#and everyone voted inability to emote normally

[nyxi-pixie]

no because life must be so much more fun for people that do not have the hatred of the gods in their compact ass bodies

fitting this much rage into 160cm just isnt reasonable

[abacus-and-paper-money]

Comet Theory Thursday: The Private & Fucked-Up Life of The House

[CONTENT WARNING! Today's analysis gets a little darker than normal, and there will be discussion of abuse/child abuse, manipulation, and similar topics. Please proceed with caution, and feel free to dip if things start getting too dark or something triggers you. ^^] It's no secret to anybody that the Bolkonsky household is incredibly fucked. I mean, they literally introduce themselves that way. "Andrey's family, totally messed up." But since today's vote was literally UNANIMOUS, and to make up for my inactivity because of finals this week, I thought that I'd do an extra-good and thorough job on this one. I've pulled out the off-broadway recordings, which I don't normally listen to, as extra evidence. Additionally, I've done some research on domestic abuse for some additional proof. Also, if you haven't already, please read the warning at the top of this post before continuing. Content under the cut! [Usual Disclaimer: This is an analysis of Great Comet and Great Comet!Bolkonskys, and does not include any canon from War & Peace. I consider them separate universes. :D Plus I haven't actually read War & Peace-]

Alrighty, welcome to the analysis! Let's just dive right in. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that everybody is kind of on the same page in the "OPB is an asshole, Mary is baby and deserves NONE of this shit," book. And, surprise surprise, that's exactly what I found more of. Not only is he an asshole, but it's to the point of emotional abuse. So, let's look at the symptoms of abuse and child abuse. According to Mayo Clinic (which is a very credible source, I did my research, guys) here are some symptoms of abuse/child abuse. I've written down here the ones that seem to be visible in Mary. These include: • Loss of self-confidence or self-esteem • Social withdrawl or a loss of interest or enthusiasm • Depression • Desperately seeks affection • Difficulty establishing or maintaining relationships • Challenges with intimacy and trust • Inability to cope with stress and frustrations • Seeming fearful • Seeming anxious to please the abuser And some characteristics of abusers/abusive relationships that I see in OPB & Mary (from Healthline, which is for the most part pretty reliable, minus the occasional pseudoscience article lmao): • Name-Calling • Sarcasm & Belittling • Threats • Orders • Walking out in social situations, and therefore leaving you with all the pressure • Trivializing & making excuses for their behavior • Interrupting • Cutting you off from others or society in general, directly or indirectly All of this sounds pretty damn familiar, right? "And I have no friends, no, never go anywhere," "Insolent girl!" "Bring me my slippers! Bring me my wine!" And from the Off-Broadway: "Silence!," etc. Okay, let's analyze more thoroughly, now that we have some basics down. Mary's anxiety and tension is through the roof from the minute we meet her. (Fun fact, costume designer Paloma Young said that the numerous buttons on Mary's dress represent her anxiety and the urge to fiddle) Mary's general personality and emotions are pretty easy to understand right away. Anxious, caring, socially awkward, and most of all, lonely. Which she talks about a lot. Which she wouldn't do, if it didn't bother her. She desperately wants a friend or a spouse, somebody to care about her. Though that latter is probably moreso the only way to escape her current predicament. "And I have no friends, no, never go anywhere," for example. We also have the line "Will I ever be happy? Will I ever be anyone's wife?" Which almost ties the two statements together, equating happiness with being somebody's wife, and therefore escaping her situation. So, if she's so desperate for somebody to be friends with, why does she judge Natasha so hastily? Well, there's a few reasons. First off, she knows her father doesn't like Natasha, and she's been conditioned her whole life to always agree with what he says. There's also Mary's intense jealousy of her. Natasha has always been adored by everyone, including Mary's own brother, who seems not to care about his sister very much. There's also the possibility that Mary just wants Natasha out as fast as possible, to avoid her father becoming angrier, which would most likely be taken out on her. It's also important to take into account that Mary probably doesn't know how to even MAKE friends, considering she's been cut off from society for so long. Her strained and anxious "oh. Oh hello. Won't you come in?" Conveys that pretty well. Then, we have the commanding. It's relatively normal for parents to tell their children to do things, but OPB is so fucking order-y about it, with the "Bring me my slippers!" and "Bring me my wine!" And shit. And even worse, the off-broadway recording includes "Silence! Silence!" And "You shut your damn mouth girl, Shut your damn mouth, I can hurt you!" Also found in the off-broadway recording, Mary says "He could beat me, or treat me like a dog. Make me fetch wood or water, and it's just how it is. Oh father, I love you father" OPB also has a tendency to make his daughter feel like she's the one at fault, or she's the one who's being bad to him, which is one

of the biggest characteristics of abuse. We have "This is just how it is, It's just how he is, I'm always to blame," and of course the "I disgust myself" from the end of the song. "This is just how he is," plays a significant role here, too. Mary's in a constant internal struggle between being angry at her father, and being angry at herself while she makes excuses for him like "He is a tired old man and must be forgiven." She tells herself that she's the one at fault here, no doubt because that's what she's always been told. "He is old and feeble, and I dare to judge him." On the other side of that, there's the anger that comes out occasionally. One of the most telling moments between Mary & OPB is the whole "I can hurt you" bit. OPB says it first, threatening her. (possibly something he's carried out before?) Then they both say it together, and then Mary's "but I never, ever, ever, ever would! No, father, I love you, father." What I'm seeing is Mary trying to retaliate against the first "I can hurt you," but simultaneously getting scared back into submission by her father. Her reaction is to immediately take it back, and then offer her love to show that she isn't an enemy. Also, if you watch her on stage, during the "Never, ever, ever, ever"s she's looking around at the audience, a little panicked, and almost rushing to tell them that she didn't mean it. Shifting gears slightly, we're now gonna look at how Mary feels trapped. Her constant mentions of both time and loneliness show that she feels powerless and unable to escape her situation. Even from the very first time she says anything in the story: "But besides the couple of hours during which we have guests, there are also twenty-two hours in the day." That's oddly specific, isn't it? I mean I know how math works, a couple + 22 = 24, but still. Mary seems to be acutely aware of time and it's passing. The feeling like she's running out of time heightens her anxiety, because the older she gets, the less appealing she'll be to suitors, and therefore less likely to get married, and therefore much less likely to get out of her situation. OPB also seems to be purposefully scaring off suitors so that she has no chance of getting away in a socially acceptable manner. Mary also doesn't seem to be getting any support from her brother either. When Andrey comes home near the end of the show, Mary is onstage, waiting for him. She stands up to greet him, but instead he just pushes past her to sit on their father's chair. The fuck, dude? Anyway, that about wraps everything up. Overall, I've come to the conclusion that Old Prince Bolkonsky can suck a dick, and Mary deserves none of this shit. Hope you enjoyed! I worked really hard on this one. This week's topics will be posted in a bit!

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Fruity

Summary: Being personal security for the president, Laxus always had to be alert, particularly in a foreign country. This would be fine, if it weren't for the beautiful waiter who kept catching his eye at every moment.

Notes: This is for day five of Fraxus Week 2021. As normal, check out @fuckyeahfraxus for more content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

From the Fields of Italy

Year: 1922

Location: Rome, Italy

Dissasosaition was a key part of Laxus' job. Being a member of the President's personal security team meant he was privy to multiple private and politically significant conversations. Debates, arguments, and compromises would be made in front of him, and he would learn things that a man of his station had no right knowing. Another man might have taken the opportunity to eavesdrop, but Laxus cared little for that. His entire focus was to be on protecting his charge, and as such the politics were unimportant.

Particularly when the dick seemed to stand against everything Laxus cared about.

It had become necessary to learn to focus on other things. Counting the bricks on a nearby building, watching as people passed by, and sometimes going so far as to make up little rhymes and brain teasers in his head. It all allowed him to drown out the bullshit the president was talking about, and better do his job.

Of course, he did focus. Anyone approaching the president was immediately a danger, and Laxus had to watch every move they made, particularly when they were out of country. When Laxus had been told that the president would be undergoing a European tour to better connect with the other countries now that the war was long over, he had known it would be difficult. Anyone might take issue with the president's international opinions, and as such Laxus needed to be wary of everyone near him.

This would have been acceptable – it was his job, after all – but an issue had arisen. The waiter.

The beautiful waiter

Even thinking of the man as beautiful was unprofessional. Laxus was there to do a job, not indulge in his own interests. It was why he'd been consistently given small rooms, cheap and uncomfortable seats in the flight, and little to no respect from his employers. He was there to do a job, not to enjoy himself.

But there was something about the man that was alluring. He was of a good height, with slighter features than Laxus' own but strong in his own sense. His skin had the slight tan that came with the European sun, and a single mark below his eye was the only break from perfect symmetry. His long hair swished down his back in long, silky strands, and Laxus had found himself wondering what it would feel like to run his hand through.

The man was serving the president, who didn't give him a second glance. He brought water, food, and cutlery without making his presence known, and yet Laxus was transfixed. He was quietly elegant in his movements, walking with the slightest sway and it felt like he was dancing around the room with each step.

How was nobody else being affected by this?

