#Double the chaos and fun more like QUADRUPLE the chaos and fun

[a-not-so-sure-artist]

WAIT I GOTTA SHARE SOMETHING WITH U GUYS REAL QUICK HOLD ON!!

Okay now that I have your attention hear me out

Just hear me out for like two seconds I promise it’ll be interesting

What if

What if they collabed with

With THEM 👀👀

[phobiaoftickles]

Older brothers Vs. younger brothers

Summary: I accutally don’t have anything for this.

“Oh please, everyone knows older brothers are better at tickling their younger brothers.” Raph piped up, after Mikey was talking about him and Donnie were the better lers. Against Donatello’s will.

The purple turtle was just minding his business, creating a new tech, until he heard his fellow youngest brother say something about tickling. In Donnie’s case, he hates being tickled, and anything that has to do with tickling, so does Leo, but he rather tickle people than be tickled. And if Michaleangelo mentions anything about tickling, he was obviously in a lee mood, or ler mood, whatever he wants.

Donnie didn’t want to join in, but he was forced to, because no matter how long he hides or where he hides, some turtle (Leo mostly) would catch him and tickle him to peices for not joining in the game. Leo wouldn’t want to join either if he was bad at being a ler, but he’s not, so he played along too, just to tickle a specific turtle who needs to be taken down a peg or two.

“Oh, yeah, Raph? I bet you and Leo don’t have anything on me and Donnie.” The orange ninja turtle put his arm around his older brother, patting Donnie’s chest.

“Uh, what? I didn’t say anything like that, don’t believe a word-“ The purple ninja turtle pushed him away, only to be interrupted by Mikey.

“Yeah! In fact, we’re so confident that we can take you two on in a tickle fight! Winner gets served hand and feet for 2 months, while the losers have to do anything the winners say! We have our selves a deal?” Mikey put his arm out waiting for the oldest one to shake it, and he did.

“Oh, you bet we do. I’ll set a timer for 10 minutes, you guys hide, and we’ll seek, best man wins.” Raph borrowed Donnie’s phone and set a timer.

They all scattered like they just found out there were three more slices left of the pizza. It was chaos, but chaos that Mikey and Raph loves.

“Heheheh, this is fun don’t cha think, D?” Mikey snuck up behind him, startling the other.

“Mikey?! Wha-? Where did you-? Ugh, go some where else, I’m not trying to get caught.” He pushed the other, trying to take the hint.

“Why?! I love you, Donnie, trust bro, we won’t get caught.”

“Found you~.” They heard an all too familiar voice sounding behind them, it was their oldest brother, OF COURSE it was their oldest brother, he was always good at this game. This made Donnie run faster than before, Mikey was loosing him, then all of a sudden the purple brother heard the youngest one’s laughter. “Shit, he’s been caught.”

“Hahhahahahahah, Raph!! Plehehehheheehhease!!” Mikey tried, but not hard enought, to push the red’s hands away from his hips.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re not enjoying this. Everytime you initiate a tickle fight you’re always in a lee mood, dragging your other brother’s into it, shouldn’t this be your punishment? Knowing Donnie and Leo hates being tickled?” Raph obviously doesn’t care about that, but Mikey thought he meant every word, and teared up.

“I-I’m sorry… I should know better, huh? I should never had dragged them in it.”

Raph stopped his torment, leaned down and kissed his forehead, “Nonono, this is not your fault. And they know it, you’re in a lee mood and need help. Thank god your oldest brother is here to help you out!” He then tickled his inner thighs.

“Ahhahahahhhahhahahaah!!! Rhahahahahph!! Gahahahahhahahahaod.”

~Timeskip to Donnie and Leo~

Donnie was looking all around him, up, down, left, right, 90, 180, 360, his eyes were everywhere. Trying to find that little blue mask just gliding in the air. But he found nothing, so he thought he was jn the clear, until…

“Wow, D, I thought you would’ve hid better than that, not in plain sight. Did Mikey’s game ever teach you a lesson? Well, now I gotta teach you a lesson.” Where was he? Donnie scoped everywhere again, double, triple, quadruple, still none. And oh no, was Leo in a ler mood?! He fucking was. Just his luck, now he’s really gotta go. The thoughts in his mind stopped racing when Leo swooped down from the sewer’s cieling and pounced on his twin brother’s back.

“GaH!” Donnie plumpeted to the ground with a hard thud and a mischevious blue ninja turtle on his shell. Leo sat some what up to where he was croutching just to twist his little brother to where Leo was on his plastron.

They fought, and boy did Donnie put up a fight. He swung his free hand around to squeeze at his older brother’s side. “Ahhahahaha, Donnie, quhuhuhuit. It. So now you’re putting up a fight, huh?” Leo grabbed his arm, and pinned them both above his head. “No where to go, Dee, you’re stuck with me.”

“Come… come on.” Donnie choked up. “We can talk about this, right? You’re my older twin brother, we suppose to have each other’s backs. They call us the Disaster twins for a reason. What do you say? We tag team up and get Mikey and Raph, huh?”

“Ohhh, please. Would you quit your blabbering? I enjoy tickling you because you put up a fight, and you have the best reactions. So lay there and take the ticklessss.” Leo paused for a second to let Donnie plead his way out, then he struck.

“Nononono, Leo! Leon!!! Brother!!! Please don’t tickle me, I’m serious stop-“

“‘I’m serious, stop Leon!’ Hahaha, you’re pleads mean nothing to me.” And then he dove straight to the armpits.

Donnie arched his back, “SHIT! Stahahahahp! Stop! Leo! Plehehehehase!”

“No can do little brother, Me and Raph is gonna win this challenge, and there is NOTHING you can do about it.”

“Yohohohou guys always win! Whyhyhyhy can’t youhuhuhu give us a chahhahaahnce?” Donnie started withering around, trying in his power, to not stop fighting back.

“Well, I’m sorry, I’m not gonna let you tickle me, DonTron,” leo drilled into his ribs now.

“Ehehehexactly! Wehehehe can just forfeit, and nohohohobody has to get tihihihihickled!” The purple ninja turtle would lean to the opposite side of the blue ninja turtle’s finger, but then he would just retract his finger and go the direction Donnie was leaned too, and make it a pattern to where he was a floppy mess.

“Your just shit out of luck, huh? Because I’m in a ler mood, and I need somebody to help me.” Leo stopped tickling his younger brother, for now.

“Shit, I knew you fucking were! I should’ve just hung out with April today! Damn it! Stop! Leo! Fucking cut it out!” Donnie started writhering even more, arching his back, kicking his legs, trying to pull down his arms, but nothing seem to work. Leo placed both hands on either side of his hips and tapped on them, like he was waiting for something.

Donnie looked down, and he realized he was fucked, pretty bad. “No! Please… please, Leo! Not there, I’m begging you. I’m actually serious right now.”

He looked down at the wriggily mess, and laughed. “Umm, A. This is not your worst spot, it’s your shell, but I’m not a dick so I’m not gonna tickle you there. And 2. … actually I have nothing, so I’m just gonna tickle you.” And he did.

Then, Donnie’s hips being his second worst spot, made his brain click, Donnie had his extended arms he can extend out of his shell, so he’s gotta use it to survive, right? And no brother of his will tell him it’s cheating, it’s a defense mode of course.

Leo realized what Donnie was doing, and started to panick. “Donnie! Put your metal arms away right NOW!!” He screamed as he was picked up in the air by his arms stretched above his head. “NO! PLEASE!! TRUCE?! PLEASE TRUCE ME DONNIE!! I WON’T EVER TICKLE YOU EVER AGAIN!! I PROMISE!! STOP!”

“Sorry dear brother, a turtle’s gotta do what a turtle’s gotta do, am I right Leon?”Donnie’s other arms tickled at his sides, ribs, stomach, thighs, armpits, neck. I mean they were everywhere on this poor teen.

“AHAHHAHAHAAHAH STOP DONNIE PLEASE!! THIHIHIHIS IS CHEHEHEHEATING!! RAHAHHAHAHAPH!! RAPH COME HEHEHEHEHELP ME OUT!! DOHOHONNIE’S CHEATING!”

“Alls fair in a game of tickles.”

Did the little brothers win? Or did the older brothers win? We’ll never know. What we do know was, Raph in fact did not help Leo in his struggles, and Donnie got his revenge.

[icantkeepplantsalive]

My favorite headcannon-

So we all agree that Bernard would have a popular YouTube channel or Reddit where he posts his theory’s, right?

When Tim is pissed off at his family he makes up his own theory’s about them and tells Bernard- and Bernard obsesses and it spirals and soon everyone’s pissed off EXCEPT Tim

And even if he doesn’t beleive Tim or doesn’t post about it the bats all live in fear that he WILL and Tim revels in the chaos

Dick- *pisses Tim off for the third time this week because he’s bored*

Tim- *on the phone with Dick* Hey babe?

Bernard- Yes love?

Tim- you know, I’ve been thinking about it for a while- do you think Nightwing has a stunt double?

Bernard- what?

Dick- WHAT?!

Tim- I mean, we’ve all seen him do all those flips and tricks on the rooftop, but I’ve never seen it while he’s actually fighting.

Dick- TIM

Tim- What if there’s two? One who parkours and does all the tricks and one who actually fights crime?

Bernard- okay, but why would they do that?

Tim- maybe it’s a way to suprise criminals? If they think Nightwings showing off downtown they’ll feel safe doing somthing shifty on the other side of town, and then BAM- the other one shows up! Or another Bat! It’s a way to lil criminals into a false sense of security, Nightwing can’t actually do any of those tricks! It’s a body double!

Bernard- IT ALL MAKES SENSE!!

Dick- TIMOTHY JACKSON

(It spirals from their. Bernard posts a video and every hero ever sends a link of it to Dick. ((Bernard beleives Nightwings body double is Richard Grayson- who works part time at Gothams Gymnasium teaching acrobatics- who ELSE knows how to do a quadruple flip and he always seems to disappear when somthing bass going on in Gotham(((Tim CHOKES when Bernard tells him))) but he doesn’t post that part to protect him)) )

Jason- exists to piss of Tim*

Tim- stares him dead in the eye, pulls out his phone and calls his boyfriend*

Bernard- hey-

Tim- Bernard! You’ll never guess what I saw!

Bernard- wha-

Tim- Red Hood and Nightwing were kissing! And it looked like Red Hood proposed! They must’ve been together for years!

Bernard- oh my god! It makes so much sense!!

Bernard- later that night- what happened to you?

Tim- still grinning- I got kneecapped by Hood

Bernard- aww, maybe Nightwing said no

Damian- admit your faults, Drake, you are unworthy and unwanted-

Tim- *wordlessly pulls out his phone and calls Bernard

Bernard- Hey babe!

Tim- so I have a theory- you know how everyone thinks there have been like- five, six robins?

Bernard- yeaaaaah?

Tim- what if there’s just the one? And Batman de-ages them when they get to old? I mean, he does have access to alien tech, right

Bernard- they all look different?

Tim- side effect of alien tech knowledgey maybe? Maybe that’s why they keep getting SHORTER

Damian- accept your demise, Drake! *activly trying to kill Tim

Tim- *laughing

Bernard-*hangs up

Even after Bernard KNOWS they kee doing it, and Bernard does it way more often then Tim. Specifically when they’re being mean to his boyfriend. “Damian needed to be put in his place! He had no right to say that to you!” “Bruce KNOWS your swamped, he can handle his own shit or I will make him.” “If dick doesn’t want to SAY sorry than I will MAKE him sorry”

Bernard’s favorite thing to do is pair the boy boys together or with different hero’s or criminals. His biggest hit was an hour long video explaining the long history and love square between Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Batman, and Superman he made when Bruce made Tim cry

**it’s all in good fun and everybody loves each other in my world because I ship the Batboysxhappinessandoverfourhoursofsleep

[efoxkitty]

Alright, with the first demised, let's start a game I like to call "Life or Death" (feel free to suggest a cooler name)

You can either @ someone or join in the chain. Below is a list of people who made it to week 8 and you need to say why you want them to win AND how you would like to see them die.

Let's create some cool theories, headcannons and angst :3

I'll start:

The rebels:

Scott

Win: I want to see Scott go absolutely feral. The widow takes all the oppoturnities to avenge his husband and still manages to come out on top to claim the title of survivor. The win for the gays!

Loss: I want Martyn to be the one to kill Scott. They were THE chaos duo, allies since day one and even made a potion monopoly together. The angst here is big. Especially considering that indirectly it would be Jimmy's fault, as he was the one to break this friendship.

Grian

Win: Grian deserves to win just for all the traps he tried to set up and failed /j The person who indebted themselves and died when it was too late and couldn't get out, the person with the highest kill count and the most activated tnt stats does deserve to win for all that effort + keeping Scar alive.

Loss: Being killed by Scar. Like just this one time, Scar actually wants to kill/has to kill and kills his old buddy. Or dying to Scott or Martyn, so we know who was the best green out of the red/green duos /j Dying to a fellow blue sword is the real angst :)

Scar

Win: Okay but imagine Scar, the person who everyone expected to die first. The one who was the first yellow AND red would be the last one alive. Also I stand by the headcannon Scar has intimidating aura, which is why he survives his encounters.

Loss: The obvious angsty one is being killed by Grian or his trap. But I do vibe with the idea of Scar being killed by Bdubs, who angrily lays his body in the coffins infront of the crastle >:)

Or Scar being killed by Tango. But like seriously, Tango is probably the only person outside of the rebels, who Scar genuinely cares for. And Tango could get revenge for week 6, where Scar nearly blew Tango up.

The crastle:

Tango

Win: His double, triple, quadruple agent saga was the funniest arc I've seen and I believe the wandering traitor would deserve to win, especially if him winning that Bdubs, who was the reason he died in the first place, would die. Even more justice for our boy. It would also prove the theory that being with everyone at once IS the key to victory.

