the value of a dog directly correlates to it's trainability.

And all dogs can be trained, right?

Some of them just need more intense training. Sometimes you just need to deprive them of everything and teach them every blessing is a gift their "owner" alone can give, right?

Gotta teach em manners and civility and to be grateful for the blessing of being owned. Cuz imagine if they weren't and they had to survive on your own? Imagine how awful freedom would be, (classic colonizer line).

How dangerous to be on your own, unowned. Could you imagine how much worse the next person would be? Being owned by a nice colonizer is salvation. And you should be lucky because some colonizers... Well the way they treat their property is unthinkable isn't it?

Like what they said to natives after we were upset at being thrust from our land and onto reservations. At least they gave us land, right? According to colonizers it's them we have to thank for electricity and having a pot to piss in anyway. They could've just killed us.

They say the same about Palestinians now. And about prisoners. And they said it during slavery. And they've certainly said it to children who misbehave (act like a child). They say it about dogs. The earth.

Everything could be worse, though, right?

What ungrateful savages we are for not understanding how happy we should be just to be given the gift of the next breath by people who insist on seeing themselves as gods above us like they don't bleed the same color with the same ease as the rest of us.

And boy do they hate being reminded of that

[allgremlinart]

[ Do NOT be deceived. Zuko's guards ARE on orders to let him in for booty calls. ]

post-canon jetko. Zuko isn't a rail-thin angry refugee anymore. Jet isn't hurting as bad as he did. He even finds himself new purpose after the war - hunting down still-rogue Fire Nation mercenaries and war criminals, housing orphans, and being occasional bounty hunter for hire (he's not as good as June, but he has his ways). And, of course, hitching a ride on the ship taking the Earth King's diplomatic embassy to the Fire Nation. The Avatar may have refused to kill the new Firelord if he steps out of line, but that doesn't mean Jet wouldn't. It's his job to go over there from time to time and remind certain people of this. If he so happens to have almost-civil discussions and intercourse with a head of state when he does so, that's purely incidental, and does not distract him in the slightest.

full pic ;]

[ Jet really DID visit Zuko's chambers with the intention of debriefing with and analyzing him, this time. To see if he could manipulate some more aid out of him, maybe, (Jet could play him like a fiddle, it wasn't hard,) or to wheedle him for lodgings and food for himself, or to see someone that he knew was just as restless as he was, regardless of peacetime, regardless that he shouldn't still feel like that. However, he caught Zuko right after he had a... meeting. With an Earth Kingdom noble. And, well... when you grow up deprived you learn you don't turn down leftovers. Or sloppy seconds, as it were. ]

[viennakarma]

hear me out... ending 3: secrets

she just doesn't tell him, publicise their divorce, she's disappeared off the face of the earth basically, she keeps the baby, it's a boy, looks just like him but they just never see each other again. Lewis is upset, can't cope, just keeps partying, drinking during off season, or just gym gym gym not even socialising as much, fashion declines like no longer going for all the cool different clothes and just comes in trousers and merc top.

But how does he find out? when?

Maybe she's just out living a normal life now but an old fan recognises her, she's with her brother and son, maybe they don't recognise the brother and they think she's got a new man and kid, she always wanted a kid and Lewis was never ready wanting to wait. maybe that photo gets released so lewis finds out that way. loads of rumours on twitter. maybe not directly, someone else could bring it up. Jealous then realises. He tries to contact her, doesnt work, blocked on everything. He remembers where her parents house is and visits them, eventually meets yn and their son. Then co-parenting. But like no friendly friendly just civil. She has the son, Lewis has him on free weeks. She does eventually move up cuz when her son is with lewis, she has free time for dates. Just a regular guy tho and it's all great and eventually lewis also tries moving on but like fr this time. so like eventually yn and her new bf move in together, live a happy faithful life and have another kid. while lewis maybe has just won his 8th (or 9th depending on time line) but it's not what he dreamed of, not having yn to celebrate with. But he's got his now long term gf and he proposes.

so basically to summarise, she is alone, single mom, gets exposed, Lewis finds her, civil co-parenting, yn gets a bf happy life, Lewis eventually gets a gf, happy without each other

This is a little blurb on how I imagine a third ending of Say Something would go:

You leave, right after finding out about the pregnancy, maybe somewhere far from England and Monaco. Lewis doesn’t deserve to reap what you saw after ruining your future. He doesn’t deserve you or your kid or to play happy family. You move away, maybe to a farm Australia, since you’ve always wanted a quiet life anyway. Your parents and brother accept moving in with you to help with the risky pregnancy. It’s tough, you can’t do much to risk your health and the baby’s. Soon you find out it’s a boy, you’re happy something good came out of a dumpster fire that was your relationship with him. Him, because you don’t say his name anymore, trying to leave his memory behind.

You baby boy is delivered in a difficult C-section, one your brother and parents never left your side and you felt less alone, not sharing the moment with the father of your kid. The day is happy and sunny, so you name him Helio, like the sun. Like the light in your life. You realize you’ll never fully leave his memory behind, his son being his spitting image. The same hair, the same complexion, the same nose, the same shiny brown eyes and chubby baby cheeks. And you love him so much it hurts. You realize you may have lost him, but Helio was pretty much his copy.