Maybe they were, and just hid it. That's what Laxus was forced to do. He stood as part of a circle of six, allowing the president to eat safely in the public restaurant. No doubt the people around them posed no actual threat; even if the stop in the restaurant looked impromptu, it had been planned months in advance and no doubt all the people had booked upon hearing it, and had been checked over time and time again. It was all for show; just a gentle reminder that, although the Italian people might not be pleased about the president's actions during the war, they couldn't do anything about it. They needed to look stone faced and intimidating.

The waiter wasn't at all intimidated. He was completely uncaring towards the fact the president was before him, and instead acted as though he was any other customer. He'd even asked the president a question directly, and was unblinking at the glare he was given for his rudeness.

Watching the man was like watching a show. Laxus just didn't know how it would end.

By the time, the main course had been brought out, Laxus had regained his focus. He was there to protect the man sitting and eating, not to be quietly fascinated by the man who was bringing him his food. Laxus got passing fancies on men often, it was natural given his inclination for men and the inability to actually follow through on anything because of his duties. This was no more than seeing a man he would like to dance with at a club. The waiter just had the unfamiliar addition of not being American, and therefore felt somewhat exotic.

He'd told himself that, and convinced himself it was true, until the desserts were brought out. The waiter placed them before the president and his party and, just as he turned to return to the kitchen, he looked to Laxus and smiled.

Laxus felt like he'd been struck.

No smile had affected him, not in any way. Laxus was hardly a romantic person, and the idea that someone might smile at you and turn your world around was overly sweetened crap written in books to appeal to lonely people. But as the waiter looked at him for just the smallest of moments, hair falling across his face slightly as his white teeth split apart, he felt nauseous and ignited all at once. He couldn't think of any other way to describe it.

The man went back to the kitchen, and Laxus knew his stance had wavered and his concentration gone. For a moment he stood in a gaping silence, wanting to both flee the scene and to storm into the kitchen to demand an explanation for what had happened. Instead, he caught the eye of his commander, who glared him back to attention.

He just had to ignore the waiter. Push him to the back of his mind, and within the hour he'd be gone.

---

"What are you eating?"

The words were a silky-smooth sensation, and deeply Italian. Laxus took a moment to realise that he was being addressed, and turned with the smallest of frowns to see who had spoken to him. He was alone, and he certainly didn't know anyone who spoke in such a chocolatey accent. Nobody on his team had even half the rumbling baritone, and he found himself wondering who that voice would belong to.

When he turned and saw the waiter, he froze.

How was the man here? It was the evening now, and Laxus was nowhere near the restaurant the waiter worked at. He was somewhere tucked away, not in the tourist areas of the city but not exactly near the residential areas. He supposed this was where a pretentious man might call the 'Real Italy.' Did the man live here?

Before he could fall into questions, he realised what the waiter had asked. He looked down to the chalky lettuce and cheese sandwich he'd been given for his evening meal, then back to the man who was frowning at him.

"A sandwich," Laxus said, because what else could he say.

"A sandwich," The waiter parroted.

"Yes."

"You realise that you're insulting everyone from my country by eating that here, don't you?"

"If you wanna take it up with my commander, feel free."

"You could not buy something more respectable?"

"Not allowed to carry money around."

Why was he talking with the man? Well, he knew at least in part it was because he had been truly spellbound by the man, and the revelation of his incredible voice had only further added to the man's majesty. Laxus was not one to shy away from strong emotions – not that he felt them often – and he wasn't going to cower now that an opportunity had presented itself to him. But why were they talking about his dinner?

The man, in the dimming sun, looked radiant. He still wore the uniform of the restaurant, but his hair hung loose now, and he seemed more relaxed. Now, without the need to watch his charge, Laxus could see the sharp cut of the man's jaw and the deceptive fragility of his skin. He truly was beautiful.

"That is ridiculous, and certainly not acceptable," The waiter sounded affronted. "Come."

Laxus processed the demand a moment later, and found himself following him before he could think. Both survival instincts and training deemed this a stupid idea – he was following a total stranger through an unfamiliar city – and yet he did it anyway. The man had authority, and Laxus had been attracted by it.

"I would have thought you'd be looking after that repulsive man you deemed fit to lead you," The waiter commented when Laxus was in step with him. So he had remembered Laxus then; he hadn't been sure.

"Night off," Laxus shrugged. "And I don't think he's fit to lead. But the vote said that he was."

"And yet you still serve him?"

"It's a living."

"Hardly seems like living when you're leaning against a building eating bread and cheese because of your commander while in a cultural monolith known for its delicacies," The man hummed aloud, turning a corner, and increasing his pace. "In my mind, that it more a way to get money than a way to live."

"It is what it is."

"Your employer ate at a lavish restaurant, had four courses and larger servings than normal," The man shrugged. "It was expensive. The money could have been diverted from him to you."

"That's not how it works."

The waiter didn't say anything after that. He kept walking, and Laxus kept following.

Eventually, an open-air marketplace appeared, and the waiter walked directly towards it. Laxus kept in pace, allowing himself to be guided through the vendors who shouted for their attention and custom. Laxus' Italian was bad at best, and so the shouting merged into a mess of unfamiliar slang, and so he let the waiter take the lead completely. He spoke to vendors, passers-by, and did so with beautifully fluent Italian. Logically Laxus knew that would be the case – the man was Italian for god's sake – but it was beautiful to hear.

Quickly, they were at the other end of the market, and the waiter had accrued a hamper of food and a bottle of wine. He'd paid for it all himself and, as their conversation hadn't continued, Laxus found himself wondering where his place in the situation was. Still, he followed.

"Sit," The waiter said again, motioning to a small stone wall overlooking a stream.

"You're demanding," Laxus commented, but he did sit.

"And you work a job where you follow orders of a man you don't like, so I suspect it won't bother you," The waiter sat on the wall also, and placed the hamper between them. "My name is Freed. What's yours?"

"Laxus."

"It's strong," Freed commented, unwrapping some of the food from the hamper. He made a gesture towards the food as he uncorked the wine. "Eat."

"What?"

"Eat."

Laxus looked down to the hamper of food. It was filled mainly with fresh and colourful looking fruit, but also wrapped packets of cheese, biscuits and two small pastries. He hesitated for a moment, and glanced up towards Freed. The man was looking at him with a peculiar mix of intensity and patience, and Laxus felt himself flushing slightly as he reached into the hamper and tentatively picked up a strawberry. Freed waited patiently, watching Laxus as he slowly brought the strawberry to his lips and bit into it.

Well, he certainly didn't expect it to taste quite so… vibrant.

Apparently, his expression must have betrayed his shock, as Freed laughed openly. Laxus wanted to glare, but instead found himself hypnotised as Freed lifted the opened wine to his lips and drank straight from the bottle. Good god, did the man know what he was doing to Laxus?

"You must have travelled a lot over the past few weeks," Freed stated, reaching into the hamper, and pulling out the wrapped cheese. He pulled out a chunk of it, crumbled it and placed it onto a cracker. He then picked up a single grape, placed it atop the cheese and ate it. Laxus found himself following the movement of his neck as Freed swallowed.

"Suppose so," Laxus nodded.

"Anywhere particularly interesting to you?"

"Not really," Laxus replied. He hesitated for a moment, then looked down to the hamper of food and pulled out an apple. He bit into it before he could second-guess himself. "It's my second night off since we landed, and the first night was at a docking town so hardly beautiful."

"Good," Freed commented. "Rome will look rather good in comparison then."

"So far, yeah."

"Perhaps one day you will return as a tourist?"

"Doubt it, can't afford it."

"Shame," Freed hummed, looking towards Laxus with the same beautiful smile that sent a flicker through Laxus' spine. "You should make the most of your night here."

"Suppose I should."

They were quiet, and Laxus could feel Freed's eyes roaming over him unapologetically. Laxus didn't do anything to stop it, and instead took a bite of his apple and allowed the man's eyes to wander. He might have tensed his bicep when he knew Freed was looking at his arms, and Freed laughed but made no complaint.

He looked beautiful when he laughed and Laxus wondered how he could get better. He was quickly answered because what Freed did made him radiant.

It was nothing, really. He simply had taken one of the large peaches that he'd brought and bit into it. That was hardly anything, and yet it made Laxus' stomach churn. The way the mans eyes closed, the way his teeth closed around the fruit, the way the juice seemed to intentionally drip down his throat, coating it in an indescribable sheen of fruit-flavoured droplets that reflected the flickering lights surrounding them.

When Freed's eyes opened again, he looked directly to Laxus. He paused for a moment, eyes scanning Laxus' face, before he grinned a little. It was a private sight, and Laxus found himself copying the expression.

"As I said," Freed spoke again, voice quieter. "Make the most of it while you're here."

Laxus didn't need to be told twice. He leant forward and pressed their lips together, the tantalising taste of fruit and cheese melding as they leant into one another. Laxus did what he'd wanted to do the moment he saw Freed, and wrapped a hand deep into his hair, and slowly began to stroke it as he leant into the man. Freed groaned slightly, tilting his chin, and kissing him deeper.

He didn't care that someone might see him, it didn't matter. He was in an unknown city from a foreign country where nobody knew him, and he would indulge himself. He would take what he wanted, and delight in the company of this beautiful man and take whatever he would be given.

He deserved this, and if nothing else, he would always have the memory of kissing the enchantingly handsome man. An untainted memory for him to cherish.