Loss: Being killed by Scar. For the reasons I stated before. Or murdered by Bdubs again. Most angst potentional would be dying to impulse OR Etho, considering they had their day 1 alliance and the wool castle arrangement :) Friendship is dead.

Impulse

Win: Impulse "Be friends with everyone" strategy will be proven superior. With an army of villigers, not only has supplies for himself, but armed others for war, so they would feel confident fighting each other. He watched his allies get slaughtered and did nothing to stop it :)

Loss: Traitors get executed :) Dying to anyone from the red army for obviois reasons. Also to Tango (Revenge for his emerald execution) or Etho, again for the wool castle allignement angst.

Bdubs

Win: The guy who was being made fun of for building a small castle that looks like a toilet and has holes in it proves to be the superior builder as he builds an unbreakable fortress. He wins this one for Cleo.

Loss: Dying to Scar so Scar be like "Good thing he bought those coffins." Or to Tango or Impulse, betrayed by the only people he had left. By the people Cleo warned him about and he told her it would be fine :)

The red army

Ren

Win: The red king proves his rp is very cool and poggers and not cringe and lame like his enemies proclaim! He will lead his army and raise to the top, becoming an eternal emperor. Why be a dog, when you can be a god?

Loss: Lissen, I know it's been said already, but Ren getting betrayed by Martyn 👀 I would love to see that. Or even Etho, who would ditch them for his wool castle buddies, oh boy.

Martyn

Win: The right-hand man becomes the ruler. The king is dead, long live the king. From a simple peasant boy bringing chaos and phantoms wherever he goes, to the most powerful man on the server. Character progression is very cool :)

Loss: Dying as he protects his king from certain death. Or being killed by Scott. OG chaotic duo, I am still not over you being enemies.

Etho

Win: They burned down his tree and kicked off his villain arc. He decided to confirm the rumours about him being the hidden anime protagonist and by the power of missiles and alliances rose to the top as the lone wolf of the group.

Loss: Betrayal from the OG village folk. They build not one, but two homes together and even after all their promises and meeting, they chose to murder him. Forever abandoned :(

BigB

Win: I really like the meme that's going around of "BigB wins by doing nothing." He would win by being in the shadows and staying loyal and honestly, what an icon.

Loss: Dying to either Grian or Martyn for the "Blue sword alliance." Less sadser death: BigB tragically dies saving his cookie for the last time 07

The wildcard:

Joel

Win: Joel saying "I can choose who I will betray." manifesting again, as people fall once again for his empty promises and he watches them all crash and burn. Once again proving that chosing sides is pointless (another Ranboo kinnie /j) and choosing people is overrated. Direct contrast to BigB's strategy. Chaotic arsonist my beloved <3

Loss: I have 2 ways for this one. First is dying to any of the people he betrayed after actually allying with a faction. The second one is dying to Scott specificaly as he tries to assasinate him once again and fails for the second time xD

@pastelicious-nova You don't have to do this kiki, but I would love to hear your thoughs <3

[stonebrick-silverfish]

green!Martyn and red!Ren ficlet in my life-heart au based on recent events :)

Ren went red like, a couple hours back which. It was unpleasant. A test of loyalty. Ren said it was for himself, but watching his corpse dissolve, knowing that Martyn had done that, had killed his king, had eld the axe and driven it down into Reb’s skull, again and again until, well. It was evidence that Martyn would do anything his king decreed, is what it was. But! Murder’s now an option on the table for the King of Dogwarts, and by extension his loyal Hand, so Martyn’s not gonna linger on the bloody details. Ren doesn’t seem like he’ll turn on Martyn any time soon, what with how Martyn’s been sticking by him for the past forever. And now that murder and destruction are on the table, its time to get a pound of flesh back from Monopoly Mountain- which is a really weird sentence, come to think about it. And gross. Do mountains have flesh? Would the sand be considered the flesh of the mountain? He should totally steal some sand while he’s over there, that’d be the real insult to injury. Distantly, he can tell that Ren is upset about something. Maybe something’s going on back at Dogwarts, should he turn around? No, no he’s come this far. He can see the light of the lava ‘moat’ around the edges of the desert.

Wait. Hold on one second. How did he..? Martyn unslings his bag and looks *hard* at the lives pinned there. Two of them are his, both green and beating slowly. One is red, Ren’s final life. They’d swapped them after Ren died for the second time. Or, well, Ren had pushed his red heart into Martyn’s hands, saying, “I trust you more than I trust me right now, man, I’ve seen what the other red-lifers are like and I’m not a fan of that life for the Grim-diggity-dog.” And Martyn, not to be outdone, had unpinned one of his lives and handed it over. “A show of my total faith, m’lord,” he’d said, overemphasizing his accent, “I know you’ll watch over it with as much care as I will yours.” Ren had smiled, then. “This pleases me. Onwards! To new horizons and to revenge!”

Which is why Martyn was headed to the desert in the first place. Another surge of worry- not his worry, Ren’s, and it feels like, like the aftertaste of an emotion, no, no wait it feels like a worry-flavored Lacroix would- hits him, and on instinct he grabs Ren’s life-heart and immediately the feeling sharpens. And then it’s doubled, then quadrupled and it’s like Worry Lacroix in a endless mirror room which is where the metaphor collapses but Martyn can’t think of a better one because he’s so concerned. He can feel Ren’s worry turn to panic, then fear, and it drags along his emotions until he feels, distantly, Ren pull himself together. He has total faith in Martyn, whatever this is Martyn will figure it out and he’ll come back safe, and fine, and won’t leave him alone. Martyn unclenches his hand finger by finger, from where it seized shut around Ren’s last heart.

The sensation lessens. It’s ignorable now. There’s still an impression in the back of his mind of Ren’s faith and surety that everything will be fine, that Martyn will come back which. Is Ren holding his life-heart? Is that what this is? He hears footsteps and straightens, instantly. Grian pokes his head over the hill and grins. “Hello Martyn! Don’t suppose you’ve seen any- oh geez are you alright?”

“What? No no yeah I’m fine, why?”

“You look like you’ve been crying?”

“Well-“ Martyn blusters for a seconds before, “Not every day you kill your boss, yeah? I’m a bit broken up about that. Took a walk. Totally wasn’t coming over here for any other reason.”

Grian nods, smiling that yeah-bullshit smile he gets when he sees right through a bluff. “See any creepers on this walk of yours? I need more gunpowder.”

“Nah man. Try uh. Over by The Crastle? Trespass all over that patch of land. I’m absolutely positive that’ll end well for you.”

Grian snorts. “Yeah. Right. Well, have fun on your walk that totally doesn’t go anywhere near Monopoly Mountain, Martyn. I got me some gunpowder to grind.”

As he walks away, Martyn notices Grian’s lives are clipped to the hem of his sweater. They’re green but there’s only two.... Scar must have the third. Ren is worried in the back of Martyn’s mind, so he straightens up and decides to head back for the night. No use prolonging Ren’s misery when they have a weird emotion feedback loop to figure out. As he goes, he can’t help but think. Scar was a force of chaos from day one- what sort of effect would that have on someone if it was broadcasted directly into their head?

[twi-liight]

hi! can you please do hcs for muriel, portia and asra w/ an apprentice that is constantly chaotic all the time-- like, always doing dangerous and/or impulsive things for the thrill of it, with their magic or just shenanigans around vesuvia and how they'd react when they eventually get injured or in trouble? sorry if this is too open ended ! they/them pronouns pls btw 💞

Thank you for the ask~ apologies for how long this took me. I hope it was worth the wait!!!

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Asra feels a thrill of panic whenever they disappear into a crowd. Not because they’re prone to getting lost, but they’re prone for attracting trouble. To themselves or indirectly to others. There’s no workaround for this. Sometimes he just has to follow them and watch them do something wild and letting it ride out.

Is he worried? Of course. He lost them once already. That wasn’t their fault, the plague wrongfully took them, so he took them back. The idea of them in danger? He hates it. It puts a bitter taste in his mouth.

That’s not to say he that won’t join. Asra is closest to the Arcana that can represent mischief and wit; he loves a good harmless prank and fun shenanigans. So long as it’s harmless, or if some good-for-nothing idiot gets what they deserve.

It should be no surprise that when the apprentice gets seriously injured that Asra becomes fickle and panicky. Will do everything in his power to make sure they are okay, and if it’s something he cannot heal, he will bring them to Julian as fast as he can. Once they’re okay, once everything has been all said and done, expect him to scold them. Asra is so so patient with the apprentice but this is a line that they are crossing: why on earth would they purposefully put themselves in danger like that? Because it’s fun?

Give him a second. He needs to breathe.

Assure him that they’ll be more careful next time. He knows they’re bound to break that promise, but he feels better nonetheless.

There’s a saying that goes, “Trouble shared is trouble halved”. That is law in their relationship. Wherever they go, Portia and trouble follow. Except trouble isn’t halved. It’s doubled. Tripled….

Quadrupled.

People genuinely fear for their lives when the two of them are around. They’ve heard stories. One time, Portia and [F/N] were pregaming in Vesuvia and woke up in Nopal. There was that one time they said some pretty choice words to a bunch of mercenaries and Portia scared them off. How she did that, no one knows, but they ran with a tail between their legs and even sent the Countess an apology.

Nadia would ask the two of them to pipe the fuck down, but 1) she knows that she’d be asking for a lot, so she doesn’t bother and 2) it’s a good intimidation tactic, so… you know, why bother.

Everything is done in spades, then. It’s fun, it’s a thrill, and it’s a memory to share with the cutest girl in the world. The two of them can take a couple of bruises and scars, so it’s no big deal. Until they get really hurt, that is.

One day, they don’t come stumbling into Portia’s little cottage to tell her about their day at work. Weird, they would have told her beforehand, right? Oh well…

Imagine her surprise when one of the chamberlains has been sent to tell her that they broke their leg and how Julian has been treating to them in the palace. How it happened became a blur to her. Portia was already halfway out the door the moment their name and ‘broken leg’ was in the same sentence.

She’s angry. Sure, they do stupid shit together, but it’s stupid shit that isn’t borderline irresponsible. They’re an adult, they should know better! What the fuck did they even do, jump off a two story building for fun? Fuck off! Are you kidding her? Oh, they are so going to get an earful… The moment she sees them, she’ll… She’ll…

The moment she sees them, she bursts into tears.

“Are you okay?!” She blubbers, “a-are you okay? What are you, stupid? Going off like that and getting yourself hurt! You’re unbelievable!”

“I’m fine, Portia…”

She ignores that. She whips around to Julian and hisses, “Ilyushka, you better give them your best. Don’t you dare half-ass this unless you want to be the one on the bed, battered and broken.”

“Wh– Pasha, of course I will give them my best! I’m a little hurt you would think otherwise… But I know you. You’re just worried about your dear [F/N].” He leans over to [F/N] and whispers theatrically loudly on purpose, “Maybe it would be wise not to tell her that you were pushed and that’s how you broke your leg.”

Shit.

Julian grins.

And that’s the story of how Portia nearly went to jail.

Muriel finds the apprentice’s antics to be… endearing, sometimes. Seeing them grin widely before they jump off a cliff into a freezing cold lake? The loud whoop that leaves them, followed by laughter… Look, that’s not that bad. At least they’re safe. Anything that isn’t going to put them in danger and make them happy? Fine, whatever. He might even join their cliff-diving antics. What a treat for them. To see him surface the cold waters and rush his hand through his dark, wet hair… Nice.

Other antics, though? He’s going to have a panic attack. A magician as strong as them is a sight to see, but their power can be overwhelming sometimes. Summoning an entire yard of catnip that accidentally attracts not only hundreds of cats but other mythic beasts? Placing a stormcloud over someone’s head because they made a snide remark about him? Trying to see how many chilli chocolate cakes they can eat before they throw up? Climbing the palace walls all the way to the tippy top of the towers?????? For FUN????? He’s going to have a heart attack.

Thankfully, Muriel has had training™. He’s been friends with Asra for years. When he sees that glint of chaos in their eyes, he would gently grab the back of their shirt, shake his head, and grunt, “No”. Surprisingly, it’s very effective.

Some rando: [makes eye contact with Muriel and smirks]

Apprentice: ?????? you got a problem???

Muriel: [fuck]

Some rando: nothing i was just wondering why you decided to lower your standards and date this man

Apprentice:

Muriel:

If the apprentice gets seriously injured, he would be so worried. Muriel would drop everything to rush them to Julian. Yes, Julian. He thinks that man is fucking silly and weird but he can’t just stand by and let them succumb to pain. Muriel would be quiet the whole time, but he would listen intently to Julian’s instructions. When Julian leaves them alone, he would just give them a half-glare half-pout.

It’s adorable.

But even more devastatingly adorable, “Just… stop hurting yourself… Please?” And there’s a desperate gleam in his green eyes, peering into theirs. His voice is so soft, so unlike his gruff tone, and pleading. It’s very effective.

[purplepints]

I've seen several articles repeating a very important piece of info about numbers and perception of danger or infection due to the release by different countries and groups.

Since it's been recognized, South Korea has been testing people regardless of symptoms. Italy has been testing people with symptoms and the US has hardly been testing at all.

So when you hear any of the "There are X,000 confirmed cases and X deaths"-type announcements, realize that in many places around the world these are NOT the actual numbers. It is the number of people who have been tested & diagnosed positive (lab confirmed COVID-19) and not the actual number of people who have it. Not even close. They're likely not double or triple those numbers, either. It's probably at least quadruple at a bare minimum, with numbers skyrocketing in larger cities.