Following your baby’s firsts is the happiest you’ve ever felt. Saying ‘mama’ for the first time, taking his first steps, playing with animals and saying his first words. You settle in a happy routine as a single mom. After the pregnancy, your parents move back to England because they couldn’t just leave their house. Your brother stay with you and your sister move in too, after finishing college.

You try not to know about him. Last you had heard was during the pregnancy, hearing about endless parties, trips and models, that had taken a toll on you, in a way you decided to stop looking. He had a life and you had a completely different one now.

Helio goes to school, eventually. Despite feeling protective, you know you can’t deprive him of a true kindergarten experience, not only for studies, but also for his formative years and to become socially active. The first year, your sister, who has a volunteering job close to his school, is the one who picks Helio up everyday. He makes friends at school and even invite them for a birthday party at the farm. It’s one of the happiest moments for him, eating cake with friends and showing them his pets.

During his second year, though, your sister get a little sick, so she can’t pick Helio from school. And you decide to go, along with your brother. It’s a hot day, so you stop by a park to eat frozen yogurt and let Helio play a little while.

That day, someone recognised you and recorded you.

That’s how Lewis finds you. The video eventually find its way to him. The post has a silly caption ‘for everyone wondering what had happened to y/n, seems like she found a new man and started a family’. Lewis scoffs because he knows the man in the video is your brother and you are thick as thieves ever since you were kids.

You’re just as pretty as ever. Maybe a little more curvy, and hair longer, but just the same, still the most beautiful woman-

But then he pauses. He zooms in the video and see the toddler running up to you. The little boy, who makes your eyes light up as you hug him, sharing what looks like ice cream or something. And from what Lewis can imagine, the boy looks 4 or 5 years old. But there’s no denying, he looks exactly like Lewis as a baby, if he put a baby picture of him beside the boy in the video, it would be the same. It was a matter of time until some of his fans put two and two together.

That’s how Lewis ends up going to your parents’ house in England. He had gone there after the divorce, but the house was for rent and he couldn’t contact your parents of you, after cutting him off completely. Now, when he knocks, you mum is the one to open.

“Is he mine?” Is all he asks, breathing hard.

Your mom let him in, seeing his state of distress. She doesn’t lie nor sugarcoat it. She tried to convince you to let Lewis know about the kid. Helio, he muses, whispering the name of the little boy he never even met.

He goes to Australia with your mum, not even letting you know first, because your mum believed you’d run away once again.

When he makes it to the farm, you’re out in the field with Helio, you two running and playing together barefoot on the grass. He hears Helio’s laugh, yours too, and something inside him breaks. He’s seeing before his eyes the life he threw away for one stupid mistake.

As soon as you notice him, you stop laughing, holding Helio behind you, protective. You call your brother out, asking him to take Helio upstairs and not leave until you say so. Lewis just watches helplessly as your brother takes his nephew inside and Lewis couldn’t even get a closer look at his son.

“Mom, what did you do?” You say, betrayed. You mum explains everything and you invite both of them inside.

Inside, you fight, almost shouting until you remember Helio upstairs, forcing yourself to calm down. Lewis feels betrayed, you tell to his face he doesn’t deserve this life. You pull a stack of documents, asking Lewis to sign. It’s a contract saying he gives up any rights over the kid. Lewis cries.

Your mother mediates.

After what feels like hours of arguing back and forth, you accept Lewis begging to know his kid, begging to be part of his life. How could you deny your kid of a father now you couldn’t hide him behind a layer of ignorance?

You introduce father and son a couple of days later, in the presence of a child therapist, to help mediate. Helio is skittish in the beginning, but he quickly warms up to Lewis. Sometimes, he run backs to you, hugging you tightly, feeling shy. You reassure him, letting him go back to meeting his father.

“Mama, do all daddies take this long?” Helio asks that night when you’re putting him to sleep. You swallow your tears when answering.

“No, my baby. Not all of them. One day you’ll understand better, yes?”

The first time Lewis takes Helio for the day, you cry for hours, feeling like a mother bird in an empty nest. He had invited his family to a nearby city, only 40 minutes away so he could introduce Helio to them. It’s planned for them to come back by dinner time, to not disturb Helio’s routine. But they come back earlier and your baby looked like he’d been crying. Worried, you carry him inside while Lewis explains that the first few hours Helio was enjoying himself and meeting everyone, but after a while, he started crying because he ‘wanted Mama’. Selfishly, that makes your heart grow easier, because you know Helio would never forget you, and in the end of the day, he’d would always want Mama’s arms.

The first months are like torture, until you get used to Helio coming back at the end of the day. Your Helio, your baby, becomes Helio Hamilton when Lewis registers him. Lewis tries to win you over many times, with gifts, inviting you to dates, until you have a stern talk with him, telling him it wasn’t happening. That every time you were polite and respectful to him, Helio’s well being is the only thing in your mind.

Eventually, the media finds out about Helio. Lewis blatantly lies, saying he had been keeping his son’s existence a secret for his safety and privacy. People mostly respected his wishes.

You see Lewis’ family for the first time again at Helio’s fifth birthday. You thought they’d hate you for hiding their grandkid/nephew, but they treat you with the same kindness as always, and you feel just a tiny bit of guilt for hiding Helio for so long.

You realised that you had much more free time now that Helio was with Lewis half of the time. So you started going to the gym, going shopping, not only for Helio but for yourself, you went to museums, parks and eventually, dates.