[fxreverfame]

Kai Anderson

information provided by : [xxx]

Kai Anderson is a cult leader from a Michigan suburb. He is a character in Cult portrayed by Evan Peters. Before he was radicalized by personal trauma, he was a typical internet troll who hadn't realized yet the power in manipulating emotions. His following was known as FIT, which expanded as he continued reeling in new recruits with his gifted charisma. What Kai started as a small group of locals had metastasized as he became increasingly prolific in the political media. He was hellbent on spreading chaos to take over the world, only to have his ego be his ultimate undoing.

Background

In 2014, Kai returned home after getting a degree in religious studies. His father was a lawyer who was injured in a motorcycle accident and was paralyzed from the waist down. This caused him to abuse his wife and accuse her of an affair. He is also seen verbally abusing Kai. He spent of his time there alone, lurking on website such as r/RedPill on his laptop.

Kai states that before the accident his father was firm but fair with them and his mother. One night Kai hears muffled arguing and gunshots. He finds that his mother, no longer able to stand the abuse and accusations, has shot his father she then turns the gun on herself and pulls the trigger in front of Kai. Clearly in shock, Kai calls his older brother, Dr. Rudy Vincent, who convinces Kai that the best course of action is to cover up the murder-suicide. He reasons that they will have to sell the house and that their sister Winter will not be able to finish college due to the loss of their parents' income. He has also just started his practice and doesn't want to explain to clients that his parents murdered each other. After locking pinkies, they put their parents' bodies in bed, cover them with lye, padlock the door and leave them to decompose.

When Kai asked what he should say to Winter, Vin tells him to wait and tell her when she returns home for Thanksgiving. When Winter returns home she is understandably upset that they have kept their parents' deaths from her. She threatens to turn them in but Kai uses Vin's logic on her saying who will pay for Vasser. Three years later and the bodies are still in the house. Kai admits to Beverly that he still talks to his mom. Despite their status, he still talked to his mother's decomposing body, usually holding her hand. He also talked to the corpse of his father, still blaming him for what happened and that he gets pleasure from watching him decompose. At one later point in the season he promises his mothers rotting corpse that he will become something for her.

Sometime after the horrific death of his parents, him and his sister both fall of the deep end. They both practically live in their basement, where they spend most of their time venturing on the dark web trolling alt-right extremists, often posing online as one of them. They'd test the limits of how crazy these extremists could be by proclaiming beliefs they'd pretend to have as part of acting their role. One night while doing this, an ad popped up for "Pastor Charles Judgement House." It's an evangelical hell house, led by the crazed Pastor Charles.

On Election Night, Kai walks in on a bound Gary Longstreet urging him not to scream too loud in his current predicament lest he attracts the wrong kind of attention. Kai manipulates and riles the humiliated man up and convinces him to sever his own hand with a saw so he'd be able to cast his vote. Kai accompanies the injured Gary to their local voting booth. He watches with some amount of glee as Gary shouts: "Welcome to Trump's America, motherfuckers!".

After Election Night, Kai begins drawing all kinds of people to him. He requests Harrison Wilton as his personal trainer and calls him strong. Kai is quick to point out the humiliating aspect of Harrison's work situation: being constantly humiliated by his boss, Vinny, for being gay. He wins Harrison over by advising him to reject labels and promises to always be there for him no matter their differences. After Kai's first session with Harrison, Kai masturbates in the gym shower and lures Harrison in to watch him. As his sessions with Harrison are ending, Kai notices that his trainer sounds a lot like Vinny. When confronted Harrison almost tearfully admits that his life is in tatters, that he's nobody going nowhere. Kai convinces his first devotee that 'nowhere' is the ideal jumping off point. That night Kai assists Harrison in murdering Vinny and disposing of any evidence linking them to the crime. Meadow walks in on the pair of them dismembering Vinny's corpse. Kai is able to sway Meadow to his side by praising her artistic abilities (designing eerie ghoulish clown masks) to the sky.

Kai becomes interested in news reporter Beverly Hope. He discovers that after repeated live 'pussy grabbing' taunts Beverly assaulted one of her hecklers and was forced to seek psychiatric counseling. He catches the frustrated reporter slashing a rival's tires and advises her on how to do it more efficiently. Kai invites Beverly to dinner and impresses her by accurately stating her problems. The aspiring leader next explains his philosophy to Beverly and offers to make her his spokesperson and partner. Realizing that as a reporter Beverly requires proof, not just words Kai requests a few days to deliver said proof. After having seen footage of her hated rival Serena Belinda's gory demise, Beverly realizes that Kai made it happen. The rage-filled reporter seeks Kai out and proclaims she's ready to believe in him. Kai hugs Beverly close and once again promises her an equal partnership.

Personality and Appearance

Prior to his parents' gruesome deaths, Kai appeared to function normally and was, by society's standards, an average teenager. After witnessing his mother and father's murder-suicide, and then the Biblically-motivated violence of Pastor Charles, Kai snapped and became mentally unstable, obsessed with the lust for power. By the events of Cult, he is 30 years old and has shoulder-length hair dyed blue, which he sometimes ties back in a bun. He appears to be very muscular and has a lean build sporting toned abs and biceps. He is fair-skinned and frequently switches between the attire of a cult leader and, when in the face of the public, the suit of a professional councilman.

Embodying a terrifying blend of toxic masculinity and manipulative charisma, Kai is obsessed with the concept of fear and aspires to use it to manipulate people. He states in his speech that his desire is to release chaos to achieve change, suggesting he is delusional. He is noted for holding the mentality that "not everyone can be saved", and that in order for the world to flourish and regrow, "the world should be burned down to rebuild another one".

Kai tested as a genius when he was a young child and was invited to join Mensa, but declined because, according to him, he was also very troubled. This would appear to be true, as Kai has demonstrated all the signs of a sociopath: he is extremely manipulative and charming, is devoid of a moral compass or a conscience, and has absolutely no feelings of empathy or remorse towards other people. He appears to lack fear, as evidenced by when he harassed several Latin-American workers on the street in order to intentionally be beaten by them, employing Harrison and Meadow Wilton to record the inciting violence as a means of furthering his political agenda, which revolved around gaining the racially motivated fear of the public. Despite this, he is described by his sister as having severe paranoia - a fact supported by Kai's exceeding detachment from reality and inability to distinguish between what are his hallucinations or actual people, including seeing and communicating with visions of other cult figures in history, such as Charles Manson.

His harassment towards ethnic minorities and the LGBTQ community are incisive elements for him being perceived as a racist and homophobe, although it is not entirely clear whether he is actually biased against them, or just exploits pre-existing prejudices and tensions to create chaos in the surrounding environment. He is, however, openly misogynistic, viewing women as inferior to men, and holds the belief that they are incapable of holding places of power and importance in society. Despite this, he has displayed a sexual interest in both males and females, though it is unclear if he is actually attracted to them or just uses sexual orientations as a means to further entrance others into following his deranged viewpoints. He intentionally masturbated in front of Harrison Wilton in a gym shower as a means of attracting him to join his cult, and later shared a one-night-stand with Detective Samuels for the same reasons, who he was able to convince that "sex with men is better than with any woman"; additionally, he describes Samuels to his sister as being "quite attractive". Interestingly enough, he is responsible for neither of these men's deaths, unlike other members of his cult that he directly targeted.

Kai may be aroused by the concept of incest, as he attempted a threesome between himself, his sister, and Samuels as a means of giving birth to a "Messiah baby". After Samuel's inability to become aroused by the situation and his sister's refusal to partake in the act, Kai has since come to believe that his son is Oz Mayfair-Richards (per the influence of Ally Mayfair-Richards, who has fed him this lie as a means of self-preservation).

Story

Kai was watching the 2016 election alone in his basement and was delighted by the news of Trump's victory, while his sister Winter was devastated by it, having worked for Clinton's campaign. Kai went to Winter's room to gloat about the win and they proceed to lock pinkies.

Later, Kai attended a city council meeting, which Mr. Chang serves on, about security for the local Jewish community center. Kai states his objections, talking about using fear to control people, though the council disagrees with him and the motion is passed. Kai is later seen harassing a group of Hispanic men on the streets by filling a condom with his urine and throwing it at the men while yelling racist slurs. The men beat Kai up while an unknown person records it.

After his vicious beating Kai, wearing a suit and an endearing armbrace is interviewed by various reporters in front of city hall, as he intends to propose himself as a city councilor. The Trump supporter is quick to point the finger at those 'dangerous illegal immigrants' for his mishap and further stokes the fires of ignorance and hatred. Later Kai just happens to show up at Ally's newly fortified house. Sensing that she's very uneasy he does his best to augment the woman's sense of unease even more.

Kai shared a moment of kindness with Ally as she was attacked by protesters outside her restaurant, stating how he took care of her as promised. Subsequently, Kai recruited both Meadow and Harrison Wilton, performing the pinky ritual with each of them individually. The young man spurred the couple to reveal their deepest fears and desires, but not before unleashing his own anger on Meadow, accusing the woman of wasting his time. Kai Anderson is sent to jail as Ally submitted him to the SWAT team. Kai recruited a fellow inmate and used him to simulate himself and escape prison. Kai then visits Ally Mayfair-Richards at her senate campaign, only to be shot by Beverly.