Just like so many other illnesses, people catch something and that illness starts to set up shop. It takes a bit of time for it to trigger our protections or otherwise draw attention to something being wrong. Before people are even feeling sick, they are already contagious and remain so until the viral load is too low to be a viable danger, which is normally after your symptoms are almost gone. This means you could be contagious for several weeks. This isn't odd, it's just how viruses work and you've likely had this same chain of events occur in your own body when you've caught something. We've all been ticking bombs, we just haven't carried this dangerous of a payload inside our cells before. That hang time where you feel fine but are spreading the disease is the scariest thing about contagious diseases of this type, and is why seclusion and quarantine measures are absolutely vital to halt the spread.

No one is immune to Covid-19.

There is no vaccine or preventative measure.

There is no anti-viral available for it.

It is devastating and it is deadly.

Until broad-scale testing is done and tests are being processed quickly, the number of people with COVID-19 can be estimated but not confirmed. I'm not saying this to make you fly into a panic, I'm saying it because we as humans tend to hear numbers first and think about what they actually respresent second, if at all. We have lagged behind in testing and the tests we did have were faulty, we dragged our heels on allowing additional qualified labs to assist with processing tests, and the information coming from our government covers the entire spectrum : accurate, inaccurate, partial, panicked, apathetic, dismissive, confusing, conflicting....it's not reassuring and it is glaringly obvious we are woefully unprepared. Our country is literally shutting down because we don't have other options.

In the US, our situation is, to put it mildly, a clusterfuck.

How so? Through a combination of things, some of which are:

- We are not testing anywhere as broadly as we should be.

- People are not being informed about the seriousness of COVID-19 (think it is same as flu, that young people can't catch it, that flu shots protect etc) and don't understand the difference between viruses and other types of infections.

- People do not understand how long it takes to identify new viruses, why some strains are different, why similar symptoms do not mean similar diseases, how fast viruses can mutate it adapt of how quickly that can be identified.

- People here don't always understand why different departments or sub-offices in departments can be absolutely vital to their lives, and so often don't notice or care when budgets are slashed, research is stopped, responsibilities shoved onto other already burdened departments, whatever. Not knowing how government works is a sad hallmark of American life and this is going to show us how bad this apathy really is.

- People see the number of departments & offices as bloated government spending, so rarely speak up when any are shut down or downsized.

- Large numbers of people in the USA ignore science, decades of information & factual conclusions and warnings of impact even if it can or does affect them personally.

- Large numbers of people in the US were unaware until very recently that the CDC was decimated by Trump specifically. The EPIDEMIC response division was completely eliminated.

- People in the USA in the whole don't understand how various agencies in the government work together or share information on collaborative projects, so when parts of the USDA were forced from Washington DC to Kansas City, it went unremarked upon and the hundreds of positions remaining unfilled in that department alone are a huge concern. Add in the short-staffing of other agencies and this mean that we may not be able to determine how current events can impact food security, transportation, storage or identify economic issues that farmers may face that relate to COVID-19.

- People are not following suggestions of self quarantine or avoidance, instead since they're off work/school /etc heading to places where hundreds+ mingle or to restaurants & bars where 5-10ft distance between people isn't really possible (not to mention the lack of handwashing, shared faucets, knobs, exits/entrance, soiled glasses & silverware, recycled air blah blah) and when all those places are shut down, we all know there will likely be groups who decide to throw parties or pop-up gatherings because they're bored or whatever, and the first time one of those gets busted by cops or National Guard in masks/gear there's going to be a wild few days.

- Different officials in different states have given different direction regarding actions toward COVID-19, with some pleading for everyone to stay home, period, while others were saying going out should be encouraged because....? Conflicting information creates chaos.

- Not grasping that the reason these precautions are implemented is to slow or halt spread of disease and to limit exposure to people who are at higher risk of dying and to help medical efforts (more sick Med personnel = less ability to treat the sick), because the frequently repeated soundbites & headlines are variants on "old and sick people are at risk, everyone else will be fine". The longer it continues to spread among people means the more difficult it will be to stop long term and the more opportunity for it to mutate. Even if you recover just fine, if you were out spreading it, it is still active in the area, which means people who disregard precautions could catch it multiple times which lowers recovery chances, because young *and healthy* is the phrase, and if you just had COVID-19 for two weeks and fought it off, your immune system is tired and your body needs time to recover. Catching it within a few weeks of surviving it? You won't like those odds.

- In the US much of our culture, belief and ideals of value or worth are tied directly to our place in the work force. This is a line we have swallowed hook and sinker, to the point where it is commonly thought that workers in lower paying jobs or work that doesn't require a college degree are less of a person and less valuable that someone making more money. Now a gigantic amount of those employees are without jobs, and they will continue to be the first ones cut from payrolls, fired and unable to find new jobs because those jobs don't currently exist. Young or not, they can all be added to vulnerable groups because they don't have Healthcare, they don't have months of savings to buy food or pay bills, they may not qualify for unemployment or other assistance.

- We are not stressing that all diseases that spread in similar fashion are still active just like always, so it isn't just about COVID-19. People who catch diseases like regular a/b flu strains, streph throat, bronchitis, etc need doctors too, and those conditions being active mean more groups are put at risk if they catch a 'regular' illness which allows COVID-19 easier access, regardless of age. You can have more than one disease at a time!!

That's just the tip of the yikesberg, y'all.

To reiterate, anyone saying "well we only have like X,000 cases in the US" is wrong. We only have X,000 tested and officially confirmed cases, and we have not increased testing or taken efficient measures of seclusion or quarantine nor provided clear, direct information regarding what is happening. States are also putting out info conflicting with the Feds and other States, too and we are not moving fast enough to get the information we need to effectively head off the spread, contain areas and educate the population.

Again, when they do the math on these, diseases are given a specified number, an R0 sometimes heard or read as 'R-naught' (which can change, getting bigger or smaller depending) that is an estimated number of how many people a single person can infect others in an unprotected group. (ie, how many ppl can catch measles for a single patient in a world without vaccinations, which fun fact the measles R0 is 16+ depending on strain) and COVID-19 has been sitting around 2.3, which is higher than the Spanish Influenza of 1918 and over double the number of a standard modern flu strain. Going by this, it isn't really odd that lots of places are using visual representations of the old "would you rather have a million dollars or be given a penny on day 1 that doubles each day for thirty days?" thing, because 2 people infect 2 more each, then those 4 infect 2 each, and so on.

This is why quarantine and seclusion ate used against diseases we have no treatment for: It's the only way to stop it from continuing to spread. Last week, doctors in Seattle (on of the cities hit hardest at the start) were estimating over 1,100 cases in the city alone. Without being able to test and confirm, they had no hard numbers. This means a single city in a single county in a single state, likely had as many or more COVID-19 cases than what was reported as a national number for all 50 states off Federal numbers.

It also doesn't help that like many viruses, the asymptomatic incubation period of COVID-19 means that people who are contagious and spreading the virus are doing so for longer periods of time. On the far side, symptoms show at 10-14 days. Most patients will be contagious while not feeling noticible symptoms for 24-72hrs, thereby potentially exposing everyone around them during that time. This includes virus left on handrails, doorknobs, elevator buttons, ATMs, physical money, grocery items, you name it. If you aren't following basic hygienic protocol & precautions (washing hands thoroughly with soap for 20 seconds minimum frequently throughout the day, especially after using bathroom/touching public door handles, using handholds on public transport, after unbagging groceries, after exchanging money/using card machines, basically touching anything other people frequently touch), then first, somebody should talk to you about the bare minimums of hygiene expected in non-Pandemic times and two, whup your ass into a slightly more sympathetic and less germ-covered way of life.

SOAP & WATER / ALCOHOL

1) Use actual soap and water to wash your hands thoroughly for at least 20 seconds every time you use the restroom (FOR ANY REASON, EVEN IF CHECKING MAKEUP OR HAIR OR OTHER NON-TOILET USE), before you eat, after you eat, after using any sort of shared touchable object or being in close quarters to it, and if you're unsure if you should wash your hands GO WASH YOUR HANDS.

2) Hand sanitizer is NOT more effective than soap and water. PERIOD. They are also used in the same ineffective way so many people use soap and water: too small an amount, too short of a time and too lazy in coverage. Sanitizer should be applied in a dollop large enough to scrub both hands using motions and medium force as if washing with soap & water (front, back, between fingers, over nails & fingertips, both thumbs, webbing, the FULL HAND) for at least 20-30secs which is how long it should take for the sanitizer to evaporate. Amount used doesn't cover both hands fully? Use more. Hands dry after 8 second if scrubbing after putting dollop in palm? Not enough sanitizer used, add more and try again. Alcohol also may kill the virus, but it does not clean your hands and should never be used as a single or primary measure to avoid infection. Keep a bit on hand for those times when soap & water aren't readily available, use it correctly (dollop large enough to wet all surfaces of both hands, rub hands while being attentive to cover every part, hands should feel wet from the gel for 30+ seconds before they start to dry, because you are substituting the alcohol for water and essentially washing your hands with it!!

"Alcohol free" hand sanitizers are basically useless against most viruses and bacteria, including COVID-19. Hand sanitizers must be at least 60% alcohol to be effective, and many homemade concoctions suggest Vodka in their recipes, which is about worthless due to it being 40%. Others recommend 91-99% Isopropyl Alcohol aka 'rubbing alcohol' which can be even worse if the batch is made incorrectly, because it is easily absorbed by human skin and can cause damages leaving you more vulnerable to infections.

The same reason that alcohol works to kill viruses and bacteria is why it's able to damage human skin. It breaks down lipids (fats) and proteins. So called 'enveloped viruses' (COVID-19 in one) have a thin lipid membrane that they live inside and use to find and latch on to host cells. If that membrane is damaged, the virus has no way of feeling for nor attaching to possible host cells, so it dies.

Alcohol solvents being as successful as they are at breaking down lipids, you can imagine how it could hurt our lipids and protein heavy bodies. Using 90%+ isopropyl alcohol in a DIY could leave you with dry, damaged skin as well as cracks and fissures around your nailbeds. That damage is dangerous because your wet tissues and capillaries are now unprotected and vulnerable to viral attack. These types of alcohol can also be fussy with their high evaporative rates as well as interactions with other possible ingredients suggested by DIYers on line could cause many issues. Even compounding pharmacists and chemists are saying what a pain it is to make correctly! Not all Aloe Vera gels are pure aloe. Not all brands or types of gel or alcohol will work with such general, simplified recipes. Essential oils being added is a whole other thing that adds issues, because while a few can be used internally or in wounds with precautions, too many on the market today fail to clearly disclose their processes or full ingredients, are not meant for internal use (open wounds = internal) and like many supplements they are not regulated by the FDA so not tested or held to standard.

3) If you cough or sneeze, do so into a disposable tissue or napkin. DO IT EVERY TIME, not just with deep or phlegmy/productive ones. If air is being expelled forcefully from your throat, lungs or sinuses, have a clean tissue at the ready. After coughing/sneezing, dispose of the tissue in a trash can with a bag liner so the bag can be tied off before disposal which can help mitigate risk to people cleaning or collecting garbage. If you do not have a tissue/napkin, whatever, turn your head and nestle your exploding face hole(s) snugly into the inside bend of your elbow so any emissions are caught by the fabric. Using the same side if it happens repeatedly so you can keep that fabric close to you and avoid touching others with that area, rather than worrying about both arms. No sleeves? Pull up the collar if your shirt, tuck your face down a bit and hold the collar firm over the bridge of your nose and cheeks (similar to how your hands are when using a tissue) so anything coming out of your face is expelled between the shirt fabric and your body/inner layers. ** IF YOU USE THE ELBOW OR SHIRT TECHNIQUE DO NOT FORGET TO WASH YOUR FACE, NECK AND CHEST THOROUGHLY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE, just as you would your hands (20 sec+, soap & water).

[[Related tip: Carrying a ziploc-type bag with you allows you to tuck dirty tissues away while not smearing whatever all over your pockets or bag interiors, too. Those mini Doggie poop bag things that fit on Keychains or bags are another thing to keep with you, for your own tissues or wipes used to clean handles, or even as a 'glove' in a pinch and since they come in bundles you can share with others who need them.]]

So no matter how you slice it, people who have it are out in public spreading it for a day or two minimum. Young, healthy people who don't feel sick and aren't worried because they're likely to survive it are less concerned with the situation even while they are possibly infecting vulnerable groups. Again, the reason for the social distancing and quarantines is to stop the spread and lower risk for people who can and will die. The fewer people it can infect, the fewer can pass it on. The less interaction we have, the lesser the chance we catch and/or spread it. Right now, we here in the US still don't have but half an idea of an area that MAY have cases, because our government are a bunch of greedy fearmongering idiots who care about money more than people and about being right more than being aware.

So let me ask a question to the thousands of people are still going out at night, eating at restaurants, clubbing, calling ridesharing, resisting seclusion/quaratine and generally being completely selfish uncaring assholes: Should I save a seat in in the front row at my immunosuppressed sibs funeral or would you like your name engraved on a memorial bench slat for my diabetic, post-polio syndrome suffering Mum? I suppose at least that would have symmetry with her, as Americans starved her and didn't care if she lived or died as a child (being Indonesian/Javanese = an evil Jap to Americans then) so young Americans ignoring truths and not giving a shit about their actions potential killing her is pretty fucking disappointingly on brand. She could honestly, truly die with her first and last memories of Americans being blatantly uncaring of her life, mocking her fear, denying her help, and watching her family crying around her. Thanks for that, fellow Americans. (Oh, and if you did read the question, I mention a memorial bench because she's donating her body to science to help other people. Even in her death she gives more of a fuck about other people who are sick and need help than the majority of you assholes.)

Maybe that's too much, so lemme take it back a notch and use something less personal and less technical:

How about we say it's like a drunk driver in an armored HumVee speeding through a parade of golf carts.