One day you meet Leon, a recluse just like you. He’s a writer, living in a cottage in a close city. You hit it off, but you and him get to know each other for a whole year before you introduce him to your family, and Lewis. Your ex-husband doesn’t take it well, admitting that deep down he thought you’d go back and be a family. You tell him, he ruined that himself.

You find some resemblance of balance. With Lewis’ coming to pick Helio whenever he had free time, you weren’t friends just a cold politeness.

Lewis, whenever he had to pick Helio, he found you and Leon sitting by the porch, or horseback riding, or helping Helio with homework and school projects, he would always envy your life, the happy family he could have, but he had only himself to blame. When he finds out by Helio you’re having another baby, he swears a part of him dies forever, buried alongside your love for him, and the future he threw away. Eventually, Lewis married again, a woman who loves him, loves Helio and she even gets along with you well, and that’s all he can ask for, knowing deep down he would never love someone else the way he loved you.

PHEW! I may have gotten carried away. Thank you for your ideia, Anon! I hope this was alright!

[makenoplans]

all gale banter! (that i am currently aware of)

hiii gale enthusiasts, i just spent the past few hours picking through videos trying to find all of gales party banter and transcribing it! check under the cut for verbose details

copied directly from the doc i transcribed this into so youll have to bear with the initials to denote who is speaking when! generally speaking, initials are a=astarion, g=gale, h=halsin, j=jaheira, k=karlach, l=lae'zel, m=minthara, s=shadowheart, and w=wyll

(except for two minsc quotes that are also m, both where he mentions his name so like... it's obvious)

transcribed with attention paid to particular noises characters make that aren't quite whole words and also words that are emphasized!

please let me know if youre aware of any banter ive missed!

warning: long

G: Karlach! A hypothetical question for you. If someone - not me, of course - detected a hint of romantic interest in them from another… unnamed individual, erm, what might that someone… do about it?

K: Whoever it is, just talk to them, Gale! And leave out the hypotheticals.

G: Talking. Right! I'm good at that!

A: So, Gale, how is your sad, hopeless pining going?

G: [Ach!] I'm hardly pining! Been a year or more since Mystra cast me aside!

A: Oh, my dear wizard, I wasn't talking about Mystra.

W: I used to believe the beauty of first love was unable to be surpassed, but Gale, you are so much more tolerable now that you've found your second.

G: I'll take that comment with the sincerity and good will I assume it was intended.

G: Have you noticed any attachments of the more, er, romantic variety flourishing in our camp, Wyll?

W: I think I'm not the right person to be asking. I can recognize a troll silhouette on a far horizon, but I wouldn't know a flirtation if you whacked me alongside the head with it.

G: I see you waste no time pursuing your quarry, Astarion.

A: Hmph! I rather thought I was a little slow this time. Usually they're begging me to dream them on the first night.

G: Tell me - you always woo your lovers with such patient attention?

A: As the vampire ascendant I can grant my lover immortality and bind them to me forever.

G: Hmm. I trust you speak of the bonds of love, not the shackles of servitude.

G: Am I to understand that you are in love now, Karlach?

K: I sure am. [heh] If there's hope for me, there's hope for anyone.

G: I'm surprised you're permitted to choose a partner outside of your own people.

L: We had to use and misuse each civilization in the stars in every way we know. I do not conquer by blade alone, Gale.

G: I can't imagine Mother Gith would approve. Doesn't she prefer us lesser species enslaved? Or eviscerated?

M: You've been smiling like a fool of late, wizard. Explain yourself.

G: I found love. Surely even you wouldn't begrudge me some happiness?

M: All I can say on the matter is that you were wise to lower your standards from the godly to the ghastly.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel: is it common for githyanki to fall in love?

L: Love? Is that this feeling in me, then? This passion to peel every layer of one's heart to see what light and shadows lurk there? I doubt I am the first githyanki to… to feel this way, but few would ever declare it. Githyanki have playmates, thrill partners but I've never heard anyone profess love, nor read of it in our slates.

L: Gale, I've heard you talking in your sleep. Your mate needs better rest for our journey.

G: And deprive them of the pleasure of hearing my nocturnal postulations? I'd never be so cruel. The mind absorbs much while we believe ourselves dormant. To lie beside Gale of Waterdeep is positively educational.

G: If you're feeling faint after your bout with Cazador, Astarion, I don't mind donating some blood.

A: Aha! Well, you're still full of that Netherese bile, I'll pass, thank you! Besides, I have someone else to nibble on, and they are delicious.

G: I'm glad to know you have a softer side, Minthara. I was beginning to think you rather… heartless.

M: Loving another is not soft, wizard. It is one of the hardest things a person can do.

G: So you admit you found love! Aww. How delightful. I'm happy for you both.

A: So, how was your night with Gale? Did you have a long, hard debate?

G: Ugh. Ignore him. Astarion envies the depth of a bond because he's of a shallower inclination.

G: So Astarion, I hear your relationship has taken on a new aspect recently.

A: My life has taken on "a new aspect." It's only natural that my relationships change as well.

G: Halsin! You must have accumulated considerable wisdom on matters of the heart in your long life. Anything you'd like to pass on to a… strapping, lovestruck wizard such as myself?

H: [hehehe] Dispensing advice on matters of the heart would be like swapping boots. What suits me may be a… poor fit for you.