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Twenty: Respite

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Twenty: Respite

Note: Wow. Chapter twenty and were probably only half way through this fic! It's been a blast so far, and I'd like to take a moment to say thank you for forty total chapters and just shy of 150k words so far in this series. And to top it off, DMC5SE is coming in the future?! What a time to be alive and part of the DMC community! (unless you're on pc like me because screw us, I guess. At least we get Vergil, but still). Thanks for coming along for the ride so far! I hope it's been worth it. A metaphorical toast to the first twenty and here's to twenty more!

(-~-)

Dinner had gone relatively well, all things considered.

Finding a restaurant that was willing to accommodate such a large group had been a respectable challenge, but in the end they settled on a small outdoor establishment. While they had to push two tables together in order to sit as a group, it had all worked out just fine in the end.

While the vast majority of the conversation that took place was between Patty, Nero, and the other girls, Dante occasionally joined in with a few witty rejoinders of his own, normally at Vergil's expense. V simply attended the dinner, eating quietly and mostly keeping to himself. Despite the fact that he had agreed to attend dinner, it was due more to a sense of personal obligation than anything else. He'd be lying if he said that he had been very hungry. The events at the beach had basically annihilated his appetite.

Once back at the hotel, everyone was more than ready to turn in for the night. There were still two days left on their trip, and everyone was eager to have a chance to explore the town and experience everything it had to offer. Well, at least for the most part. Kyrie was certain that she wanted to go back to the beach, at least for a few hours. She'd enjoyed herself in the bathing suit they had picked out for her, and she was going to take every opportunity that she could to wear it. Doing so in Fortuna would be a bit… scandalous. Through no fault of her own, she simply had the misfortune to live in a place that was more than a bit old fashioned, especially when it came to the way people were expected to dress. Most of them had probably never seen a bathing suit before.

As the group was going their separate ways in the lobby, Nero stretched and rubbed his eyes slightly, garnering a similar response from V who substituted stretching for a badly concealed yawn. He seemed painfully aware of how everyone was looking at him for trying to do so. Who tried to conceal a yawn?

Much to V's relief, Vergil broke the silence between them, seemingly unwilling to stand around the entire night and watch everyone watch everyone else. He stepped forward, his arms folded around himself as he glanced in the direction of the children. The oldest child, Julio, seemed more than ready to go to bed; now sufficiently tired and unwilling to stay up much longer. Kyle wasn't much better. He seemed to be just a few minutes shy of falling asleep on his feet, swaying back and forth as he blinked heavily. Carlo on the other hand was still just as full of energy as he always was. While he wasn't exactly hyper, the abundance of other people around to provide attention to him wasn't something he was willing to overlook. But as always, he gravitated towards those he knew best and chose to linger close to Nero and V, a decision that put him in the middle of their walking path and made him nearly impossible to overlook.

Honestly, his eagerness to hug the legs of everyone in the lobby was adorable, something that Vergil had experienced first hand himself earlier that day. The small child stopped darting between Kyrie and Nero's legs and stole an occasional glance at the much taller man, earning him a curious look and resulting in a few playful giggles. Vergil sighed. This was going to be a long night. While he found the child's behavior… typical for someone his age, for perhaps the first time since his return from the underworld, he felt an immense desire to simply go to sleep for the night. He didn't feel like fighting a small child the entire night to do so. But he wasn't backing down from his agreement, either. As far as he was concerned, that would be just as bad, if not worse, than simply refusing to do so in the first place.

"... Is he always like this," Vergil said as Carlo darted away from Nero and over towards V. The summoner in question was leaned against a nearby wall, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to disappear up the stairs and into the waiting blankets of his bed. The oldest Son of Sparda could only assume that Dante was going to be voted out of the bed due to a combination of his oldest son's inability to sleep on a couch that small and his youngest son's inevitable refusal to do so. Part of him was honestly irritated that he wouldn't be there to watch him suffer pointlessly, but the other part of him that didn't participate in such petty foolishness was actually glad that he probably wouldn't have to share a bed with any of them. Despite the undeniable closeness of their blood relation to one another, if anyone so much as bumped him in his sleep, they were likely to be skinned alive. That would be terribly inconsiderate towards the cleaning staff come mourning.

V shared a glance at Carlo, seemingly taking a moment to assess the room. Once sufficiently sure that no one was watching him, V took the opportunity to fluff the small boy's head and pat him on the shoulder, earning him a leg hug before he ushered the excited child back towards the rest of his family. Vergil couldn't help but notice the level of peace that seemed to wash over him as he watched the little one toddle back across the room, the young summoner seemingly pleased by the attention that Carlo always made time to show him. Where else was he going to obtain such high quality hugs from? Certainly not from Vergil. Maybe Nero? Dante would probably humor him, but he'd make it as uncomfortable and lengthy as possible. That was simply the way he was.

It was an interesting revelation to him that V was so good with Nero's children. He'd seen him interacting with them at the beach earlier that day, critiquing their little sand castles and pretending to be thoroughly impressed. He'd even shared one of his snacks with Kyle and allowed Julio to take shelter from the heat under his umbrella, ignoring the sopping wet mess he'd made out of the beach towel he'd brought to relax on. It was a wonder to him that someone who didn't have any children was so at ease interacting with them. For a moment, he considered the idea that he'd been involved with them to some extent in the past, but dismissed the notion. V wasn't very adept at social interactions with anyone. He just seemed to have a soft spot for Nero's children.

Perhaps if he wasn't so perpetually single…

Vergil's thoughts returned to the matter at hand. He had no reason to dwell on what V decided to do with his personal life. While an observation was perfectly fine with him, dwelling on things he had no say in and no influence over was futile. He would return to his current obligations and leave his consideration for V's crushing and no doubt ceaseless loneliness for another time. If that kind of future was in the cards for him, then he would cross that bridge when he got to it. Vergil himself had never planned to…

He needed to find something to force him to keep his mind on the trial he'd forced himself to undergo. Perhaps proving to Nero that he wasn't entirely awful would gain him some sort of footing in their future conversations. At the very least he hoped that it would alleviate some of the hostility between them. While they were indeed talking now, he couldn't help but notice that Nero made a point of constantly calling him out on his shortcomings. While he wasn't foolish enough to believe that he didn't have that much coming, he dared to allow himself to be optimistic about the possibility that there could be more to their relationship in the future. 

Truly, he wanted Nero to attempt to talk to him in much the same way that V did. He'd proved that he had the capacity to do so in the lobby of the hotel earlier that evening before Dante had interrupted them. As much as he loathed delving into his emotions and the scars and misadventures of his past, he knew that doing so was inevitable if he had any hope of Nero actually moving past his current feeling towards him. The Darkslayer knew that this was a test. It was the first one Nero had bequeathed him, even if he had done so as an extension of V's request. And he had no intention of letting both of his sons think any less of him than he imagined they already did. Such negativity was how they had arrived at such a dark and painful place to start with…

"Yea, basically. He's not really hyper, but he asks a lot of questions," Nero said as Carlo tucked himself under his legs and giggled senselessly. Nero shook his head and reached down to snatch the small boy off of his feet and into his arms, finally ending his wild behavior." Kyle and Julio are basically dead on their feet, so I don't think they are going to put up much of a fight. That and they are probably not excited about sharing a room with a person they know can toss someone halfway across a beach with one hand."

Vergil didn't miss the slight glare that accompanied that statement. Nero wasn't over that yet, it seemed. Apparently Dante was quicker to let that sort of thing go than his son was. Then again, they regularly impaled one another and attempted to render one another invalid, so they were not the best role models in that regard.

Kyle and Julio stumbled over sleepily, seemingly more than ready to find out why they were not in bed yet. All the conversation going on between the adults in the lobby was exceedingly dull to them, especially when all they wanted to do was flop down into a soft bed and take a trip to dreamland.

"Can we go to bed now," Julio asked as he tugged at Nero's sleeve, his best pleading look spread across his face. He was in no mood for this." I'm tired and so is Kyle."

Kyle said nothing, still skirting the line between acute sleep deprivation and face-planting on the floor in a fully comatose state. He seemed to register that they were talking, but couldn't care less about what they were discussing. If it didn't have to do with sleeping, it was of no interest to him.

Nero gestured towards Vergil with a tilt of his head, obviously agreeing that it was time for them to turn in for the night. "You're going with Vergil. Don't give him a hard time."

The oldest of the three young boys pivoted slowly towards Vergil, giving him a sideways look before turning back to Nero with an almost concerned look. He clearly wasn't sure how he felt about the change in arrangements. After a moment, he sighed and yawned sleepily. His body and the adults had made the decision for him. With a conformation glance at his little brother Kyle who only shrugged in disinterest, he glanced back up at Vergil again and rubbed his eyes sleepily.

"I guess we're okay. I just wanna go to sleep."

Vergil didn't think he'd ever agree with a five year old, but life was strange sometimes.

Without warning, Nero hoisted Carlo into Vergil’s unsuspecting arms, sufficiently taking the older demon slayer by surprise. Vergil received the giggling boy, but shot his son a conflicted glance, eyebrow raised. He hadn’t signed up to be slobbered on.

“Yea, you're gonna want to carry him upstairs. He has a hard time with stairs.” Nero said, taking a few steps towards V. He was warming up to the idea of going to sleep, especially after seeing his older sibling yawn yet again. V seemed to be lingering in the lobby out of courtesy.

Vergil held the small child up under the arms, looking at him as though he were a wet puppy who had just tracked mud through the house. Carlo continued to giggle to himself, reaching his short arm out to boop Vergil on the nose. The blue devil blinked in momentary disbelief before closing his eyes and shaking his head slightly. This was going to be a long night.