The person in the HumVee thinks they're fine and puts a bunch of faith in their strong, durable vehicle and ability to control it, so aren't concerned about whatever obstacles arise. The golf carts, meanwhile, are also vehicles with engines and some manueravbility but minimum protection, and the people inside are basically out in the open.

The HumVee hits the carts and they are destroyed, the passengers hurt or killed, and the drunk dude in the HumVee is fine to trundle on to the next situation.

Healthy/young/wilfully ignorant people are currently behaving like that HumVee dude.

(and obviously I am not including people forced to work in order to not end up homeless as HumVee drivers here, this is pointed at people who are blowing off the situation, ignoring facts and being selfish)

—— Here's some info on what happened during the SARS pandemic, which COVID-19 is related to virally and the contagion spread similar, for anyone who is unfamiliar :

The SARS index patient in Hong Kong was a doctor who had treated SARS patients prior to heading to a family event. He did not think he had SARS, because even tho he had some symptoms, a chest x-ray he had done on himself was clear, so he traveled. He ended up infecting several people at the hotel he stayed at overnight, and more when he checked into the Hong Kong hospital. When he checked into the local hospital, more people were infected, including an American who was in a room on the same floor at the hospital. That American ended up feeling sick after leaving, so checked into a hospital in Hanoi. They shortly called in an infectious disease specialist (a WHO doctor in Bangkok) to the Hanoi hospital. He identified that this disease was an unknown new respitory virus, saw that several staff were already showing symptoms and made the call to warn the global community, giving the disease the tentative name of SARS. The WHO specialist, Dr. Urbani, he was a young, healthy Italian doctor, but he still died a month later.

The index patient (a respiratory specialist MD, in his 60s) in Hong Kong died, as did the American (a businessman, 48) who caught it from him, as did the WHO doctor (specialist, 46) who treated the American and others at the Hanoi hospital.

Dr. Liu, the one who traveled, was a super-spreader who is linked to the vast majority of Hong Kong SARS, between 75-92%.

The people who were infected at the hotel went on to travel and spread it to Canada (major hospital outbreak from 1 hotel guest), Taiwan, Singapore and Thailand.

This is the perfect example of why having people who may have COVID-19 enter hospitals is a BAD Idea and why having drive-through testing for it, like what was done in S. Korea, is a good idea.

Dr. Liu didn't just infect a handful of people at the hotel, he infected dozens of already sick, compromised people in a hospital, and also infected staff who died.

The Canadian woman from the hotel infected an assumed 100 people at the hospital she entered when arriving home.

This is why the self-quaratine and suggestions need to be taken seriously. Populations who are vulnerable and basically isolated from society because they are in hospitals or rest homes caught it because it was brought to them by a variety of sick people of different ages, health and severity. Sick young people went to hospitals and older people died. This is why everyone is being directed to call hotline before arriving at hospitals full of sick, vulnerable people.

I hope this helps develop a picture of why these quarantine and preventative measures should be taken seriously, and help you understand this example: Bob, a reasonably healthy guy in his 20s, develops a bit of a cough but blows it off as whatever, then goes out with his friends and gets on a train that several nurses who're going to work are on, he could infect them and they could go into work unknowingly carrying a death sentence for someone recovering from an organ transplant or a kid with a compromised immune system waiting for chemo.

Some of the groups that are on the fringes of society and rarely interact with larger groups are still at risk from secondary transmissions from the employees/staff/medical people that assist them. In high population areas or densely populated cities, even things like an apartment building shared laundry or residents-only gyms, common rooms, etc. are all possibly zones of contagion. Wash your goddamn hands, don't touch all the things around you like a child, and if your city has announced positive cases of COVID-19 please acknowledge that even if you have zero symptoms you could still be infected & contagious and take the necessary precautions along with abiding by the requests to not gather or whatever.

If you are young and healthy and get COVID-19, you may recover. The three people who caught it from you may recover. The five people they passed it to may not.

If you still have a job and are financially ok, consider taking the money you normally spend on your weekly bar visit with friends or Tuesday bingo or whatever the fuck and see if there are any groups or whatnot gathering up money/goods for restaurant, service and other workers who no longer have jobs rather than foolishly throwing middle fingers in the air while bitching about how inconvenient everything is because some old pepple may die or some sick or otherwise useless humans suffering or dying isn't something that makes it OK for your life to be messed with. You probably don't read the pleas from doctors around the globe, or the widows of healthy 30 year olds, or Type 1 diabetics being hit hard, or that this is 20X more deadly than any influenza, mild cases can still honeycomb your lungs and the US still hasn't started the testing we need to determine where it is, how fast it is moving, rates and types of transmission, severity, you name it, and the weakens the global effort because we can't provide other countries with information that could help save them from the fate China, Italy and now the USA will go through.

Want to save the world? Grow the fuck up and take yourself out of the possible patient pool, eat a snack, drink some water, take your meds, put on fresh underpants and breathe. Then get used to this new state of suckage, muster up some energy to vote and then maybe take another nap to recover a bit, because I can tell you none of this shit is ending tomorrow except my sliver of willingness to hold my tongue.

Buckle it up, assholes, those HumVees are coming, so let's work together to take them down like Betty White and Mark Hamill are in those carts and you're all that stands between them and certain death. Because....

Here's the worst of it all, youths : you actually are what stands between them and disaster, this is your reality now, so either educate, protect and defend each other because courage and compassion are worth it, or choose to be callous and cruel to each other until those traits kill you, too. If you're lucky, maybe that cruelty will kill you faster than all these fucking Boomers. If I'm lucky, it'll kill me before I have to be sandwiched between two groups who both will do The Most to win because fuck compromise or moderation or change or discovery and fuck science and tradition and casseroles and Boba tea and lord if if I have to go through four more fucking decades of it I'll burn it down my damn self.

This is it, buckaroos. It's the end of the world as we caused it, and I AM SO FUCKING FAR FROM FINE.

[whoisleft-rp]

A WAR ON FOUR FRONTS: THE QUADRUPLE ATTACK OF JULY 1977

This is a big one, y’all. Strap in.

THE BIG PICTURE

The war is upon the wizarding world, there’s no denying it, as much as the Ministry tries to brush it under the proverbial rug. It has always threatened to spill out into the muggle world, what with how close the two societies really are, even if it’s unknown to the muggles themselves. The attack on the muggle village near Hogsmeade was easily dismissed as rogue attackers, simply contained with a few memory erasing charms. It was a small town, in line with the other small attacks happening throughout the United Kingdom. It wasn’t  London, it wasn’t anywhere important.

Tonight, it was London. Wizarding and Muggle.

It seemed as though the Death Eaters were relatively quiet for a while, carrying out precision strikes and contained acts of terror when it suited them best. Their newly strengthened ranks, topped up with recent Hogwarts alums and new imports from other countries starting to hear more and more whispers of the man named Voldemort, kept to themselves. Training. Waiting for their next big moment, whenever their Dark Lord deemed it time to pounce.

The strikes carried out on London began at precisely half past 8PM, during a busy summer evening. Diagon Alley was packed full of restaurant (and pub) seekers and shoppers alike, the Ministry of Magic was still bustling with late night workers filtering in and out of the massive building, St. Mungo’s full of patients, healers, family members alike, some recovering from illnesses or even attacks from the weeks previous. Piccadilly Circus, that lively heart of Muggle West London, was sparkling and alive with musicians, street performers, and the typical busy London crowd.

An explosion outside the Ministry. A pack of werewolves, two nights short of a full moon and blindly following their leader, Fenrir Greyback, spilling onto the streets of Diagon Alley. A coordinated infiltration of St. Mungo’s, Death Eaters in uniform and civilian clothes alike searching for something, or someone. And an all-out show of havoc and chaos in the middle of an unsuspecting night of Muggle entertainment, spells and curses bouncing every which way.

THE HIGHLIGHTS

There were four attacks in four separate locations, in order to cause maximum damage. Here is what happened in each locality:

St. Mungo's Hospital For Magical Maladies And Injuries

The Death Eaters, some masked and some more under the radar, entered the hospital: spells used to incapacitate, not kill, were mainly being employed, mostly to promote chaos and panic as the hidden followers of the Dark Lord made their way toward the apothecary section of the hospital.

Potions and potion ingredients were stolen in mass quantities, some simply broken, along with a fair amount of the hospital’s secured storage of blood for various medical and research purposes.

A famous current patient, Alonso Smethwyck, was being held in a private wing - The Black Wing, no less - on the top floor. Smethwyck, a popular author and radio personality, had been making waves as a vocal proponent of muggleborn integration, and many suspect that his recent hospitalization had been caused by a none-too-subtle attempt at poisoning to shut him up. The masked Death Eaters left a path of chaos and injuries on their way up to his room, where his current fate is unknown.

Diagon Alley

The Death Eaters were not alone for this raid - they were accompanied by none other than Death Eater hopeful Fenrir Greyback and (most of) his pack of rabid werewolves. Despite the fact that the full moon is still a few nights away, these werewolves take pride in their round-the-calendar dedication to all things lupine and savage. Their teeth are filed to sharp points, their nails are grown out long, and they’ve been trained, by Greyback and society’s attitude itself, to hate the wizarding world that turned its back upon them.

Several powerful Death Eaters, dressed in their normal every day robes, joined in the chaos and panic of the crowds - only to magically block the barrier between Diagon Alley and Muggle London. It wasn’t particularly hard in the mass hysteria with enough people pushing and shoving anyway;  while witches and wizards could apparate away it’s not the preferred method of transportation for many, so the crowds would be pushing towards shops and houses with floo capabilities, or simply pushing until the barrier broke and they could escape the bloodthirsty attackers.

There are bodies on the ground, families being separated: this is an attack to distract the Aurors from the  Ministry of Magic and Saint Mungo’s as much as possible, but it is dangerous.

There is also the problem of being unable to move: apparation has been disabled for the time being, thanks to some tricky Charms work, and the barrier between muggle London and Diagon Alley has been disabled for the time being. This typically safe haven has been turned into a lock box and that can only have poor implications.

The Ministry of Magic

The Ministry was a predictable target and has been a goal of the Death Eaters for a long time now. Thanks to some well-placed inside sources, the defensive spells proved to be no trouble to blow past. Masked Death Eaters took the building quickly, who made beelines for prominent offices and to block the exits.

Just like Diagon Alley, the human Death Eaters weren’t alone–– some werewolves dedicated to the cause of destruction tagged along, with an agenda of their own. They cut a clear path to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and made quick work of destroying the werewolf registry.

Because the defenses were breached so easily, the Ministry defaulted to its backup plan: a lockdown. Although masked assailants and werewolves are still in the building and actively causing destruction, the Ministry is trying to handle the chaos with their usual brand of ineffective bureaucracy. They’re asking for work badges and identification from anyone passing, corralling them into ineffective lines and detaining anyone who can’t prove that they’re an innocent employee on the spot.

Piccadilly Circus

Ah, muggle London. Near enough to Diagon Alley, but decidedly non-magical, so they shouldn’t have anything to worry about, right? Wrong. 

The Death Eaters have grown tired of only torturing and frightening their own; they’re ready to exercise control over what they deem to be the weaker class of people. The chaos has bubbled over into the popular tourist-dotted square, with double decker busses knocked over and unfamiliar sparks flying through the air.

There is no subtlety being exercised here–– destruction is the name of the game, and the Death Eaters are sick and tired of hiding it. They’re firing at will, on wizards and muggles alike. This attack is less concentrated than the others, since it’s chaos for chaos’s sake...but that makes it all the more dangerous.

The nearby entrance to Diagon Alley has been sealed off; even those who can make it to the Leaky Cauldron in time won’t be able to make it through the familiar brick barrier, or get to those on the other side trying to get out.

THE RULES

At the bottom, all of your characters have been split up into the four locations that were attacked. It’s up to you to decide why they were in those locations and what happens to them during the attack. You can also write self-paras, etc. 

Interact and plot with the other characters in your groups. These are the people your character has been thrown together with in the blind chaos. We encourage you to have fun with this event: all current characters are now sixth years and above, more than capable of engaging in a bit of dueling or trying to help other bystanders out of the fray… or, depending on who your character is, joining in the fun.

We will be posting a Part Two of this event that takes place immediately after the attacks end, or at least start getting wrapped up - at that point you may post more open starters and plot with the people in other groups and move your characters around the chosen locations for the fallout. This event is DURING the attack itself, so feel free to really get into the fray.

Use the tag WhoIsLeftAttack for starters taking place during the attack, as well as WhoIsLeftMungo, WhoIsLeftDiagon, WhoIsLeftPiccadilly, or WhoIsLeftMinistry for each of the specific locations!

Starters can be posted between now and 11:59pm on Wednesday, November 22nd. We know people are busy/in and out of hiatus, so we wanna give everyone enough time to plot and throw starters up!

As always, please remember to reply to already posted starters as well as writing your own!

THE GROUPS

HOSPITAL

Andromeda Black

Ted Tonks

Bellatrix Black

Davey Gudgeon

Evan Rosier

Simone Selwyn

DIAGON ALLEY

Mundungus Fletcher

Lucinda Talkalot

Rodolphus Lestrange

Galvin Gudgeon

Alecto Carrow

Diana Greengrass

Rabastan Lestrange

Marlene McKinnon

MINISTRY

Sirius Black

Narcissa Black

Davina Minchum

Antonin Dolohov

Emma Vanity

Benjy Fenwick

Ava Avery

PICCADILLY CIRCUS

Remus Lupin

Mary Macdonald

Gladys Gudgeon

Charity Burbage

Regulus Black

Dorcas Meadowes

Lily Evans

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 8 aka “Here comes the sun”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

“Day 4 everybody! The sun is shining, the tree’s a sun, and it’s time to start a new- 

*gasp* the tree’s a sun

THE TREE’S A SUN

*wicked witch voice* ITS MEEEEELTING

oh very funny tellyman

and i SWEAR TO GOD if this is some kind of sick  FORESHADOWING where Hero and RGB get separated and don’t appear on the same pages as each other-

oh hey i didn’t notice the Deer on this panel; RGB’s hanging onto its ear

So if the tree was sick and it’s also the heart of the sun... could we say the tree had heart disease?

ok and it also turns out that the whole deer thing is because ‘hart’ is another term for them so could we ALSO say that the tree is a heart of harts?