G: Ah. Well. There's no faulting that logic. At least you didn't tell me to "be myself."

H: Oh no, perish the thought. That can be outright cruel advice to offer in certain cases.

G: Indulge me, Lae'zel, as someone unfettered by Faerunian beauty standards: how would you appraise my appearance?

L: Your beard looks like the hairy tufts upon the [surlon], the largest of wyrmkind that sliver our skies.

G: Hm. I suppose that's… a bad thing? No. Don't answer that.

G: Wild-shaping must sprinkle some spice on your love life, Halsin.

H: Heh. Indeed it does. Did you… never experience such delights with Mystra? I, uh, hear the gods enjoy taking on the forms of swans, horses, eagles and the like when… visiting with mortals?

G: Oh no, quite the opposite, actually! She mostly preferred our interactions to be abstract, and incorporeal. Most invigorating.

G: So, Lae'zel, have you ever been tempted to use psionics in your, uh, romantic endeavors?

L: Only once. Did you know, in low-gravity settings, githyanki can maintain aerial suspension for hours at a time?

G: Fascinating! I think the arch-mage Tasha described a spell with similar affect! I really must look that up.

G: I've always felt flames to be a rather perfect expression of love, Karlach. Passionate! Primal! Capable of bestowing the most life-affirming comfort - or - inflicting the profoundest damage.

L: That's… pretty nice. Never thought about it like that. But… now I will.

G: I've been pondering something, Lae'zel. Why is it that githyanki have bellybuttons, hm? When they hatch from eggs?

L: I did not grant you permission to gaze upon my midriff.

G: I- I wasn't gazing! Merely observing! Though that can hardly be said for a certain someone else.

G: Y'know, Karlach, there are other ways to express love beyond run-of-the-mill physicality.

K: Ugh! Are you going to try and teach me about exceptional uses for a mage hand or what?

G: W-well actually, I was thinking of poetry!

K: Oops. Sorry. But, uh, now that I think of it… is mage hand especially hard to learn?

G: Even shaped by shadow as it is, Sharran architecture has a kind of beauty to it.

K: Beautifully intimidating. This place was meant to scare people into submission.

G: There you go. Cutting right through the ephemera to the heart of the matter. Hm! Your finest quality, I think.

K: Uh. Here I thought I rubbed you the wrong way.

G: Nothing wrong with a bit of friction now and then. You help me keep my mind sharp.

K: Aw, thanks, pal! I think.

G: When we met, Shadowheart, your gaze seemed to linger in the distance on some unseen goal, some insubstantial purpose. But I notice now your gaze settles on something or someone much closer.

S: Is it that obvious?

G: Of course! There's nothing escapes a wizard's powers of observation.

A: I gave my return to Baldur's Gate a lot of thought. I never pictured this, though.

G: Ah, what did you have in mind? A quiet party? Toasting your own return with a few good friends?

A: Less "quiet party with friends", more "days of hedonistic debauchery", but otherwise… yes!

G: Hmm. Sounds like a recipe for disaster. But you know what? I'm learning to enjoy the taste of chaos. Count me in.

G: I've heard that in Baldur's Gate, "wizard" is also a term used for one who eschews their more, [hr-hrm] carnal desires. Is that true, Wyll?

W: Where are we going with this, Gale?

G: Oh, nowhere. Just think it's a rather cruel misnomer, not at all reflective of the glamor wizarding life affords.

A: So Gale, you laid with a goddess? You must have some sordid tales to tell.

G: Sordid? I lay with the Mother of Magic herself! What we had was… transcendent. Euphoric. Incandescent. Not sordid!

A: You actually made sleeping with a goddess sound boring. Hm. Incredible.

A: I am enjoying our walks together, aren't you, Gale?

G: Uhh… sure! In silence.

G: When you've loved a goddess as I have, people often think you less experienced in the way of romance.

S: She just lives on another plane! [heh] Only jesting. I'm in no position to judge, especially after what happened with Shar.

G: It's true for a time, I neglected the physical in favor of celestial euphoria. But our relationship was no less real for it.

G: I feel I've been rather hasty to judge you, Astarion. One heartbreak was quite enough for me, but to experience it as many times as you have… must change a person.

A: Thank you, Gale, but let us both hope that broken hearts are a thing of the past.

A: So, do you have loves waiting for you once this is all over?

G: You know what, that is not the easiest of questions for me to answer.

S: You mean just… waiting? Like a lovesick puppy?

M: Do you have elder siblings, wizard?

G: You're about to say something awful, aren't you?

M: In Menzoberranzan, after a house has two sons, every subsequent male-born child is slaughtered at birth, as it is useless, even for breeding. You have the aura of a third child about you.

G: The architect who built this must have been remarkable. Pity their vision didn't stand the test of time.

K: All's not lost. I mean, just look at this place!

G: You've quite the knack for finding the bright side of things, haven't you?

K: Hope keeps you going.

K: So Gale, got any book recommendations for me?

G: You can read?

K: Hmph. Yes, very funny. I can read. School put me off big, boring tomes. Sometimes I wonder what I'm missing.

G: Ah! Say no more. I'll find the perfect book for you. I might even lend it to you from my library in Waterdeep, ooh.

K: Ooh, something with magic please! And no devils!

G: Do you feel that? The darkness, pulling at the strands of the Weave?