(-~-)

"Goodnight friend! I'm gonna sleep now. Bye bye!"

Vergil cursed every fiber in his body, both human and demon, that this child had so much energy. He was starting to wonder sarcastically if he'd dodged a bullet by not being present during either of his children's childhoods. Well, at least Nero's. If V's current personality was anything to go by, he was probably an easy child to handle. Nero on the other hand was probably much like this boy. Insatiable and unwilling to let him rest regardless of his level of willingness to compromise with him.

First, he'd tried talking to him when he'd started asking him a million unintelligible questions. Then he'd carved out of a desperate desire to sleep and allowed the child to sleep at the foot of his bed like he'd been so keen to do, a compromise that he was now totally regretting due to the fact that the little boy couldn't seem to stay still. Nero possessed far more patience than he had originally figured, and he was slightly horrified to see just how little he possessed himself. Had that been the point of this entire endeavor? To make him suffer in the same way that he had made them suffer himself? If so, it was definitely working because he was about two seconds from throwing himself out for the window to the cold embrace of the pavement and perhaps finally some form of rest.

Unfortunately death had never allowed him to escape his problems, so he wasn't sure how well that plan would work out. For now, he seemed to be stuck with the hell he'd made for himself. And he was not the least bit pleased. Somehow sleep always eluded him when he actually wanted it, but this was another thing entirely. Never before had a creature so small had such a profound ability to drive him absolutely insane. He couldn't help but shake his head slightly at the moment of clarity that overtook him at the realization that his must have been what his own parents felt like when they had been forced to grapple with him and his trouble-making twin as children. How they had ever kept their composure and not carted them both off to some remote tropical island in a produce crate to be eaten by wild animals was beyond him.

And yet, he couldn't bring himself to be angry at the child.

It was truly strange, but he just couldn't.

While he'd been laying there questioning what crime he had committed that had cursed him in such a manner, little Carlo had clambered up towards the head of the bed and flopped down next to him, taking the opportunity to try and tuck in his little stuffed animal. Vergil hadn't noticed the type of animal that it was, but he knew that it was half as big as the child that owned it, and he apparently refused to sleep without it. Due to the attack on their house just a few months ago that he himself had perpetrated, the little boy was scared to sleep without something to keep him company. The stuffed bear had apparently been a gift from Kyrie to help ease his fears.

Perhaps it was guilt from the fact that he had emotionally scarred a child that was just shy of three years old. Maybe it was the exhaustion setting in. Or maybe, just maybe Vergil had come to the realization that he just couldn't be bothered to combat the child any further and had finally met an opponent that he couldn't defeat. It didn't matter anymore. Carlo had won, and Vergil was going to have to tolerate the tiny child hugging him the entire night like he was an especially long body pillow. He could only hope that he didn't snore or drool, otherwise he just might stab himself.

And he couldn't even find it in himself to be angry.

There was a part of Vergil that wanted to laugh at how preposterous the entire situation was to him. He, the legendary Darkslayer and oldest son to the Great Dark Knight Sparda; usurper to the demon throne and defier of death itself… was but a plaything in the hands of an infant. And for some horrifying reason that he couldn't even begin to care about, he was entirely content with that fact. How had things taken such a drastic turn?

The entire point was moot. He would worry about it in the morning after he returned the little usurper to his legal guardians. His bed might be a bit less cold and might contain fewer pairs of stray socks, but he was sure he would survive. After all, he'd been through much worse. He was willing to tolerate the actions of an adorable curly haired child, at least for one night.

(-~-)

Wow, this chapter was so fun to write! Thanks a bunch for that comment about Vergil spending time with his grandchildren, Rawrbox! It led to such a fun writing experience! I actually strapped the original version of this chapter and chose to go with this. RIP the extra 600 words that I’d written before I read your comment! I hope everyone has a good day, and I’ll see you again on Friday! 

[bhuwank]

WHAT ARE THE NEGATIVE EFFECTS OF STRESS?

In prehistoric times, the physical changes in response to stress were an essential adaptation for meeting natural threats. Even in the modern world, the stress response can be an asset for raising levels of performance during critical events such as a sport activity, an important meeting, or in situations of actual danger or crisis. If stress becomes persistent and low level, however, all parts of the body’s stress apparatus (the brain, heart, lungs, vessels and muscles) become chronically over or under-activated. This may produce physical or psychological damage over a period of time. Acute stress can also be harmful in certain situations.

Psychological Effects of Stress: Studies suggest that the inability to adapt to stress is associated with the onset of depression or anxiety. In one study, two-thirds of subjects who experienced a stressful situation had nearly six times the risk of developing depression within that month. Some evidence suggests that repeated release of stress hormones produces hyperactivity in the hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal axis and disrupts normal levels of serotonin, the nerve chemical that is critical for feelings of well being. Certainly, on a more obvious level, stress diminishes the quality of life by reducing feelings of pleasure and accomplishment and relationships are often threatened.

 WHY STRESS HAS GONE UP IN THE LAST FIFTY YEARS? FIVE FACTORS:

Work Overload would mean that everyone has to work more and more these days. Shopping, cleaning, telephone bills, children’s study, their school, different taxes to fill, bank accounts. TV repairs, car servicing, preparing food, socializing, health check up, electricity, plumbing, making telephone calls, receiving telephone calls, learning computer, reading, writing… so much of work has to be done that leads stress to increase. Fifty years ago most of these were not there, people would have been working six to eight hours a day.

Time Overload would mean a chronic shortage of time that everybody has in this modern busy world. The volume of work has increased but the time has remained same 24 hours a day. Naturally time stress has peaked up. Most of the stresses are now because of fear of getting late.

Next is the Information Overload. People are now over burdened with information. Even a child of 4 years is not spared and he has to read four to ten books. Adults have 40 pages of Newspaper to read, 46 channels in the television and hundreds of books to go through just to keep themselves in tune with the modern world. The overloaded brain gets stressed.

Requirement Overload is another problem. Suddenly the requirement has gone up. We want fridge, TV, flats, cars, ten watches, twenty dresses, bank balance, air conditioners, costly sun glasses, ten pairs of shoes… the list is never ending. To achieve them you need to earn more, work further more and learn more. The vicious circle sets in.

The last of the overloads is the Illness Overload. Due to bad lifestyle, no exercise and excessive stress every other person seems to have a disease, which leads to further stresses. All five of them can add up together and multiply each other.

MEASUREMENT OF STRESS

How to identify a Stressed Person?                                                          

A good number of individuals we have met over the years do not agree that they are stressed.

Physical Changes                                                                    

1.       Change in facial expression

2.       Body expression

3.       Sweaty palms

4.       Cold fingers

5.       Dry mouth

6.       Shaky hands

7.       Knots in the stomach

8.       Tense muscles

9.       Frequency of urination

10.   Irregular breathing

Cognitive changes

1.       Loss of sense of humor

2.       Forgetfulness

3.       Loss of common sense

4.       Undue fear

5.       Loss of memory

6.       Lack of clear thinking

7.       Loss of creativity

8.       Making unnecessary mistakes

9.       Speaking incoherently

10.   Fumbling

 Physiologic changes

1.       Blood Pressure

2.       Heart Rate

3.       Blood Sugar

4.       Beta – waves in brain

5.       Acid secretion in stomach

6.       Muscle contraction

7.       Breathing rate

8.       Cholesterol

9.       Triglycerides

10.   HDL

Behavioral changes

1.       Social withdrawal

2.       Restlessness

3.       Smoking

4.       Tobacco

5.       Repeated stimulants intake

6.       Excessive or reduced food intake

7.       Disinterested look

8.       Reckless driving

9.       Alcoholism

10.   Nail Biting, knee, jingling

 Emotional Changes

1.       Irritability

2.       Short tempered

3.       Undue haste

4.       State of anxiety

5.       Depression

6.       Irrational fear

7.       Feeling of insecurity

8.       Undue aggression

9.       Sleeplessness

10.   Bad dreams

 Questionnaires to Measure Stress

How well do you manage your stress? How committed are you to your work and life? How much risk do you take? This quiz is a quick measure of your ability to resist stress through your use of these skills.

Score O if the statement is definitely not true for you:

1 If it is usually not true;

2 If it is somewhat true;

3 If it is definitely true.

·         When I work hard, it gives me tension.

·         Getting out of bed in the morning is easy for me.

·         I have the freedom I want and need.

·         I am willing to make sacrifices to gain exciting opportunities.

·         Sticking to my routine is not important to me.

·         I vote because I think it makes a difference.

·         You make your own lucky breaks.

·         I agree with the goals of my boss and my company.

·         I have been “lucky in love” because I try to be a loving person.

·         I believe I get what I give. But I don’t “keep score”.

·         It’s important for me to try new things.

·         Free time is a gift I really enjoy.

·         I work hard and I am paid fairly.

·         My family is a great pleasure to me.

·         I speak up for what I believe in.  

Hope you liked this blog!

This blog is written by Dr. Bimal Chhajer (Best Heart Doctor)

[junker-town]

How retired NBA players are helping each other survive the coronavirus

Spencer Haywood, Thurl Bailey, Dave Cowens are members of the National Basketball Retired Players Association.

Retired NBA players are more vulnerable to the coronavirus than active ones. Here’s what they’re doing about it.