Izzit me or does Assok’s speech here have greeny-yellow mixed in there? …TOby???

The entire look of the tree and RGB doing a slip’n’slide on it implies a very... meaty texture to me so uh congrats mod thanks i hate it

OH FUC I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THIS REMINDS OF

MOTHERFUCKING MEAT CIRCUS AAAAAAAAA-

This entire page is huge fucking mood. That’s me @the world in my head every time I’m about to do something Stupid n’ Sketchy™

its also the first time we see the frankly DELIGHTFUL dynamic of RGB being like “oh god oh fuck why” and Hero going “YEEEEEEEAAA”. Hero loves rollercoasters and RGB won’t be dragged on one for anything less than certain death otherwise. 

LOOKIT that big grin. she seems to smile WAY more in the latter half of the current comic and honestly. Yes. we need more of that

Oh deer. What a staggering outcome. Guess we’re getting right to the hart of the matter huh.

So RGB asks how Hero knew it was sick, and the answer was it had no leaves- the tree’s by the Pool of Tears in chapter 2 during the daytime didn’t have leaves either, but began to grow more near the end of it- are those tree’s sickened as well? OH- this could explain why the Fears were able to wander around in such a forested area

Have to wonder… tree’s are powerful. What could stop one from dreaming like that?

OH. OF COURSE. RGB’s already given us the answer- Nothing. The gooey stuff that was coating the tree, the [-----], is just another form of Nothing! Even more damningly, biting through the strand so the sun could balloon away renders Hero’s tongue temporarily numb. 

“You didn’t swallow any did you”- oh motherfucker that’s foreshadowing to when Hero really does accidentally swallow Nothing in the Elastic Valley storm, which erodes her voice from black text to white

So the next question is why did the [-----] melt so SUDDENLY? Black was left behind from Hero’s Fun Impalement Adventure, which smacks far more of Fear stuff than dream/nightmare residue, both of which are colorful, yet Dreams have the healing properties and Hero dreaming in the tree may have even helped the thawing

going on the assumption black = Fear shenanigans, have we found something stronger than Nothing? is this- oh come on. is this a rock-paper-scissors scenario?

Nothing beats Trees, Trees beat Fears, Fears beat Nothing?

on that note I should point out that Hero’s night of rest and dreaming has indeed closed back up her schism

absolutely everybody: how the FUCK did that DUMBASS-

and like they all know it’s THAT dumbass. they all look at the BULLSHIT happening in the sky and say “i don’t know how but i KNOW RGB is in the thick of that nonsense”

RGB rekted counter = 4

and promptly rekted yet again (5)

Ok, we confirm that [-----] is an insulator- a weaker form of Nothing, then. Not enough to destroy the sun-tree, but definitely enough to encase, sicken, and weaken it.

K but [------] as censorship, anyone?

!! Assok’s voice is numb too. How did I miss this bit of the story, did I just skim over it last time? Assok’s voice is the way it is because it’s numb, it could only have gotten numb by chomping on [-----], Assok came out of a crack in the [-----] to investigate Hero’s crying... my god

im such a dummy i finally get it. Assok’s been chipping away at the [-----] trying to keep the sun alive

kids are honestly such little shits; mod really nails this aspect of Hero directly on the head

truly they are made for each other- one shit kid and one bastard man.

OH OKAY I thought Assok threw themselves at RGB’s face in retaliation for yelling at Hero for essentially tazing him but that’s not it- its STATIC CLING

And tally that 6 for the RGB ‘slapstick-comedy Bad Man gets thrown around’ counter

ITS JULIENNE! Aint NOBODY got ANYTHING on her KNIFE FEET

fuckin. the sound effects. step+stab = stap. amazing

bruh i love her speech. i look at it and i taste cherry chocolate. even the shards around the boxes and that haphazardly make speech tails looks like chocolate shavings

Julienne and Melody’s designs are both INCREDIBLE tbh. julienne and click are probably my favorites out of the entire cast. you look at them and you INSTANTLY what they are about

and yet there are surprises

...... shitpost idea

and the candyfloss poke at my head, no fun! i said Julienne- mmgh!- stop it now

RGB looks like he has wings this entire page and I think that’s beautiful. the entire ‘fight scene’ between him and Julienne is utterly fantastic

Hero just calmly going fishing. Serenely stares down the knife Julienne tries to stab through her upon Jules realizes RGB’s gone and kidnapped ANOTHER WHOLE KID but relenting the INSTANT Hero says hello, pats, and flatters her

this chapter is really delivering on the “RGB gets slammed around” aspect of my TPoH enjoyment. I didn’t think we’d hit double digits this quick but that makes 10

Melody, bass-boosted: MY WIFE

as a musician i adore Melody with my entire being and i would die for her. every time i read her FORTE i’m assaulted with the auditory memory of myself and the rest of the trumpet section seeing a “triple forte” note written in our music sheets and as one blasting it in exactly the way the composer surely intended: discordant chaos

aaaaa her foghorn blast includes sheet music in the background!! i wonder from what piece

her speechbubbles be yellow, with short, stout tails and a circular box

is there anything better than seeing just the barest hint of Hero at the top of one panel before she slams into RGB in the next?

Assok’s QUADRUPLE FORTE on the other hand sounds like 50 CHILDREN SCREAMING THEIR OWN COMMENTS AT ONCE FOR A SOLID THIRTY SECONDS

it’s all stuff we’ve heard before looks like: “snice”, “koh ping”, “eediotic”, “damninably frah ghile”, “j ustryin toolwek affrew”, “justav to trusttmi”

dsvjkfkfhh- special fuckin shoutout to “AI DOOHAIT TOOHAFF TORAIMSMA VOYCE” for being the ONE thing in all caps aka the time RGB, uh, raised his voice

join me next time for some QUALITY DUNKING ON RGB. just absolutely roasting him

[quillerqueen]

Down In Yon Forest

Alone in the world though Regina may be, she doesn’t have to spend Yuletide season all by herself.

 But she’s chosen to.

 Yule morning wakes her with the gentle drizzle of fog, glittery particles drifting in and chilling her cheeks peeking from the furs pulled all the way up to her chin. Her little burrow is cosy if not outright warm, but she can tell it will be crisp and cool outside, just as it’s been the past few days. Today’s going to be a busy day for Regina, she’ll make sure of that—no time to dwell on useless, sentimental nonsense such as the lack of friends and family to burn the Yule log with. Regina slips from beneath the blankets and into the fuzzy vest, grabs two apples and a slice of stale bread from her small and pitifully empty pantry, dons gloves, bow and arrow, and steps outside her rustic abode.

 The willow forest gleams in the weak winter sun, wisps and clouds of fog hanging suspended low over the ground, a lazily shifting mass that lends her little nook of the forest a half eerie, half ethereal ambiance. Tiny droplets and crystals of ice float in the scant rays, and perhaps she’d stand in wonder at such a sight if not for the brazen frost pinching her cheeks and creeping beneath her skin the longer she stands still.

 Off Regina goes then, bypassing the trigger of the falling log and the pit trap concealed under the cedar tree, never bothering to watch for animal tracks the hard, frozen forest floor won’t be marked with. Her snares yield a single rabbit, and well, it won’t be the first time she goes without substantial dinner—at least that orphaned brother-sister duo new to the village won’t have to go without. They’re already up and about, diligent as ever by the time she sneaks up to their window and coaxes it open enough to deposit the modest catch on the windowsill. They’ll know it’s from her anyway, it’s not the first time she’s contributed to keeping the children fed and watered, but she leaves unseen all the same with just a touch of guilt and regret she knows would only grow with another imminent invitation to share in tonight’s festivities with them.

 An invitation she would have to decline, just like she had all the rest before them made by a grateful widow here, a poor and numerous peasant family there. Only yesterday she had some dozen pairs of eyes beg her to stay for the dinner she’d helped secure with the same sack of money that would keep the orphanage above water for another year.

 The money had come from the royal tax carriage she’d robbed the day before to buy herself passage out of the kingdom. She’d been planning that particular heist for weeks, her escape from Snow White’s vengeful clutches for months. The orphans needed the money more. Regina will just have to bide her time for just a little longer. Another carriage will come, another opportunity will present itself—but not tonight. Tonight, all the world is going to celebrate.

 Little groups of wassailers form in the small marketplace, and Regina watches hidden behind bushes of juniper and holly as they go door to door, singing and drinking spiced wine to the health of friends and neighbours. Love and joy come to you.

 It’s sentimental of her to be here, sentimental and foolish, but she’s still only human after all and while she’s used to solitude and even prefers it, Regina craves company once in a while. Today she does, in whatever shape and form she can get it without endangering herself and others too much. Yuletide brings back memories, for better and for worse, of a life long gone, of palace feasts with leftovers in such abundance that her stomach was blissfully full even with just the scraps. But in the good old days, the servants would have a feast to themselves, cooks and handmaids and menservants and all the help, and Regina would open gifts with stable boys and another batch with the princess. That was when Queen Eva had still lived, before the deadly rift between Regina and Snow White came to be.

 And now everything is a potential trap, a betrayal waiting to happen. Regina has to be suspicious, constantly on edge, ever vigilant. To a fault, she sometimes wonders; then dismisses the thought—it’s only self-preservation.

 Yuletide is no exception. Not with the wanted posters doubling in number and the prize on Regina’s head quadrupling. Snow White hates the season as much as she hates Regina, and the combination of the two seems to be quite unbearable to the tyrannical queen. No, if anything, Regina needs to be more cautious this time of the year than ever.

 Which is why the scrap of parchment tucked into her pocket has no business being there. She’s not going to use it, she decided that days ago.

 Then why hold on to it at all?

 ### It’s something of a tradition for Robin Hood and his Merry Men to venture into the town of Nottingham around solstice and spread some Yuletide cheer. Granted, it is risky business with the sheriff, Robin’s old rival, always looking for a bone to pick, but that’s part of the fun. Nursing cuts and bruises or even a broken nose the following morning, on the other hand, is not half as amusing. So his men rise reluctantly but refuse to shine on this misty Yule morn, and Robin’s vigorous efforts to bring some order into the bit of chaos their camp currently resembles is met with much grumbling and general grouchiness.

 “Less talk, more action,” Robin frowns while sorting through the various items of clothing haphazardly discarded around the camp—always one to lead by example, Robin makes sure of that. Then, smirking at a very hungover Friar Tuck: “I remember instructing you to share mead with the townsfolk, not to drink half a keg yourself.”

 Tuck mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like I hate guests, but sets about washing up the pots and pans from breakfast all the same.

 “Oi, Robin,” shouts Will Scarlet, leaning on the broom for support rather than sweeping up the shards of the clay bowl with globs of porridge still clinging to them. “That’s a lot of trouble we’re going to for this lass, innit? More than any guest in all me time here.”

 The Merry Men have entertained nobles and dignitaries in abundance, yet these visitors are guests only by the title bestowed upon them mockingly, treated to a feast they would pay for thrice over once relieved of coin and gems. Concerns with the camp’s cleanliness and overall charm simply never surface. The only aspect to showcase to them is without a doubt the camp’s ingenuous defences—although neither of these poor devils would be able to trace their way back to the cleverly disguised hideout even if they tried.

 Will’s cheeky implication starts a veritable riot of jests and jokes, and Robin finds himself the subject of much good-hearted ribbing and roasting over his apparent anticipation. The easy back and forth is partly a relief—even though the majority have been amendable to argument and eventually gave their stamp of approval to bringing an outsider into their circle, a hint of discomfort lingered all the same, and Robin’s glad to see that lift, if only temporarily. The downside of this banter, however, is the heat he feels rising to his cheeks—a silly thing over something quite as non-existent as any sort of romantic entanglement with this competition he’s never had the occasion to properly meet, but a thing nevertheless that his men would be sure to tease him for mercilessly should they notice.

 Robin ducks into his tent to retrieve his bow and arrows and sets off to instruct the sentries for the day.

 Halfway to the nearest watch post, Little John falls into step with him. A smudge of dried blood peeks from the frayed edges of the bandage plastered over his nose. He pinches the bridge of it gingerly— a tell-tale gesture that suggests he’s about to approach a sensitive subject. And so it is.

 “Dey hab a poid, mate,” says Little John mildly.

 “They have a point about what?” Robin stalls. And he really shouldn’t be using Little John’s temporary speech handicap against him, so he adds with a lick of guilt: “Revealing the whereabouts of our hideout?”

 “Dad I cad udderstand. Dobe, I bead all de fuss you’re baking abou’ dis bardicular visit. Abou’ Regida.”

 “Well, you know my reasons for inviting her, so I won’t repeat them. I’m aware she’s competition, John, but I’m certain we can trust her with this. It would be a valuable alliance. I don’t know,” Robin sighs with a touch of exasperation, “I just feel it in my gut that we’d be a good fit. Bandit Regina and the Merry Men,” he adds hastily lest there be any misunderstanding.

 His closest friend merely nods in response, a knowing little smile trailing after the gesture, as if he could understand something Robin himself can hardly begin to sense.

 “You’re fine with this, then?”

 “Her cobing—yes.” Then Little John frowns and huffs: “De cleading—do.”