K: Er, you'll still be able to do your wizard thing though, right?

G: Of course. Doesn't make the shadows less dangerous.

K: Joy.

M: Gale. Minsc worries you might send a fireball up his butt with all of this… stringy hair in your face.

G: Is that why you keep your head shaved? I assumed it was a custom of some sort.

M: Oh, no. Most warriors of [Rashinan] wear long battle braids weighed down with stone. Minsc can show you, when next we camp.

G: Thank you, but I'm more wizard than warrior. Not sure my scalp would stand up to such a plaiting.

A: Gods! We're not back, are we?

G: On the Nautiloid, no. This is a different nursery. Similar, but not identical. There's likely one in every colony.

A: I don't care what's in every mind flayer colony, Gale. Nobody does. Except you.

A: Ugh, another ruined temple full of foul-smelling beasts spoiling for a fight.

G: No mere temple. This was a monastery, devoted as much to study as to worship.

A: Oh, how ignorant of me. So it'll be free of foul-smelling beasts then?

G: Quite the opposite. Some monastic orders celebrated their pungency as proof of their devotion. "To think is to stink" was the motto of one ill-fated brotherhood near Arm. Oh! Huh, but you meant beasts of the life-threatening variety. Yes I'm sure it's teeming with those.

A: Moonlanterns to keep the curse back? Burly guards to fight off any monsters? I could get used to this place.

G: Don't get too comfortable. We shouldn't overstay our welcome in such a place.

A: No, of course! Why stay somewhere safe and comfortable when we could be in mortal peril?

H: Ah, Last Light Inn. Half aglow and lanterns lit. Just like a hundred years ago.

G: I imagine the vista was more idyllic back then. As were its patrons' chances of surviving the walk home.

H: [Grunt.] Still though, when you are expecting nothing but desolation, even a small glimmer of hope fills the heart. To think long ago, the druids feared this market down would grow into a city and threaten nature's realm… little did we realize what the true threat was.

G: Divination is a skill few can master. The rest of us must simply muddle along, content to view the past with a clarity the future rarely offers.

H: Perhaps I can yet turn hindsight into foresight, provided the curse is lifted. The better way for all. Whole generations were denied their chance to flourish… I must put this right, for them.

A: That orb seems powerful. What could it do once it's extracted?

G: Nothing good can come of it unless it is contained. Why.

A: It might be useful. Who knows?

G: I must tell you, Shadowheart, the bathing waters here leave much to be desired. The ablutions offered at the Temple of Beauty in Waterdeep were far superior - and, they have the most excellent soaps.

S: Hmm. I was wondering why you always smelled like a wealthy dowager.

A: From sweet woodland to stinking swamp. Can you do tricks like that, Gale?

G: Easiest thing in the world. Though I'd do it the other way around.

H: Brickwork and stonework. This place is far out of balance with nature, but the Oak Father will reclaim this all eventually.

G: Not too soon, I hope! I've a craving for a soft bed, a hot bath, and a large glass of Arabellan Dry. None of which I've ever found hidden under a log.

H: Hah, you may thrive, but what of other life? A city is no place for wild creatures.

G: Cities teem with life! Rats, pigeons, flies… they count no less, for all their more pestilent qualities.

G: The Society of brilliance has quite the reputation. Even Waterdhavian academics refer to their works from time to time.

S: They talk a great deal but do very little. Which may be for the best.

G: I take it you're not inclined to study the wonders of the Underdark?

S: Its inhabitants and cultures, maybe. Its fungi and cave slime, no thank you.

W: Ethel mentioned Netherese magic. What in blazes does that mean?

G: Magic from the fallen empire of Netheril. Ancient. Exceedingly dangerous. And quite unrivalled.

A: Wonderful. I'd hate to be destroyed by any common old magic.

G: Home and hearth, reduced to ruins. The shadow curse stole more than the light from this place.

H: That is why it must be stopped. Imagine a whole century of life and love denied the chance to ever take place.

G: A hidden shrine dedicated to the Moonmaiden herself. Even amidst this darkness, Selunites are stubborn enough to cling on.

K: Pretty beautiful, isn't it?

G: Look around you! Indulge your curiosity! Sorcerous Sundries is the finest purveyor of magical miscellany for miles around.

K: Where's the axes?

G: What they sell is far more precious than mere sword or shield! They sell knowledge! Ingenuity! The wisdom of mages past.

K: [yawns] Ugh, sounds like more your thing than mine.

K: Doing alright, Gale?

G: Oh, you know. Still alive and kicking despite being surrounded on all sides by an endless manifestation of… darkness and decay.

K: I feel it too. Here if you need a pick-me-up.

G: It strikes me that, for a mind flayer colony, there are remarkably few mind flayers about the place.

K: Squiddies have gone to war, is my guess.

G: On the Absolute's behalf? Now there's an alliance I'd've been quite happy without.

K: Aw, man, adventuring is thirsty work.

G: There used to be a monastery in this region known for producing a wonderful ale.

K: Ah, that sounds like heaven. Wait. Used to?

G: Oh yes, long ruined, I'm afraid. No chance of a frothing pitcher awaiting us there, but still. At least your thirst for knowledge is quenced!

K: Ugh!

W: It might seem a bit ramshackle, but this place is a boastworthy bar.