Moments before the NBA suspended its season, Thurl Bailey was at Chesapeake Energy Arena preparing to call a game between the Utah Jazz and Oklahoma City Thunder that would never happen. It was a night like any other, until it wasn’t.

After Jazz all-star Rudy Gobert tested positive for coronavirus and the 18,000-plus person crowd was calmly instructed to exit the building, Bailey, who played in Utah for 10 seasons, was whisked off the court behind Jazz players and broadcast colleagues.

The 58-year-old recalls being led with about seven others into a lounge near the visitor’s locker room. There they sat, eyes glued to a television that was reporting their own surreal experience in real time. Jazz head coach Quin Snyder settled some of Bailey’s nerves when he walked in the room to brief everyone on the situation, as serious as it was. Eventually Bailey was led from that room to another, where medical professionals in protective gear, gloves, and facemasks collected his personal information so he could be tested for Covid-19.

A doctor braced him for the process by letting him know what to expect and how uncomfortable it might be, before a cotton swab was inserted into his nose and mouth. According to Bailey, it was painless and simple. Waiting for results was anything but. After they quarantined at the arena for over four hours, the Jazz spent the night in an Oklahoma City hotel. Bailey sat in his room, concern mounting as he thought about his wife and children.

“What if my test is positive?” he remembers. “Was I next to Rudy? How long was I next to him? Can you receive it if you’re on the same plane as people? All those things you start replaying in your mind.”

In the morning a Jazz employee called Bailey with good news: his results were negative. Soon after, the team flew back to Salt Lake City where they met with Angela Dunn, a state epidemiologist at Utah’s Department of Health. She went over different risk factors, explained the meaning of asymptomatic, and made strong suggestions on how they (and everyone around them) should act through the life-changing days and weeks and months that loomed ahead.

Before the season was suspended, Bailey’s daily responsibilities were not limited to his job as a broadcast analyst for the Jazz. Earlier this month, he was elected as a board of director for the National Basketball Retired Players Association (NBRPA), a 1,000-plus member organization that includes some of the sport’s most integral historic figures — former players from the NBA, WNBA, ABA, and Harlem Globetrotters.

“No one’s immune to [Covid-19], but it is a greater concern for our demographics, if you will,” Bailey says. “A lot of our players are the older generation,” Bailey said.

Right now, in the face of a crippling global pandemic, its members also represent an increasingly vulnerable and shaken segment of society that needs all the security, support, and accurate information they can find. The average member is 55 years old and over 200 of them are at least 70. All are impacted by the coronavirus, stressed over their own future, from a physical, emotional, and financial perspective.

In addition to Bailey — who previously served before he was termed out of the role due to appointment related rules — other recently elected directors include Shawn Marion, Sheryl Swoopes, and Dave Cowens. (Cowens helped found the association in 1992 with Oscar Robertson, Dave Bing, Archie Clark, and Dave DeBusschere.) Johnny Davis was named chairman of the board after spending 34 seasons as an NBA player and coach, while Jerome Williams and Grant Hill were elevated into different roles on the executive committee.

Normally, the association serves multiple functions. It’s a helping hand to members in search of new professional and/or educational opportunities. It reminds them of their own value as walking brand names, and encourages them to engage with the public in different ways. But unfortunately, our current timeline is anything but normal. The NBRPA has always expressed solicitude for its own, but right now its first, second, and third priority is to ensure the health and wellness of every member who feels susceptible.

“No one’s immune to [Covid-19], but it is a greater concern for our demographics, if you will,” Bailey says. “A lot of our players are the older generation.”

The NBRPA has been in front of the issue as best it can. All former players with at least three years service have healthcare coverage, while counseling services, scholarships, grants, and a rainy day fund for any members who are struggling to cope are in place. General awareness of these resources has been spread via email and phone calls, but this pandemic’s unpredictable scale will test mechanisms that have never been burdened by a threat this widespread and relentless.

Many members work part time and are unsure of how they’ll pay their next bill or make future house payments. Dozens have contacted the organization for assistance, which tells NBRPA President and CEO Scott Rochelle that many more may want to. “There’s probably another hundred who need to reach out or haven’t reached out but need the information,” he tells me. “So that’s guiding our efforts to date.”

Spencer Haywood, who just termed out after two straight three-year stints as the NBRPA’s chairman of the board, can’t stop thinking about his fellow members, former teammates, and friends who were suffering even before the globe was blanketed by coronavirus.

“I love them,” Haywood says. “Everybody just calls, ‘Hey can you help me with $300. I need $400, $500. I need this to make my rent. I need this to get food ... We don’t have a revenue stream. All of our guys have to work. They’re doing basketball camps. They’re traveling. They do groups. That’s how they make money ... We’re at the very beginning [of this pandemic], so I know our family, the NBA retired family, we’re gonna have some drama. I’m hoping that it’s not me. But who knows?”

Now 70 and living in Las Vegas, Haywood has done his best to stay as safe as he possibly can, stopping just short of hoarding Purell and essential groceries several weeks ago when his brother, who lives in France, first told him how deadly the virus can be. His four daughters teased him about being overly cautious, but now admit he was right to be so proactive.

Aside from his inability to resist two concerts at the House of Blues, put on by Arrested Development and Leslie Odom Jr. before everything shut down — “I couldn’t help myself!” Haywood laughs. “I went out against orders” — he’s replaced daily trips to the gym with morning yoga and five-mile walks at a nearby park.

While shuttered at home last Saturday afternoon, Haywood — a four-time NBA All-Star and ABA MVP as a 20-year-old rookie — let a few hours pass in front of ESPN’s panoramic Basketball: A Love Story documentary series, which featured his own 1971 Supreme Court case brought against the NBA that essentially allowed amateurs to bypass college and enter the NBA Draft straight out of high school. “I’m sitting there watching,” he laughs. “And I’m like ‘Damn. Pretty nice. I did some deep shit.”

As it rolled across his television, Hayward says a few friends who were also cooped up watching the same thing decided to call him: “They were like, ‘Man, I didn’t know you went through that kind of hell’. And I said ‘You were in the league!’ Man, oh man.”

But the pandemic has also emphasized a few general frustrations Haywood wants to air: “We wasted so much time in fake news and fake this, like shit, dude, if you didn’t want to be president, why did you run?”

He praises the donations made by current players to arena employees who, without NBA games, no longer have a job to do, and appreciates the players union’s unanimous vote that gave healthcare coverage to retired players back in 2016 “[NBPA President] Chris Paul has been a champion,” Haywood says. “I mean truly life saving.”

But in the midst of a broad crisis that will be felt by more former players than are currently under the NBRPA’s umbrella, Haywood also believes today’s stars should make additional contributions. “It’s a survival thing.” he says. “Think about the ones who built it for you. Who built this big conglomerate for you. I think they just don’t know. They never think about us.”

“The thing that bothers me so bad is they don’t know when it’s gonna end,” Cowens says, “Or is it?”

For the NBRPA, spring is typically a busy time of year, with college conference tournaments, the NCAA tournament, the McDonald’s All-American game, and Full Court Press, a nationwide youth clinic launched through the Jr. NBA. In the coming months, members lined up to earn between $250-500k in appearances alone. Instead, thanks to a wave of cancellations, revenue is at zero. There are still engagement opportunities being explored through NBA2K, Twitch, and social media, but the ramifications are undeniable.

Speaking appearances are another source of income for those who can leverage their name and life experience to travel across the country and meet with different people. That includes Haywood’s successor, Davis, the NBRPA’s newly elected chairman. The 64-year-old lives in Asheville, North Carolina, and normally spends his time giving talks at different colleges and universities in the area. He also sits on the foundation board at UNC-Asheville, where he’s heavily involved.

But with those opportunities no longer an option for the foreseeable future, Davis is instead staying put at his home up in the Blue Ridge mountains with his wife and son, where they’ve lived since 2009. “The warning bell has been sounded,” he tells me. “You can see the presence of what this virus has done. You can see it here in terms of how people are moving in their day to day lives. It’s different. It feels different.”

Davis is also spending some time acclimating to his new role with the NBRPA, going through the bylaws with Cowens, who lives in Maine for most of the year but has been down in Ft. Lauderdale since Jan. 10. Despite not having a full-time job, Cowens tries to keep himself busy. Last week he signed and mailed 800 basketball cards for Panini, the memorabilia company, that compensated him for the service. “It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to pay a few bills,” he says.

The Hall of Famer currently lives two blocks from the beach in a 19-story building, with 12 units on each floor. He’s neighborly, but most of the residents are on the older side, and over the past couple weeks everybody has kept to themselves.

Nights are spent out on his balcony, drinking an occasional glass of wine. When asked about the NBA deciding to suspend its season, Cowens says he would’ve liked to see at least one game played without any fans in the stands. The sound of squeaking shoes, shouting coaches, grunting players, and a natural silence that would otherwise be filled by the Jumbotron reminds him of old exhibition games that his Celtics used to play against the Knicks in upstate New York. Only 1,500 people were in the stands.

But there are more pressing matters on his mind. Now 71, Cowens is troubled by everything we don’t know about the coronavirus, how there’s no vaccine or direct word from the inflicted about how it made them actually feel. He worries about his wife. He checks up on old college buddies from Florida State, and recently phoned former Celtics teammate Don Chaney, who’s dealing with a heart condition and is likely at a higher risk than most.