 ### Regina is too curious for her own good. The scrap of parchment her latest heist yielded rustles between her fingers, crumpled and unreadable by now. It doesn’t matter, she has it memorised. What she hasn’t figured out though is why the outlaw would divulge the carefully guarded secret of their encampment’s location to their prime competition. Obviously this smells of betrayal, doesn’t it? It’s a trick, no more, and a rather heavy-handed one at that. Perhaps they’re even conspiring with the queen.

No, she doesn’t believe that of him somehow—stupid though such a hunch is.

If she approaches by ground, she will be spotted. So what she must do is climb and crawl in the foliage, painstakingly slowly, and once she reaches a point after which she must be discovered by the sentinels stationed at the perimeter of Robin Hood’s famously untraceable camp, to seek some kind of proof that the message was indeed from the thief and not, perchance, a setup with Black Knights lying in wait (they’re way too dim-witted to come up with a plan this complicated themselves, but the queen could have).

It takes a poorly concealed protruding root to shake her awake as she trips and fumbles for support lest she end up face-down in a luxurious carpet of moss. What the hell was she thinking, foregoing vigilance for the sake of fruitless speculation? She’s not going to this alleged campsite of theirs, she decided that a while ago. It’s just not safe, or reasonable. At least not when they’re expecting her. But in a few days, or weeks, when they’re no longer counting on her—although will they be foolish enough to let down their guard once they know their secret’s been revealed to her? Time will tell.

Regina’s steps lead her down a path dusted with flecks of snow melting to sludge under her boots. There’s no game in sight, not a sound other than that of leaves and snow crunching and squeaking under her boots. Fat flakes float around her, flurries chasing each other to the ground in ever increasing numbers, painting the forest a veritable winter wonderland.

The clearing she favours is hard to approach in the best of conditions, but Regina knows the way—up the gentle slope of the hillock, twining between branches as needles prick her face and pull at her hair, and finally around the boulder blocking the game trail. A few strategic brushes of her hands to clear away the snow, and she slips into her usual seat on the upturned trunk with a content sigh.

A patch of the forest stretches before her—a canvas of greens and browns and a blinding, sparkling white—yet she remains hidden to prowling eyes at this magnificent vantage point. She loves it here, loves the seclusion and the simultaneous oneness with nature that surrounds her here like a soft blanket. She doesn’t come often because the place belongs to other forest-dwellers, and she’d be loath to deprive them of their safe place just as she clings to her own. Yuletide is the only exception—they don’t come here this time of the year, and so she’s not intruding upon anyone when she gifts herself the blissful peace the place invariably fills her with.

Regina lets her thoughts wander and drift much like the snow, which soon drops like a thick curtain over the world. The tips of her boots brush mindless patterns into the freshly fallen layer as she swings her feet inches above the ground, memories of wooden swings and feet kicking in the air swimming before her eyes. Faster, Regina, higher! comes Snow White’s elated voice from back in a different lifetime, and Regina’s arms ache as she laughs and pushes her royal friend with more vigour. It’s only the cold, she tells herself as she wipes a cluster of tears from the corners of her eyes.

Perhaps this year the queen will open the parcel tied with a string that Regina’s left for her under the rosebush they used to play hide-and-seek in. Every year Regina leaves a present, something small and simple, for old times’ sake. Every year she finds a pile of ashes in its place, and knows the queen incinerated it before Snow White ever had a chance to resurface and see it for the peace offering it was—even just a temporary one; even just for the duration of Yule.

Twilight falls and Regina hasn’t moved, her backside numb with cold and back stiff. Somewhere deep in the forest (her heart skips when she realises she knows exactly where now), the thief and his men are making merry in the warmth of the burning Yule log. Somewhere in the village, church bells are ringing for those of the new belief to assemble for mass. Old ways and new flourish side by side, a motley of faiths, legend, and lore; but Regina doesn’t set much store by either of them—no creature, god, or fairy has ever come to her aid, no matter how she’d beg or wish or pray. Only the forest has been there for her, though harsh and cold at times, giving nothing for free and always making her work for her livelihood, but providing all the same if she only tries hard enough, imprinting a lesson life’s been so intent on teaching her—that the only one she can ever truly rely on is herself.

A shuffling sound comes from the thicket, a body pressing its way through to the clearing, putting an end to Regina’s reverie.

Her senses are suddenly on alert, her instinct kicking in. She reaches for her bow and plucks an arrow from the quiver. Something—or someone—is coming, and she’s ready with her bow strung tight and aimed at the mysterious source of the commotion.

A deer stumbles forth, dragging itself through the snow and brambles.

The poor beast is huge, and frozen still at the sight of the intruding human. It’s precious quarry, food for days if Regina fells it, and she cannot possibly miss from this close. Her stomach rumbles at the thought of the feast.

And yet she doesn’t shoot.

Their gazes remain locked, human and beast, and Regina bites her lip—the animal looks almost pleading. It’s come all the way here, where it thought it’d be safe and sheltered, only to find itself staring in the eye of a predator. Regina huffs in exasperation—this isn’t how you survive in the wild, and yet she knows she’s going home hungry tonight. She can’t kill the beast—not like this.

Lowering her bow, she steps back, stomach growling in protest, her mind raining reproof but her heart full when the deer steps further into the small glade, as if it understood. Regina gasps when its knees buckle and its long legs fold under its massive belly as it sinks to the ground, a high-pitched wail resounding in the stillness of the thickening night.

It’s a doe—and she’s in labour.

### Sherwood forest looks as festive as it ever could, even the weather playing into Robin’s cards as it works its wintry magic on the landscape. The camp gleams with cleanliness as much as any forest hideout could, and the Yule log is burning with a bright, homey flame. Robin sips on spiced wine and watches the air shimmer from the heat as he stands on the snowless patch of ground cleared by the warmth of the fire. He’s waiting for the guest that’s already running late.

Robin watches Regina every year, and can’t fathom her behaviour. She hides from those she does good unto, and doesn’t make friends. The suspiciousness and fear of betrayal he understands to an extent, but the thoughtful gift she smuggles to the queen is a mystery to him—she’s met with such cruelty, with guards swarming around that same spot every year, and yet she never fails to make this gesture. He wants to know that generous yet closed-off heart—curiosity and awe, and a feeling of kinship he’s only just beginning to grasp, are his sole motivation. That’s why he entrusted her with their biggest, deadliest secret, and drew a map, hoping the show of trust would convince her he wasn’t a threat to her.

It seems to have achieved the opposite, for wait as he might, she doesn’t show up as the ancient festivities in their camp proceed. The Merry Men honour the old ways, the turning wheel of the year fuelled by the never-ceasing battle for rule between the Oak King and the Holly King. He’s no idea what Regina’s beliefs are—but he finds, befuddled, that he wants to know them with a force he can’t quite account for yet.

With a heart quite inexplicably heavy, Robin abandons the half-drunk beverage, asks Little John to oversee the festivities in his absence, and sets out for a walk to clear his head.

He wanders aimlessly through the woods he knows like the back of his hand, slipping under branches heavy with snow, cool flakes melting on his nose and eyelashes in the ever thickening fall. He pays no attention to paths already snowed in, to landmarks barely discernible in the overwhelming whiteness that quickly turns into dusk. Lost in thought, Robin jumps as a bulk of snow tips a branch and lands on the ground with a soft thud.

Pressed against a tree, he draws his weapons and strains his eyes for a glimpse of the mystery visitor responsible for the disturbance.

A doe comes into view—and she’s alone. That’s odd for the season, for deer rarely wander from their herd, and especially not in winter. A lone doe is a rarity unless it’s the spring, unless she’s—pregnant. Robin’s eyes drop to its protruding belly hanging low, to the swollen udder, and his arms fall to his body, his grip on the bow and arrow slackening. The doe’s isolated herself because the birth of her young is imminent, and she must be on her way to the fawning site. Her timing is most unfortunate—in this weather, it could even be fatal.

Robin shakes his head, filled with compassion for the poor thing, and for lack of better things to do, he follows the retreating animal. The vigorous snowfall hinders his vision, and he needs to keep his distance and stay upwind lest he scare the doe, but luckily he’s figured out her destination halfway there. Reaching the clearing, he crawls through the foliage and crouches amongst the boughs, out of sight but with a perfect view himself. He won’t interfere with nature’s course unless absolutely necessary.

The doe’s lying on the ground, a dark shape in the pristine snow, her pained cry cutting through the serenity of the night.

And then he hears another voice—a soft cooing, words quite indiscernible if they are words at all, but clearly meant to comfort the ailing mother-to-be. Robin cranes his neck, squints in the dark, and gasps when realisation dawns on him.

Regina’s bow is at the ready within the blink of an eye, her aim remarkably true considering she can’t possibly have seen him.

“Don’t shoot,” he says quickly as he emerges into the clearing with his hands raised, “I’m a friend.”

“I don’t have friends,” she claps back without thought, then corrects with a hint of something—sadness, and frustration with herself maybe, for revealing too much or wanting more: “We’re not friends.”

“Perhaps I meant the doe,” Robin grins.

He can’t see her face from here, but he would stake anything that she rolls her eyes at him.

“You can’t have followed me here,” she reasons, still suspicious—always suspicious, and he supposed it comes with the trade, but in her case it feels like there’s more to it than that. “The snow has long covered my trail.”

“As I said, milady, I followed the doe. I wanted to make sure she and the fawn will be fine.”

“Well, I have the situation under control,” she insists. A stubborn one, this Bandit Regina. “Go back to your camp. Celebrate with your men.”

“I’d rather stay,” he says mildly, and steps to the log.

### “I’d rather stay,” he says brazenly, and hovers over her makeshift seat as if he had a right to be there. “May I?”

“I don’t own the log,” she shrugs, still standing with her bow drawn but lowered, and damn him for making her feel so flustered. Especially when he brushes specks of snow off the wood and makes a sweeping gesture next, prompting her with a wink to sit.

Regina scoffs at the gallantry, though her stomach performs an odd little skip that’s hard to blame on hunger. Their arms brush as they sit side by side, bows and quivers propped either end of the log. The moon choses that awkward moment to illuminate the clearing, casting silver light upon the world. Regina needs every ounce of self-control not to give in to curiosity and stare openly at the face she’s only ever seen on wanted posters, often alongside her own. Do the drawings do him justice?

The doe watches them with soft brown eyes brimming with pain, but soon she has other concerns as she begins to prepare for the fawn’s arrival, licking herself thoroughly.

The outlaw seems engrossed in the scene, and Regina uses his distraction to take a proper look at him.

He’s handsome. Painfully so. Fair hair, brilliant blue eyes, stubble she wants to run her fingers over. Dimples for days when he turns his head and smirks—caught. Shit, he’s caught her staring!

“I was hoping we’d meet under different circumstances,” he tells her with that smirk still glued to his face, “but I’m certainly not complaining. Witnessing a fawning is a rarity even for us forest-folk.”

“Did you really think I would just walk into my competition’s camp? I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Actually, I do know that. I’ve admired your work for quite a while. I was going to propose a partnership.”

“Oh?” That’s—not at all something she expected him to say. Praise and compliments on her accomplishments have been scarce in her life. But she mustn’t let herself be so easily swayed by sweet talk. People lie, and make mistakes, and betray others—her heart is her own responsibility, and she’s hell-bent on keeping it whole and beating in her chest. “I appreciate the offer, but I work alone.”

Robin Hood nods, as if he had seen it coming, quite undeterred as he admits: “I was hoping you might reconsider. It seems we’re already partnering up for the night at least.”

The thought of spending the night with this man sends her heart into a wild stampede she doesn’t know how to tamp down.

“This kind of thing hardly takes all night,” she rolls her eyes at him. Presumptuous thief. And yet it’s she who’s—annoyingly—blushing at his innocent statement.

“Not if it goes smoothly, no,” he gives her. “But her timing’s off—she may yet find herself in trouble. I hope I’m wrong, of course.”

“Why aren’t you at camp anyway? Weren’t you gonna throw a grand Yuletide fest?”

“Oh I’m sure my men are making the best of it,” he chuckles. He has a good laugh—warm and rumbling. “I fancied a walk. She crossed my path. You know the rest. What brings you here?”

“I fancied a walk,” she grins gamely. No way is she detailing the depth of her thoughts to this stranger who styles himself as friend. Not that he’s a complete stranger, of course. There have been messages, aside from the map. Whimsical notes back and forth upon snatching loot from under the other’s nose. Words of warning when danger lurked. She knows his reputation, and he knows hers. That doesn’t make them—well, anything, beyond acquaintances at best.

Then the doe gives out a strangled little sound and begins to push, and there’s no room for conversation anymore.

###

It’s only when Regina loses herself in the moment that Robin breathes more freely.

The second that moonbeam hit Regina’s face, Robin was simply enchanted. All this time he struggled not to let it show, not to stare too long or bask too obviously in the moment. Ever since those first few words, that smart mouth of hers and the adorable scrunchy face she made at him, she’s been reeling him in—and she doesn’t even know it. Her dark hair’s a tangled mess, her braid barely holding together and adorned by stray needles and twigs; her face raw from the long stay outdoors; her mouth perhaps a touch bluish from the cold. It’s her eyes he wants to fall headlong into though—flecks of honey in molten chocolate, bottomless, swirling with emotion.

Those eyes are trained on the doe in labour now, and completely oblivious to the rest of the world. She leans forward on the log once the baby deer’s forelegs emerge with its little head tucked between them, barely able to hold back as she wills herself not to interfere with nature’s way. She’s worrying her lip, fists clenched as the doe struggles on. Robin’s not sure what to attribute his little shiver to—the chilliness, the little mewl the half-born fawn lets out, or Regina’s fingers digging into his thigh absent-mindedly.