G: A bar is only as good as its cellars. Which vintages can we expect on its racks?

W: Here, a bottle is judged more by its ability to crack heads than the quality of its contents.

G: Ah. If that's the main criteria then I shall reset my expectations accordingly. Water it is!

K: We're not taking a boat to Baldur's Gate, right?

G: And give the Absolute free reign to use us as target practice from the banks? I think not!

K: Ugh. My mum always said the Chionthat was unlucky.

G: I don't suppose you've any clue where we are in relation to Waterdeep?

K: From this distance between Elturel and Baldur's Gate, I'd say… a long way away.

G: Ah. That will make getting word to my mother rather tricky. No matter. What she doesn't know can't hurt her. Not at this distance, anyway.

G: Nothing like a brisk stroll through the forest to invigorate the spirit.

K: I was just thinking the same thing! But… poetically.

G: And without so much as a stirring from our tadpoles.

K: A girl could get used to this.

L: These children and their pets lack discipline. Were they githyanki, I'd recommend further training.

G: Not everyone approaches the raising of their young with such militaristic vigor.

L: That is the very purpose of training. To determine which children shall be warriors, and which are suited to other roles. As for the unruly animals, they would make for nutritious marching rations.

G: Mm, that's certainly one way to make them behave.

L: These flowers are quite vivid, not to mention pungent. Not to my liking.

G: Are there no flowers in [tunirath]?

L: In the city of death, the m'lar cultivate the fruiting bodies that sprout from the corpses of the slain.

G: Huh. I'd rather get them from my florist in Waterdeep, if it's all the same to you.

G: That zaith'isk you mentioned intrigues me. Care to tell me a bit more?

L: An intricate device crafted by m'lar, our most gifted artisans. I am sworn to say no more.

S: Why must the Dead Three be so obvious and ugly with their decor? Blood and bones, bones and blood… Pointy nonsense. At least Shar had some panache.

G: As did Mystra's home on Elysium. Her ribbed vaults and buttresses created a magic entirely of their own… not to mention their pleasure domes.

S: Hah! Pleasure dome.

G: It's a perfectly legitimate architectural feature!

G: The road to Baldur's Gate is a long one. Who knows how long it'll take these folks to get there on foot.

S: If they make it. They're slow, vulnerable. Half or more will die long before Basilisk Gate.

G: Doesn't seem to trouble you a jot.

S: What good would it do for me to be troubled? We can't save them all.

S: You seem to know a good deal about our condition, Gale.

G: Everything, really. Not to put too fine a point on it.

S: A humble specimen, aren't you?

G: On occasion.

G: They're not mutually exclusive! The weave is served best with a dash of eloquence.

G: There's magic here, but it's of a rancid, impure form. Nothing like the true Weave at all.

L: This is why I appreciate a sharp blade to a ball of fire or a bolt of lightning. The Weave is inconsistent, unruly.

G: The Weave is constant, but its users - anything but. We must be on our guard.

L: A githyanki warrior hardly needs to be told that.

L: What is this? This place makes me feel sad, melancholy.

G: Ah, so you're susceptible to the tragedy of a broken home. Maybe you've more in common with us weaker beings than you thought.

L: There's no call to be insulting.

G: Not to diminish our efforts, but. Was rather simple getting here in the end, wasn't it?

L: The obstacles ahead prove to be higher still, which will make the pleasure of overcoming them all the more potent. Imagine the glorious din of it all, the streaming banners, the charging knights. The piles of severed limbs and heads.

G: Mm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.

G: Whatever I expected to find lurking in this cursed gloom, it certainly wasn't this. A glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

S: That's one way of looking at it. You could also say it's a prime target, the one pocket of light in the gloom.

G: Oh pragmatism, thy name is Shadowheart. You're not wrong, though. Best we keep our sojourn here to a minimum.

G: So! Shadowheart. Such a name implies yours is a difficult heart to find.

S: It's not that hard to find. Perhaps any difficulty is more telling of you, Gale.

G: I always wondered what a vampire's lair would look like. Can't say I pictured it being quite this… theatrical.

L: I find it surprisingly similar to Queen Vlaakith's aesthetic.

G: That makes sense. She does have a flair for the dramatic.

G: No day, no night. It's as though time itself has abandoned this place. Similar to the Astral Plane in some ways, wouldn't you say, Lae'zel?

L: Mm, hardly. It is said that the Astral Plane is threaded with light and silver, life-giving and wondrous in all directions. Nothing like this dismal abyss.

G: Tell me, Lae'zel, what is it like on the Astral Plane? Your home realm intrigues me.

L: Githyanki lay their eggs on other planes. They cannot mature in the Astral.

L: A tadpole nursery, as on the Nautiloid.

G: Quite right, so long as the attempt won't leave us similarly dismantled.

L: Caution is commendable. Boldness is extraordinary. In this case, I recommend the latter.

W: You're an impressive fighter, Gale. You should consider a new name.

G: I take it you have some suggestions?

W: The Wizard Wonder. Or, how about… the Master of the Weave?

G: Tempting, but I think we already have the maximum number of theatrical titles.

G: Pigeons, gulls, sparrows. These streets would make a fine hunting ground for a tressym like Tara.

M: In the Underdark, we have packs of winged hounds to deal with vermin like your precious Tara.

G: Flying hounds? Come now, you're pulling my leg. Aren't you?