“There’s so much uncertainty. If you’re feeling fine, but all of a sudden you start feeling sick, you then say ‘Am I gonna die from this?’ And so you don’t know. Young people don’t care because they’re already immune to everything in the world anyway. They’re gonna live forever. But they’re young, that’s how they think, and for the most part they’re in pretty good shape for dealing with this,” Cowens starts to chuckle. “So I don’t hang out at the clubs anymore. That’s not part of the schedule.”

No one interviewed for this story can compare such active worldwide disruption to anything they’ve witnessed or experienced firsthand. None can think of anything that comes close. It’s an unknown anxiety, like walking a plank while blindfolded from an unknown height. The future grows more murky by the day. “The thing that bothers me so bad is they don’t know when it’s gonna end,” Cowens says, “Or is it?”

He reminisces about his childhood in Newport, Kentucky. Cowens’ grandparents and aunt lived upstairs, in the same house as his parents and brother. His aunt would entertain with stories about getting to see Jim Thorpe (the only sports hero Cowens ever had) race with her own two eyes.

Cowens thinks about that time; how his grandfather lived to see his 60s despite serving in World War I and then enduring the Spanish Flu, which killed as many as 50 million people across the world. “People are going to survive,” Cowens says. That’s true. But the coronavirus will still crash into so many different lives, and so far the mortality rate for those it infects is substantially higher in seniors with underlying health issues.

Preparing for a disease that will infect and bankrupt thousands of people everyday was never in the NBRPA‘s sight line, and, frankly, it’d be a little silly if it was. Very few organizations in this country, if any, were prepared. But that hasn’t stopped them from doing whatever they can to steady the emotional wave so many are flailing through.

Right now, the organization’s primary motivation is to keep a bad situation from getting worse, and so far most retired players are doing whatever they can to limit the damage. Social distancing and self-quarantining are two examples of individual responsibility each person must take seriously. Most retired players are. The NBRPA can’t help those who won’t help themselves, but they can spread facts and manageable tactics that will save lives. The minefield of misinformation can in many ways be as dangerous as an errant cough.

Towards the end of his career, Bailey spent four seasons playing overseas. Three of them were in Italy, where he formed lifelong friendships. For the last five summers, he’s gone back to put on a basketball camp. Over the past couple weeks, Bailey has been texting with those who know firsthand what the coronavirus is capable of. They beg him to take it seriously. Given his position with the NBRPA, those around him are fortunate that he is.

“Our organization is staying on top of our members and their families to make sure they’re getting through it,” Bailey says. “It’s something that will always be etched in history. I was there. I was there the day the dominoes started to fall in Oklahoma City. In the sports world, anyway.”

[claire-bear-and-friends-blog]

Miraculous Ladybug Version of CAH

Black Cards

v  Ladybug’s suit is made of (              ).

v  Plot twist! The real villain of the show is (              ).

v  Who is Chat Noir’s greatest admirer?

v  I got arrested by Robocop for (             ).

v  What is the function of Chat Noir’s bell?

v  I’m Marinette, just a normal (             ), with normal (            ).

v  Chloe could only stare when she saw (              ).

v  What item of mine would an Akuma possess?

v  Where was Ladybug keeping that textbook?

v  Coming up in Season 2: (              )!

v  (             )? What am I supposed to do with this?!

v  Jagged Stone’s new hit single (          ), is about            .

v  Adrien’s go to excuse is “I had to (              )”.

v  Adrien and Nino aren’t (           ), they’re just (            ).

v  In an unexpected twist Hawkmoth is revealed to be (           ).

v  Marinette and Alya gave each other matching stares. Why?

v  The real reason Marinette doesn’t like Chat ‘like that’ is because (             ).

v  Ladybug’s Lucky Charm has produced (            ).

v  Kim dared Alix to (           ).

v  (            ): The no.1 reason people are Akumatised.

v  Adrien falsely believes that (             ), is Ladybug.

v  Jackady should have hypnotised (            ), to believe that they are (           ).

v  ROCK &  (               ), BABY!!!!

v  Adrien’s bodyguard is secretly  (            ).

v  Gabriel has designed something completely new. What is it?

v  Kim once stated he could (           ), better than (            ).

v  Where is Chat Noir now?

v  Mister Pigeon, but instead of pigeons it’s (             ).

v  What does Gabriel do in his office all day?

v  What is Adrien’s favourite Anime?

v  Chloe caused an Akuma by (            ).

v  Chat will finally woo his lady with (           ).

v  Hawkmoth secretly enjoys (              ).

v  In the last fight, Chat Noir got distracted by (            ).

v  The biggest difference between sub and dub is (             ).

v  Ladybug likes to scratch Chat Noir’s neck when he (              ).

v  Look up! It’s (              )!

v  Miraculous, Simply the Best, Up to the Test, (                    )!

v  Chloe always knew how to make the worst Akuma’s. What is her newest one?

v  Why is Lyla such a lying bitch?

v  Gabriel Agreste has decided to become a better father by (            ).

v  What is the newest addition to Chat Noir’s costume?

v  Kwami’s like to (             ), in their spare time.

v  What is Marinette’s new nickname?

v  Why don’t Ladybug and Chat Noir recognise each other?

v  What is the newest power of the Cat miraculous?

v  What is the newest Akuma?

v  Why is Natalie so apathetic all the time?

v  Where do the Miraculous’s come from?

v  (              ), & (            ), the hottest new ship in Miraculous Ladybug.

White Cards

v  The love of your life being 5000 years to old for you. (Supposedly)

v  That one Adrien/Plagg fic we’re all afraid of.

v  A laser pointer.

v  Chat Noir in heels.

v  Evil laughter, courtesy of Hawkmoth.

v  Being repeatedly beaten by 2 teenagers.

v  The word ‘Evilise’.

v  A birthday lunch break to remember.

v  Sending all the adults into space.

v  Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur, happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr…

v  “I feel no pain when I am with you, because you are my ibuBROphen”. -Nino to Adrien at some point, probably

v  Chat’s night vision.

v  A Venus flytrap diary case.

v  Standing in a dark room surrounded by butterflies until someone gets sad.

v  Throw Chat Noir at the problem.

v  Chat Noir’s clumsy cuteness.

v  Plagg’s inability to do his job.

v  Losing by ‘only’ half a million votes.

v  Weather girls.

v  Chat Noir’s sweet dance moves.

v  Years of butterfly paranoia.

v  A Chat on a hot tin roof.

v  Getting high off catnip.

v  Chat’s sass.

v  The Umbrella scene.

v  The Christmas special.

v  The inability to remember a kiss.

v  Marinette’s inability to articulate a sentence around Adrien.

v  Gabriel’s resting bitchface.

v  Boyfriend material.

v  A love square with only 2 people.

v  Girls smell better than cheese.

v  Chat Blanc.

v  The entire fandom forgetting that the main characters are minors.

v  A magical cat-boy who wears leather.

v  The blue scarf.

v  The fandom hating certain sides of the love square. (Even though they’re the same people)

v  Tomas Astruc reading your poorly written Ladynoir fanfiction right now.

v  Combining the Miraculous’.

v  Chat Noir flexing.

v  Felix’s thigh high boots.

v  Feather allergies.

v  Dragging Chat Noir by his tail.

v  Blaming Chloe.

v  Transforming out in the open.

v  The Shower Scene.

v  Marinette’s eye makeup that’s always on fleek.

v  Chat Noir sniffing Ladybug.

v  Chat Noir’s domanatrix cat suit.

v  The plot twist we can all see coming.

v  She didn’t SIGN the FREAKING CARD!!!!

v  Pound it!

v  Pastries from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

v  A shrine to the Ladynoir ship.

v  Adrien sitting like a cat.

v  Antibug.

v  Croissants.

v  Basically, French Sailor Moon.

v  Adrien’s fantasies.

v  A giant hairdryer.

v  Everyone forgetting Felix.

v  The secret purpose of Chat Noir’s zipper.

v  Nino the Awesome.

v  “2 Ladybugs, I’m in Heaven”.

v  Cat ears.

v  A billboard with Adrien’s face on it.

v  Waltzing right in and taking the Mona Lisa.

v  Becoming a superhero before you turn 18.

v  A magical unicorn from the planet, Rispa.

v  Trying to get a spider-man kiss, but being dropped on your head instead.

v  That crazy Pharaoh guy and his dumb motivation.

v  Ineffective villains.

v  A magical yo-yo.

v  Horrificator’s slime.

v  Mr Pigeon.

v  Trying to literally kill people because a teenager insulted your partner.

v  Forcing people to dance at a birthday party.

v  A glitch in the CGI.

v  Huffing perfume.

v  Magical, all-knowing Ladybug vision.

v  A near reveal.

v  Attacking Paris with bubbles.

v  Designing.

v  Adrien’s “missing” mother.

v  Tom Dupain’s sick biceps.

v  Licking yourself like a cat.

v  Abandonment issues.

v  An elderly Chinese match-maker in a Hawaiian shirt.

v  Bad parenting.

v  Camembert.

v  Alya blatantly disregarding her safety for Ladyblog footage.

v  Keeping a copy of your crushes schedule in your room at all times.

v  Copious amounts of sexual tension.

v  Edgy Black lipstick.

v  Felix in general.

v  The Break-Dance AU.