He orders himself to snap out of it, to comport himself like the gentleman he is, and focus on the poor deer like he said he was there to do in the first place. The sight truly is a rare one, and most expecting deer wouldn’t tolerate others nearby when their time came, but this one seems resigned to their presence. Indeed, she looks absolutely knackered. The fawn’s progress seems to have stopped, but it’s not for the doe’s lack of trying.

“It’s stuck,” Regina whispers, eyes wide with horror.

“They’ll make it,” Robin assures, though he fails to keep the worry from his voice.

The doe has a faraway look in her eyes now, and Regina rests her arm on her belly, clutching nervously at her garments. He quite understands what she’s going through—a burning need to help clashing with the knowledge that their interference might just ruin the fawn’s bond with its mother.

Robin stands slowly, a vague idea floating to the surface of his mind, but he’s barely taken a step when he’s yanked back by a fretful Regina.

“Don’t touch the baby,” she hisses, “you can’t! She’ll—” her breath hitches, “she’ll abandon it if you do!”

Rumour has it that’s what happened to her—that her mother abandoned Regina as a baby, that she left her in the forest to fend for herself—to die.

“I know,” he rushes to say, “I won’t.”

Robin reaches for his wineskin and uncorks it, raising a brow at Regina. With a soft oh, she holds out her cupped hands for him to pour water into, and offers it to the doe. She drinks up—and again, and again. Robin has no more water to offer, but Regina grabs a handful of snow and breathes on it furiously, the warmth of her breath melting it to sludge for the doe to drink.

And then with another mighty push the fawn slips out.

Robin grins broadly as the new mother sets to licking the little thing clean, his heart filled with reverence at the miracle of life. A wet chuckle escapes Regina when the doe’s vigorous cleaning knocks the fawn off its wobbly legs, and once the little one starts nursing, Regina turns to him with tears running down her cheeks and a smile so radiant it positively robs him of air.

And that’s when Robin knows he’s well and truly doomed.

### Regina isn’t sure how or when it happened, but they’re halfway to the Merry Men’s camp before she even realises her hand is clutched in Robin’s. Their shared experience has brought them rather close rather quickly, forged a bond that scares her but that she also can’t help but want to explore. Their bows clink together now and again as they walk side by side, and they snicker at each other every time. Reverence has given way to elation, and even though that fearful, warning voice at the back of her mind tells her she’s being reckless—perhaps not with her life after all, but most certainly with her heart—Regina decides not to listen for once.

The hour is late, and the sentries must recognise their leader because there’s neither warning nor attack as they enter the ingeniously concealed camp. The fire is burning low, the Yule log feeding the flames still, and empty tankards lie scattered around kegs of ale and barrels of wine. Remnants of dinner are strewn on a rough-hewn table—a wild-turkey leg here, a chunk of pork there, sweet honey cakes piled high, and candied apples on a spit.

He offers her one and she accepts, looking around the many tents, in which his men have undoubtedly departed for the night if the snoring is any indication.

“It was neater when I left it,” Robin excuses with a half-smirk, and she can’t believe he’s actually being bashful about this—as if he were anxious for her approval.

“I didn’t have you pegged for a neat-freak,” she teases, then takes pity on him. “It’s a good hideout. Well-concealed. Well-protected. Very clever."

He beams at her—actually beams at her, and could the impossible man be any more adorable?

“Well, we missed dinner—but how about I make you breakfast?”

“That sounds wonderful, but—” It’s too big a commitment, feels way too much after having spent the whole night with him, and part of her wants to run and never look back. Part of her wishes for him to to give her just enough time and space to work through her issues. To be someone not to break down the walls built around her heart, but to patiently wait for her to invite them inside.

“Tea then—to warm you up before the journey.” And bless him, he seems to understand. She could cry—and she has, she remembers and feels her cheeks grow hot. He doesn’t comment, only grins as he jokes: “My men say I make a mean cuppa.”

“Tea,” she nods, laughing, “and another one of those scrumptious apples?”

“Whatever milady wishes.” Robin clasps her fingers gently, looking at her in a way that makes his meaning quite clear—it’s not just the meal he’s talking about. He understands, and he’ll wait.

Regina’s never been the kind of person who gets a happy ending—but perhaps she can afford a merry beginning, and see where it takes them.

[aion-rsa]

Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart Weapons and How to Unlock Them

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This Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart article contains spoilers.

In addition to its Pixar-like visuals, explosive set pieces, and satirical humor, the Ratchet & Clank series is famous for letting players pull the trigger on some of the most creative weapons in all of gaming. It should come as no surprise to learn, then, that the same is also true for the latest entry, Rift Apart, which is out exclusive for the PS5 with a whopping 18 firearms for you to upgrade and enjoy.

However, with so many weapons at your disposal, you’ll definitely want to know what each gun does so you can master it as quickly as possible. It’s highly unlikely you’ll be able to upgrade all 18 in a single playthrough, so consider this guide your one-stop resource for finding out which Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart weapons are most suited to your playstyle and which to level up first.

How weapon upgrades work

Similarly to the 2016 reboot, upgrading your weapons in Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart requires you to visit the store and pour vast amounts of Raritarium into the designated slots. This is a resource you’ll come across plenty during your adventure. The more you level up your weapons through natural use, the more hexagonal grids you can unlock and chain together in order to access further buffs. These vary from an improved ammo clip and larger blast radius, to simply higher damage. Be sure to unlock the perks situated around any orange grids first to instantly unlock special bonuses.

Burst/Blast Pistol

The Burst Pistol is the very first gun given to you in the game, serving as Rift Apart’s version of the reliable pistol with a high fire rate that’s become customary in most Ratchet & Clank installments. It’s about as basic a gun as you’ll use in this adventure, but is a good one to fall back on in the later hours when ammo becomes increasingly scarce and you want to deal tiny amounts of damage quickly. Upon reaching level 5, it becomes the Blast Pistol and fires plasma shots in a three-burst spread.

Planet it becomes available: Corson V

Good for: Hitting enemies from far away and landing lots of rounds quickly.

The Enforcer/Executor

The Enforcer is the closest thing to a shotgun you’ll find, letting you fire off one shot when the R2 trigger is pulled down halfway or firing two in quick succession with a full squeeze. Having two barrels makes it a great way to deal a lot of damage to anyone trying to invade your personal space early on in the game, helping to give you more room and keep enemies at a good distance. It graduates to the Executor at level 5 and lets you fire a quadruple barrel instead of double.

Planet it becomes available: Corson V

Good for: Dispersing tightly-packed groups of enemies and giving you breathing room

Shatterbomb/Shatterblast

It wouldn’t be a Ratchet & Clank game if you didn’t have some form of bomb glove. Here it’s known simply as the Shatterbomb, and is ideal for creating a wide spread of damage amongst small groups of enemies, or helping you trim down the health bar of any bigger fellows. Pulling the R2 trigger down halfway sets the throwing arc, helping you to better aim where the grenade will land when deployed. Upgrade it fully to level 5 and any grenade thrown will explode on impact.

Planet it becomes available: Corson V

Good for: Targeting a specific area and causing a wide blast radius of damage

Mr. Fungi/Ms. Fungal

You won’t find Mr. Zurkon in your weapon wheel this time around, making way for an all-new attack buddy called Mr. Fungi. As his name suggests, he’s more than happy to have a blast firing at enemies you can’t get to, or provide fire support while you focus elsewhere. The good thing is that you can throw up to five Mr. Fungis out at once for assistance without any disappearing. This goes double for when you upgrade him all the way to level 5, wherein each Mr. Fungi is joined by his wife Ms. Fungal.

Planet it becomes available: Nefarious City

Good for: Providing extra firepower while you focus on more immediate threats.

Negatron Collider/Large Negatron Collider

The Negatron Collider is just as badass as it sounds for the most part, unleashing a single beam of charged energy capable of passing through multiple enemies at once. That charge doesn’t last forever, though, and you’ll often be forced to switch to a backup weapon because its clip size isn’t especially large to begin with. However, it’s the perfect choice of gun when stacks enemies are lined up before you. It’s promoted to the Large Negatron Collider at level 5, triggering a huge explosion after the charge shot is finished.

Planet it becomes available: Nefarious City

Good for: Instantly wiping out enemies any time they form a single line in front of you.

Topiary/Toxiary Sprinkler

Through not quite as fun a gadget as the Groovitron from Ratchet & Clank (2016), the Topiary Sprinkler essentially does the same job. Simply launch one of these within the radius of a large enemy group and they’ll instantly be sprayed with water that transforms them into topiaries. This freezes them in place for a short while and lets you get in a lot of shots without much risk. Amazingly, it even works on bosses.

Planet it becomes available: Sargasso

Good for: Temporarily locking enemies in one place to keep the pressure off.

Ricochet/Wreckochet

One of the most inventive weapons to appear in Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart is the aptly titled Richochet, which lets you launch a giant metal ball into the air and repeatedly hit any targeted enemy over and over again with just a few squeezes of R2. This is especially handy whenever far-off enemies are sniping you and you want to halt their attacks, but is also equally perfect for demolishing smaller groups in a short amount of time.

Planet it becomes available: Sargasso

Good for: Interrupting enemy attacks to give you some breathing room.

Lightning Rod/Strike

It must be an unspoken rule in video games that any weapon based around lightning or electricity must not only stun one enemy, but also chain strike any and all others standing near them. That’s essentially how the Lightning Rod pistol operates, too. It’s another weapon that stuns enemies in place temporarily after firing, giving you a chance to maneuver when it gets too crowded. At level 5, the Lightning Rod will see electric needles jump to other enemies upon death.

Planet it becomes available: Scarstu Debris Field

Good for: Simultaneously stunning multiple enemies in place and covering a lot of ground.

Drillhound/Drillpack

The Drillhound is exactly as bonkers at sounds, but that’s what makes it great. This is essentially a spin on a missile launcher, only instead of directly launching rockets at enemies it shoots out a hound that digs its way over to enemies and blows up in their faces. Each round moves a lot quicker when you lock on to somebody via L2, greatly reducing the risk of your shots being intercepted. If you want to land a lot of shots fast and from far away, the Drillhound is your weapon.

Planet it becomes available: Scarstu Debris Field

Good for: Catching unsuspecting enemies off guard and safely unleashing a lot of high-damage shots.

Droid/Void Repulsor

Why equip a shield or a gun when you can have both? That’s essentially the thinking behind the Droid Repulsor, which is great for deflecting enemy fire, as it pops up a protective shield whenever you hold down L2 or squeeze R2 halfway. This makes the Droid Repulsor ideal for absorbing any incoming damage, letting you get up close and personal before delivering a sudden and effective wide-spread blast. When promoted to the Void Reactor at level 5, it lets you shoot back enemy fire.

Planet it becomes available: Savali

Good for: Offering a lot of defense against enemy fire so you can unleash up-close blasts.

Cold Snap

A single blast from the Cold Snap gun is all it takes to immediately freeze enemies in place. It performs similarly to the Topiary Sprinkler you acquire a bit earlier, except it specifically allows you to target single enemies rather than having you send a shot out and hope for the best. This more focused approach is often more effective and is perfect for follow-up melee hits.

Planet it becomes available: Cordelion

Good for: Incapacitating enemies in place and having them slide over surfaces.

Glove of Doom/Apocalypse Glove

The Glove of Doom quite literally lets you deploy many agents of chaos. Rounds might be scarce, even after being fully upgraded, true, but these miniaturized war bots can pack a solid punch whenever they’re sent to assault nearby adversaries. They’ll even accompany you for a short while until the next surprise attack surfaces, distracting smaller foes and giving you room to breathe as you attack with your other weapons. It graduates to the Apocalypse Glove at level 5.

Planet it becomes available: Cordelion

Good for: Distracting and attacking enemies while you reload, retreat, or seek health.

Buzz Blades/Doom Blades

Whereas most pistol types in Ratchet & Clank require direct lock-on to be effective, the Buzz Blades are better suited to more relaxed players who simply want to aim in the general direction of opponents and connect with their targets. The result is a gun that isn’t as precise as, say, Lighting Rod or the Burst Pistol, but slicing up bots using masses of blades in a swarm has its bonuses. Fully upgrade it to level 5 and the Buzz Blades will bounce off enemies and ricochet off the environment. 

Planet it becomes available: Torren IV

Good for: Dealing a minimal amount of enemy damage at a fast rate, and firing without aiming.

Warmonger/Peacemaker

If you want to do a lot of damage with a single pull of R2, look no further than the Warmonger. This is a missile rocket launcher without many bells and whistles, true, but it doesn’t really need them when you consider it delivers a satisfying wallop to almost every type of enemy, including mini-bosses. Things get more adventurous when you upgrade to level 5 and it becomes the Peacemaker, with each rocket launched releasing a series of micro-rockets as soon as it hits its target.

Planet it becomes available: Scarstu Debris Field (Second Time)

Good for: Giving foes an explosive thump from far away.  

Bombardier

When one bomb isn’t enough, you can always rely on the Bombardier. Why? Because rather than let you throw a single grenade one at a time, when fired, this device launches a drone that will fly overhead to release a stream of bombs dropping in a row. Using it most effectively requires precision and timing – two things that aren’t always possible in a heated Ratchet & Clank firefight. However, the Bombardier can still be great for crowd control.

Planet it becomes available: Scarstu Debris Field (Second Time)

Good for: Reigning explosive death over your enemies from above, provided they’re in a straight line.

Headhunter

The Headhunter acts as Rift Apart’s version of a sniper rifle, letting you dispatch far-away adversaries from a first-person view when aiming. The catch is that it has a pretty slow fire rate compared to some other rifles in the game. Having said that, upgrading the Headhunter to level 5 is a worthy endeavor, seeing as it can then also slow time.