M: Yes, I am. It is the bats that would make a meal of her.

M: Umberlee. Her clerics possess a nasty streak as wide as her oceans.

G: So their reputation suggests, especially among the good folk of Waterdeep. I'm curious to learn how you fell foul of them.

M: Blasphemy, said the temple priestess, but Minsc says do not give horns to your statues if you do not wish the visitors to try and make them toot.

G: Yes. That would probably do it.

W: I admire your courage, Gale.

G: Thank you! Any particular reason?

W: Between the orb and the bug, you've got more than your fair share of unwelcome passengers.

G: What can I say? Mother always told me to be a gracious host.

G: My, my. Well I'll say this for the bonecloaks: they know their mushrooms.

S: Perhaps they should expand their horizons. Too much time spent obsessing over fungi seems to leave them a bit, well… like them.

G: Oh, a byproduct of their profession. Few can spend a lifetime inhaling fungal spores without turning out a bit… muddled between the years.

W: This is it, Gale. Today, we annihilate the heart of the Absolute's power.

G: Entirely unnecessary. Though, if they are so inclined, I might be convinced to share a stanza or two of my own for inspiration! Whatever outcome of what's just ahead… it will be the stuff of legends.

G: I knew you were a graceful man, Wyll, but I hear you're quite the dancer, too! I've been known to trip the light fantastic myself. Mine was a popular hand at the annual Blackstaff's Ball.

W: I'd have loved to have witnessed it, Gale. I wager you are as elegant on the dance floor as you are on the battlefield.

S: What did you mean before, Gale? "A woman with shadows for eyes", you said.

G: Merely that if the eyes are the mirror to the soul, yours have dark curtains across the mirror. No offense taken, I hope.

S: Not necessarily. I haven't made up my mind about you yet.

A: Ever heard of a vampire called Cazador, Wyll?

W: I don't think so, no. Why? Friend of yours?

G: He's patriarch of the Szarr family. Nasty fellow, if the histories are accurate.

A: I imagine they are.

L: The right of these prisoners to die in mortal combat was stolen from them.

G: Hardly the worst atrocity the Absolute's committed.

L: One of many, but by no means the least. To die properly is a matter of honor.

W: This is no aimless horde. The Absolute's forces are organized. What do you make of it, Gale?

G: All enemies have some chink in their armor, no matter how much they like to believe themselves invulnerable.

W: And if we don't find any clear weakness?

G: Then we hope our mutual strengths are enough to dominate them. Or! We die nobly in the attempt.

G: I was wondering about your queen, Vlaakith. What tales of her reach us are terrifying. I suppose that's not how you would describe her.

L: Vlaakith is unity. Fear and beauty, life and unlife… eyes like onyx, teeth like daggers. There is none more perfect.

S: Sounds vile. I assume the meaning of perfect was lost in translation.

G: Moonrise Towers lies ahead. We're nearing the heart of the Absolute, I'm certain of it.

W: Then let us push forward, head high, weapons in hand, and turn this tower to rubble.

G: Your confidence is encouraging, but a little premature. Let's keep our eyes on the task ahead- or eye, as the case may be.

W: Who's in charge of the mind flayers, Lae'zel? Is there a squid king or something?

L: No. Each ghaik is servant to an elder brain. No king unites elders, only their collective tyranny.

G: A mind flayer monarch! Imagine that. Such a thing could shatter worlds!

K: Ready to enter the belly of the beast?

G: Ugh. It's the stairs I'm dreading.

G: No sign of tentacles so far.

S: The same. Except for a knot of worry in my stomach that's in no rush to go away.

G: That I can relate to.

G: The masons here thought they were building something to last. How wrong they were.

W: Perhaps it's a blessing that none of them survived to see it fall to the shadows.

G: No need for such a grim assumption. Halsin helped many to escape these shadows before the town was consumed.

W: Then some masons were more blessed still, if they could put their talent to use elsewhere. Perhaps some of their work even graces Baldur's Gate.

S: You seemed quite forward with your compliments earlier. We'd only just met.

G: Seize the day, I say. More now than ever.

S: Careful you don't pull a muscle in this place.

S: Isn't it so that every time you speak as you cast a spell, you're endeavoring to call upon Mystra? I'm surprised she still listens to you.

G: She has no choice. She's sworn to hear all magic users. Even me. I'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations.

G: The history of the city itself is captured in the archives here. A fascinating resource.

W: I wonder what those archives will reveal about us a hundred years hence.

G: Only the most excellent and complimentary things. With some encouragement from us, of course.

G: Look at this place. Such horrors defy description.

S: Silence can be best. Give it a try sometime.

S: What if this creche doesn't work out, Lae'zel? What if your kin fail you?

L: If I can reach the creche, my kin will provide. Any failure will be mine alone.

S: If you say so. Just don't expect me to put all my eggs in the same basket.

G: That expression must sound curious to a githyanki ear, given the way they're birthed.

G: Gods. Who knew such a vile abscess lurked in the bedrock of this city? The very stone reeks of misery and despair.

J: Mm. A sad shrine kept by the lunatic and the lost. The last time I was here, I promised myself I would die beneath open sky. I have not changed my mind.

G: Nor should you. Far better to feel a cool breeze on your skin than whatever foul expirations blow through these halls.

A: Eh, can't say I love what they've done with the place.