Planet it becomes available: Ardolis

Good for: Picking off foes from afar and popping precise head shots.

Blackhole Storm

The Blackhole Storm is capable of unleashing a tirade of rounds at any enemy you point it towards at an incredibly rapid pace. This does mean it will easily overheat over time if you don’t ease off the trigger every once in a while, but it’s a worthy trade-off considering how effective it is at keeping the waves of enemies at bay. Just bear in mind that the Blackhole Storm also takes its time to spin up in comparison to other weapons.

Planet it becomes available: Sargasso (Second Time)

Good for: Piling on the damage rapidly within a very brief space of time.

Bouncer

Despite being a Challenge Mode weapon that’s not unlocked until you’ve beaten the game, the Bouncer is a remarkably standard gun. It’s kind of like a grenade launcher that fires projectiles that then break off into smaller explosives. While not the most exciting gun in the game, it is remarkably effective.

Planet it becomes available: Challenge Mode unlock/Deluxe Edition unlock

Good for: AoE damage and dealing with large groups of small enemies.

Pixelizer

Here’s another Challenge Mode weapon that proves to be surprisingly standard from a sheer functionality standpoint. The Pixelizer is pretty much a shotgun that just so happens to turn its victims into pixels. It’s actually a lot of fun to use even if it’s not the best weapon in the game.

Planet it becomes available: Challenge Mode unlock/Deluxe Edition unlock

Good for: Enjoying retro visuals/sound effects while dealing respectable close-range damage.

Ryno 8

Tapping into Rift Apart’s themes of time displacement and dimension splitting, the Ryno 8 is your reward for collecting all 10 Spybots hidden across the various planets. It’s effectively a built-in easter egg machine that pays tribute to PlayStation history, opening up rifts and dropping various bits of memorabilia out of the sky to create a large explosion. Objects include the Thunder Jaw from Horizon Zero Dawn, among many others.

Planet it becomes available: N/A

Good for: Covering a wide blast radius and taking down small groups of enemies instantly.

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[biofunmy]

In protest clouds, Hong Kong tourists see silver lining

No tiresome wait for hugs and kisses from Mickey and Minnie Mouse. No queue at all for Hyperspace Mountain, where thrill-seekers are so scarce that Star Wars’ Admiral Ackbar speaks to himself in the dark.

Tinker Bell gazes out over rows of empty seats on the train to Hong Kong Disneyland that was far busier before tourists were scared off by anti-government protests shaking this international hub for business and fun.

That’s tough for local business but great for Disney fans like Yunice Tsui and her 7 and 4-year-old daughters, adorable in Minnie headbands. With an annual pass to the park she’s already toured nine times, Tsui is better placed than most to size up the body-blow to Hong Kong visitor numbers from the often violent demonstrations, now in their fifth month.

“Before June, you’d generally queue for more than 30 minutes for each ride. For the last few times since July, we’ve been here about two-to-three times, every time it’s about a five-to-six minute wait to queue up for a ride. There are certainly less people, I would say 60% less. Kids are very happy because after a ride, they can go queue up for another one and play again.”

The impact of the protests on tourism is verging on catastrophic for Hong Kong, one of the world’s great destinations and geared up to receive 65 million visitors a year.

On Victoria Peak, restaurants with knock-out nighttime views of the city’s neon-lit skyscrapers stand empty. The snaking lines of tourists for the clicketty-clacketty 19th-century tram to the top are now just a memory.

The Dragon Boat Carnival in June, when protests started: canceled. A Wine & Dine Festival scheduled for the end of this month: scrapped, too. Hong Kong received 2.3 million fewer visitors in August compared with a year earlier, largely trips that people from elsewhere in China are no longer making to the semi-autonomous Chinese territory. September visitor numbers, due Oct. 31, are unlikely to be any better, given recent protest-related violence and chaos.

“It’s deserted,” said Dyutimoy Chakraborty, who runs the Gordon Ramsay Bread Street Kitchen & Bar opposite the Peak Tram. The tram now closes at 10 p.m. instead of midnight, because of “potential demonstrations and protests in the nearby area.”

“Normally, there would be a huge queue,” Chakraborty said on a recent weeknight. “Since the protests started, it has been like this.”

The eatery has lost nearly half of its weekday business, he added.

“You think of what you could have made and what you are making at the moment,” he said. “That difference, yes, it hurts.”

Protester leaflets advise, “You’ve arrived in a broken, torn-apart city,” and the protests have at times caused monumental disruptions of traffic and public transport.

But even when the protests have involved hundreds of thousands of people, they’ve generally been confined to only a few areas in this semi-tropical former British colony of 7 million.

And the tourists who come anyway are finding bargain-basement hotel rates, two-for-one deals, easy late checkouts and other sweeteners.

Visiting this month from Taiwan, where he works as a teacher, South African traveler Winand Koch paid the equivalent of just US$65 per night for a room in a comfy hotel that was charging nearly quadruple that rate when he first checked a few months back. Of all his trips to Hong Kong, the two-day stay with his sister, Betro, was “one of the best,” he said.

“I’ve never seen Hong Kong this quiet before,” he said. “We didn’t have to queue anywhere. We could get in everywhere.”

Trundling along with suitcases through crowds of demonstrators, hoping to catch a train to the airport a day after protest violence shut down the entire rail network, Koch said he’d enjoyed being “part of history.”

“By accident ran into the protest today,” he said. “But it was fun, actually, the people were all friendly, helping us through … they even gave us masks.”

Aside from the risk of stumbling unawares into street battles and clouds of police tear gas — as some tourists have to their coughing, spluttering dismay — Hong Kong remains a pleasant city. Visitors of either sex needn’t think twice about venturing out late at night or while wearing valuables. For the moment, the U.S. State Department still only recommends that visitors exercise extra caution. A similarly worded travel advisory from the British government says, “most visits are trouble free.”

Edgar Ruiz said he flew from Mexico “just to see the protests.”

“I wanted to experience it firsthand. This is big!” he said. “I want to be telling people that I was here when this happened, because it is going to be major in history.”

Even some Hong Kong residents are enjoying a respite from the usual floods of visitors, mainly from mainland China. The number of total arrivals has almost doubled over the past decade, from 36 million in 2010 to 65 million last year.

Up on the Peak, Hong Kong-born Isaac Mercado, a 26-year-old banking analyst, was luxuriating in the unusual emptiness.

“We used to have a quiet city,” he said. Now, with fewer visitors, “I get the chance to explore more a bit on my own, and not be crammed with loads of tourists. So, it’s getting more like my home, rather than a tourist city.”

———

Associated Press video journalist Mstyslav Chernov contributed.

Sahred From Source link Travel

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[icechuksblog]

Several  Nigerians have started to lament the hardship brought about by the lingering fuel scarcity across the nation. While many had looked forward to a blissful holiday season devoid of chaos and confusion, the opposite was what happened, as many were forced to spend long hours at fuel stations, thereby cutting down on the merriment and bliss of the Christmas season.Nightmarish. That was how Calabar –based banker Samuel Akpan described his experience searching for fuel in the days leading to, and during the Christmas festivity.Not many Nigerians would disagree with him. Others will probably go for harsher adjectives to describe what they went through during the period. And the agony is not yet over, despite promises by top government officials that the end is in sight for the fuel scarcity that has paralysed economic activities across the country for the their week running. “I think I have spent more time on fuel queues than I have with my family this Christmas,” 40-year-old Akpan told newsmen in Calabar.His decision to buy from filling stations rather than the black market stemmed, partly from his experience. He once bought fuel from the black market and he does not like what happened to his car afterwards: the engine was damaged apparently by the adulterated fuel he was sold then.Besides the quality of petrol, he said he could not bring himself to cough up between N250 to N400 for a litre of petrol by the road side. Consequently, he had to spend up to 12 hours on the queue at a filling station to enable him get fuel at the official N145 per litre.The nightmarish experience, according to him, ended up taking the joy out of the yuletide season, although he was quick to add that fuel scarcity at this time of the year in the country is not particularly new.“We must not forget that this is not new to us,” he said. “I see people make it seem like it is all about the president, Buhari. Let us not forget that in the past this always occurred during this season and I dare say, some even worse than what we are facing now.“We always seem to forget too easily. My disappointment with this government is that despite all its promises, it still allowed this situation to persist. We were thinking that with all the assurances it gave us, this kind of experience would remain in the past, but what we are experiencing right now is a real shame.”A fellow Calabar resident, Miss Affiong Etim, could not stand the hike in transport fares caused by the fuel scarcity.Her words: “No light, no roads, no water, no money, and now no fuel. The money we don’t even have we now spend on transport alone. And it is not just transport, because as a market woman, I can tell you that the price of everything has gone up.“Transport fares have doubled or trippled. My brother, people are suffering. As I am to you, I have been standing here for close to one hour and I still cannot get a vehicle to enable me go and do my business. It is bad.”Mr Chinedu Nwosu, who was on his way to Umuahia, Abia State, said he had to pay N2,500 as against the normal fare of N1,500.Blaming government for the situation, Nwosu said: “I can’t blame transporters because it is business they are running and they buy petrol at this crazy price. It’s all government’s fault. It has to do something urgently about it.”The agony of motorists and commuters continues in Ilorin metropolis, the Kwara State capital, and other parts of the state like Offa, Ajase Ipo, Omu-Aran, Omupo and Idofian, as only a few filling stations are dispensing fuel.Only NNPC mega station and retail outlets along Asa Dam road, have regular supplies to sell. Same goes for Bovas filing stations along Fate and Offa Garage Roads.Sadly, there are long queues of vehicles waiting to buy fuel. Accordingly, transport fares have gone up astronomically.Black marketers are having a field day with five litres now going for between N1,800 and N2,200 in Ilorin township. The situation has also affected the prices of food items and other essentials.Recounting his ordeal, a motorist who gave his name as Johnson Abiodun, said he had to park his car at home.“I now take motorbike to my workshop,” he said. The situation is not palatable at all. It marred the Christmas celebration”.A Jos motorist, Monday Azi, is surprised that government’s promise that the increase in the pump price of petrol to N145 per litre would ensure an uninterrupted supply of fuel in the country has now failed.“That deregulation has gone on for two years over and market forces have not brought down the price of petroleum.”A commercial bus driver in Jos who chose not to be named said: “Since December 23, once I close in the evening, instead of going home to rest, I go and queue at the station to enable me get fuel for the next day.”Another commercial taxi driver in Jos, Sunday Abah, said: “For me to get fuel by 7 or 8 in the morning, I would join the queue by 10pm of the previous day.“It began as a joke; we thought it would end quickly. But here we are, nobody knows when we will be out of the problem”.A major fall out of the fuel scarcity in Jos is the December 15 tanker explosion at a filling station in the tin city. One of the five tankers waiting to off load their content unexpectedly exploded.Three of the tankers were completely burnt and the remaining two partly burnt.Two lives were lost in the inferno.A Port Harcourt commercial driver, Onwuchekwa Precious, revealed hat the situation was getting unbearable for him.“Things are so bad; the pain is unbearable. Sometimes I sleep at petrol stations to be able to get fuel to do my business. Christmas did not go as planned at all because since the fuel scarcity started, the price of almost everything has gone up. Times are very hard, I must confess.”Another commercial driver, who identified himself simply as Isaac, said: “We did not have a wonderful Christmas at all, if you ask me. It is just that we Nigerians are so used to suffering and smiling, according to the music icon Fela. The fuel scarcity ruined my plans for the Christmas.“I had planned to go home (Anambra State) with my family but I couldn’t do that because the cost of fuel was too high. I am buying petrol at the rate of N250 per litre and black marketers are selling at N400 per litre. As a result of this, I have no choice than to increase transport fare.A traveller, Sefiu Olabisi, said: “It is so bad we are ending this beautiful month on this note. I normally pay N4,500 for a bus ride from Port Harcourt to Lagos, but it suddenly went up to N10,000.”For Mr. Femi Olutade, a Lagos resident, this year’s Christmas will linger in his memory for ll the wrong reasons.“Transport fare increased four times over,” he lamented, adding: “I boarded Ketu to Berger, which was usually N50, at N200 on the 23rd and 24th December. Berger to Oshodi, which used to be N150, went up to N500.“This fuel crisis made Christmas to be less memorable for a lot of people who couldn’t travel to see their loved ones. Many motorists couldn’t do their businesses efficiently because it was hard to get fuel.“They were forced to cut down on the number of trips, hence reducing drastically the number of vehicles that could convey the teeming population”, he lamented.Mr Olutade believes that until the constitution of the country is strengthened and regulatory agencies become independent and transparent in their activities, fuel scarcity may persist.“Marketers wouldn’t have the nerve to hoard fuel if they know the DPR is watching and has the constitutional authority to arrest and prosecute any offender”, he submitted.Olumide Ogundele, an Osogbo resident, simply remained indoors during the festivity to avoid the chaos that characterized the period. The fuel scarcity made the Christmas holiday boring,” he said.“I had to stay indoors to maintain some sanity. The few places I had to travel to, I couldn’t get fuel and that means missing out of what would have been a wonderful celebration with my family.“Visiting some places within the metropolis also became a chore. Transport fare was jacked up and we even had to make do with squeezing ourselves, as four people were packed to occupy a space made for three persons”.It was the same case of retreat from fun activities for Amos Abah, a youth corps member, who couldn’t travel home for Christmas as a result of the fuel scarcity.“Fuel scarcity in Owerri gave my Christmas celebration a solitary and less exciting outlook. The ripple effect that resulted in a hike in transport fare within Owerri made me retreat to the comfort of my room to avoid engaging drivers in arguments over transport fare.“The fare from World Bank to Wetheral Road, which was usually N100, was doubled and in some cases quadrupled, with drivers charging outrageous fees whilst taking advantage of helpless passengers”.

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