G: Unsurprising, really. Fanatical cultists tend to care more for ambience then aesthetics.

A: Hrm. Reason enough to put them all to the sword, I say.

A: Heh, what's this? A clever little hideaway. A little too clever, if you ask me. Watch out for traps.

G: Not just clever. Rather ingenious! Somehow its construction keeps the shadow curse away.

S: The end must be near. No regrets, Gale? You may have been better off staying inside this boulder.

G: Unlikely. Had I stayed there much longer, the orb would have reduced it to rubble. Besides, think of all the fun I'd've missed out on.

S: Fun? Well, yes… I suppose we did manage to make the best of things.

[joshuaalbert]

edit: I’m turning off reblogs on this post which I probably should’ve done a long time ago but I forgot that was a feature lmao. it was a liveblog that I dashed off in 30 seconds was not meant to reach like thousands of people bc the rest of them got 3 notes and i did not do a great job of explaining my thoughts or a complex sociopolitical reading my bad

quark’s whole thing about “[Humans are] a wonderful, friendly people as long as their bellies are full and their holosuites are working. But take away their creature comforts, deprive them of food, sleep, sonic showers, put their lives in jeopardy over an extended period of time, and those same friendly, intelligent, wonderful people will become as nasty and as violent as the most bloodthirsty Klingon. You don't believe me? Look at those faces. Look in their eyes. You know I'm right, don't you?” is SO fascinating to me like. even with a fair number of nonhuman main characters we’re still used to seeing humans as the default and as Benevolent and Civilized, but ds9 so frequently reminds us that so much of that is situational. but even then it’s usually been from a human perspective looking at someone else, it’s sisko’s “it’s easy to be a saint in paradise,” but this specific take on how other races see humans (and specifically the way they see them as a threat when placed in the wrong circumstances) is SUCH an interesting piece of worldbuilding to me

[atheistcartoons]

“Of all the animosities which have existed among mankind, those which are caused by a difference of sentiments in religion appear to be the most inveterate and distressing, and ought to be deprecated. I was in hopes that the enlightened and liberal policy, which has marked the present age, would at least have reconciled Christians of every denomination so far that we should never again see the religious disputes carried to such a pitch as to endanger the peace of society.”

George Washington in a letter to Edward Newenham, October 20, 1792.

“History, I believe, furnishes no example of a priest-ridden people maintaining a free civil government. This marks the lowest grade of ignorance of which their civil as well as religious leaders will always avail themselves for their own purposes.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Alexander von Humboldt, December 6, 1813.

“The civil government functions with complete success by the total separation of the Church from the State.”

James Madison, 1819.

“And I have no doubt that every new example will succeed, as every past one has done, in shewing that religion & Govt will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together.”

James Madison in a letter to Edward Livingston, July 10, 1822.

“Every new and successful example of a perfect separation between ecclesiastical and civil matters is of importance.”

James Madison, 1822.

“When a religion is good, I conceive it will support itself; and when it does not support itself, and God does not take care to support it so that its professors are obligated to call for help of the civil power, it’s a sign, I apprehend, of its being a bad one.”

Benjamin Franklin in a letter to Richard Price, October 9, 1780.

“As I understand the Christian religion, it was, and is, a revelation. But how has it happened that millions of fables, tales, legends, have been blended with both Jewish and Christian revelation that have made them the most bloody religion that ever existed?”

John Adams in a letter to F.A. Van der Kamp, Dec. 27, 1816.

“What influence, in fact, have ecclesiastical establishments had on society? In some instances they have been seen to erect a spiritual tyranny on the ruins of the civil authority; on many instances they have been seen upholding the thrones of political tyranny; in no instance have they been the guardians of the liberties of the people. Rulers who wish to subvert the public liberty may have found an established clergy convenient auxiliaries. A just government, instituted to secure and perpetuate it, needs them not.”

James Madison in “A Memorial and Remonstrance”, 1785.

“Congress has no power to make any religious establishments.”

Roger Sherman, Congress, August 19, 1789.

“We have abundant reason to rejoice that in this Land the light of truth and reason has triumphed over the power of bigotry and superstition. In this enlightened Age and in this Land of equal liberty it is our boast, that a man’s religious tenets will not forfeit the protection of the Laws, nor deprive him of the right of attaining and holding the highest Offices that are known in the United States.”

George Washington in a letter to the members of the New Church in Baltimore, January 27, 1793.

“This would be the best of all possible worlds, if there were no religion in it.”

John Adams.

“Christianity neither is, nor ever was a part of the common law.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Dr. Thomas Cooper, February 10, 1814.

“Ecclesiastical establishments tend to great ignorance and corruption, all of which facilitate the execution of mischievous projects.”

James Madison.

“The purpose of separation of church and state is to keep forever from these shores the ceaseless strife that has soaked the soil of Europe in blood for centuries.”

James Madison in an 1803 letter.

”I am for freedom of religion and against all maneuvers to bring about a legal ascendancy of one sect over another.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Elbridge Gerry, January 26, 1799.

“Of all the tyrannies that affect mankind, tyranny in religion is the worst.”

Thomas Paine.

“I wish [Christianity] were more productive of good works … I mean real good works … not holy-day keeping, sermon-hearing … or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments despised by wise men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity.”

Benjamin Franklin in Works, Vol. VII, p. 75.