v  Having to be saved by 2 teenagers wearing spandex.

v  Tom Dupain-Cheng.

v  Chloe’s designer purse.

v  Jagged Stone.

v  Gabriel’s parenting.

v  Alya being a saint.

v  Chloe ruining everything.

v  A skin-tight catsuit.

v  Horrible and painful cat puns.

v  NSFW fanart.

v  Nathanael's cuteness.

v  Preying on the emotional insecurities of teenagers.

v  Stealing people’s phones.

v  Chat’s leather-clad ass.

v  Adrien buying a bunch of Ladybug body pillows.

v  Nino and Adrien’s bromance.

v  The love square.

v  Using your stick as a selfie camera.

v  The fact that the Gorilla totally knows.

v  Magic jewellery.

v  Adrien teaching Nino about puns.

v  Meow!

v  Chat Noir in general.

v  Feed Adrien 2K16.

v  Chat Noir purring.

v  Chat Noir body pillows.

v  Locking 2 of your friends in a cage together.

v  Hitting Chloe with a book.

v  Well played, Kitty.

v  Casually destroying the Eiffel Tower.

v  The blessed shoulder tap of friendship from Adrien.

v  Ladrien Vs Marichat.

v  Bugaboo.

v  Puppeteer.

v  Princess Fragrance.

v  There’s a giant dinosaur!

v  PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!

v  TIKKI, SPOTS ON!

v  Chloe being a bitch.

v  Fang’s adorableness.

v  “Look into the lens”.

v  You are the Nail Filer!

v  “I want that DOLL!!!”

v  Nooroo’s unresolved drinking problem.

v  CAT-ACLYSIM!

v  The fact that a domino mask can hide your identity.

v  Pastry Bug.

v  Plagg’s addiction to cheese.

v  Hawkmoth in general.

v  Catbug.

v  NOOROO, GLITTER MY WINGS!

v  LUCKY CHARM!

v  Punching a small child in the face because Hawkmoth turned them into a supervillain.

v  Attacking 2 innocent teenagers because Hawkmoth said to.

AN: Just to be clear I don’t own Miraculous Ladybug, but me and my friends created our own version of Cards Against Humanity and I wanted to share them. They take a while to make and coming up with the ideas was a process. I encourage you to enjoy and if you wish to make your own, you are totally allowed to use these or simply take ideas. It is a long post as it has 50 Black and 150 White cards.

Have a good one!

-Claire Bear & Friends

[cardsagainstanme]

Miraculous Ladybug Version

Black Cards

v  Ladybug’s suit is made of (           ).

v  Plot twist! The real villain of the show is (           ).

v  Who is Chat Noir’s greatest admirer?

v  I got arrested by Robocop for (           ).

v  What is the function of Chat Noir’s bell?

v  I’m Marinette, just a normal (             ), with normal (            ).

v  Chloe could only stare when she saw (             ).

v  What item of mine would an Akuma possess?

v  Where was Ladybug keeping that textbook?

v  Coming up in Season 2: (              )!

v (              )? What am I supposed to do with this?!

v  Jagged Stone’s new hit single (          ), is about (           ).

v  Adrien’s go to excuse is “I had to (              )”.

v  Adrien and Nino aren’t (           ), they’re just (            ).

v  In an unexpected twist Hawkmoth is revealed to be (           ).

v  Marinette and Alya gave each other matching stares. Why?

v  The real reason Marinette doesn’t like Chat ‘like that’ is because (             ).

v  Ladybug’s Lucky Charm has produced (            ).

v  Kim dared Alix to (           ).

v  (             ): The no.1 reason people are Akumatised.

v  Adrien falsely believes that (             ), is Ladybug.

v  Jackady should have hypnotised (            ), to believe that they are (           ).

v  ROCK & (             ), BABY!!!!

v  Adrien’s bodyguard is secretly (            ).

v  Gabriel has designed something completely new. What is it?

v  Kim once stated he could (           ), better than (            ).

v  Where is Chat Noir now?

v  Mister Pigeon, but instead of pigeons it’s (            ).

v  What does Gabriel do in his office all day?

v  What is Adrien’s favourite Anime?

v  Chloe caused an Akuma by (            ).

v  Chat will finally woo his lady with (           ).

v  Hawkmoth secretly enjoys (              ).

v  In the last fight, Chat Noir got distracted by (            ).

v  The biggest difference between sub and dub is (             ).

v  Ladybug likes to scratch Chat Noir’s neck when he (              ).

v  Look up! It’s (              )!

v  Miraculous, Simply the Best, Up to the Test, (                  )!

v  Chloe always knew how to make the worst Akuma’s. What is her newest one?

v  Why is Lyla such a lying bitch?

v  Gabriel Agreste has decided to become a better father by (            ).

v  What is the newest addition to Chat Noir’s costume?

v  Kwami’s like to (             ), in their spare time.

v  What is Marinette’s new nickname?

v  Why don’t Ladybug and Chat Noir recognise each other?

v  What is the newest power of the Cat miraculous?

v  What is the newest Akuma?

v  Why is Natalie so apathetic all the time?

v  Where do the Miraculous’s come from?

v (               ), & (            ), the hottest new ship in Miraculous Ladybug.

White Cards

v  The love of your life being 5000 years to old for you. (Supposedly)

v  That one Adrien/Plagg fic we’re all afraid of.

v  A laser pointer.

v  Chat Noir in heels.

v  Evil laughter, courtesy of Hawkmoth.

v  Being repeatedly beaten by 2 teenagers.

v  The word ‘Evilise’.

v  A birthday lunch break to remember.

v  Sending all the adults into space.

v  Soft kitty, warm kitty, little ball of fur, happy kitty, sleepy kitty, purr, purr, purr…

v  “I feel no pain when I am with you, because you are my ibuBROphen”. -Nino to Adrien at some point, probably

v  Chat’s night vision.

v  A Venus flytrap diary case.

v  Standing in a dark room surrounded by butterflies until someone gets sad.

v  Throw Chat Noir at the problem.

v  Chat Noir’s clumsy cuteness.

v  Plagg’s inability to do his job.

v  Losing by ‘only’ half a million votes.

v  Weather girls.

v  Chat Noir’s sweet dance moves.

v  Years of butterfly paranoia.

v  A Chat on a hot tin roof.

v  Getting high off catnip.

v  Chat’s sass.

v  The Umbrella scene.

v  The Christmas special.

v  The inability to remember a kiss.

v  Marinette’s inability to articulate a sentence around Adrien.

v  Gabriel’s resting bitchface.

v  Boyfriend material.

v  A love square with only 2 people.

v  Girls smell better than cheese.

v  Chat Blanc.

v  The entire fandom forgetting that the main characters are minors.

v  A magical cat-boy who wears leather.

v  The blue scarf.

v  The fandom hating certain sides of the love square. (Even though they’re the same people)

v  Tomas Astruc reading your poorly written Ladynoir fanfiction right now.

v  Combining the Miraculous’.

v  Chat Noir flexing.

v  Felix’s thigh high boots.

v  Feather allergies.

v  Dragging Chat Noir by his tail.

v  Blaming Chloe.

v  Transforming out in the open.

v  The Shower Scene.

v  Marinette’s eye makeup that’s always on fleek.

v  Chat Noir sniffing Ladybug.

v  Chat Noir’s domanatrix cat suit.

v  The plot twist we can all see coming.

v  She didn’t SIGN the FREAKING CARD!!!!

v  Pound it!

v  Pastries from the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

v  A shrine to the Ladynoir ship.

v  Adrien sitting like a cat.

v  Antibug.

v  Croissants.

v  Basically, French Sailor Moon.

v  Adrien’s fantasies.

v  A giant hairdryer.

v  Everyone forgetting Felix.

v  The secret purpose of Chat Noir’s zipper.

v  Nino the Awesome.

v  “2 Ladybugs, I’m in Heaven”.

v  Cat ears.

v  A billboard with Adrien’s face on it.

v  Waltzing right in and taking the Mona Lisa.

v  Becoming a superhero before you turn 18.

v  A magical unicorn from the planet, Rispa.

v  Trying to get a spider-man kiss, but being dropped on your head instead.

v  That crazy Pharaoh guy and his dumb motivation.

v  Ineffective villains.

v  A magical yo-yo.

v  Horrificator’s slime.

v  Mr Pigeon.

v  Trying to literally kill people because a teenager insulted your partner.

v  Forcing people to dance at a birthday party.

v  A glitch in the CGI.

v  Huffing perfume.

v  Magical, all-knowing Ladybug vision.

v  A near reveal.

v  Attacking Paris with bubbles.

v  Designing.

v  Adrien’s “missing” mother.

v  Tom Dupain’s sick biceps.

v  Licking yourself like a cat.

v  Abandonment issues.

v  An elderly Chinese match-maker in a Hawaiian shirt.

v  Bad parenting.

v  Camembert.

v  Alya blatantly disregarding her safety for Ladyblog footage.

v  Keeping a copy of your crushes schedule in your room at all times.

v  Copious amounts of sexual tension.

v  Edgy Black lipstick.

v  Felix in general.

v  The Break-Dance AU.

v  Having to be saved by 2 teenagers wearing spandex.

v  Tom Dupain-Cheng.

v  Chloe’s designer purse.

v  Jagged Stone.

v  Gabriel’s parenting.

v  Alya being a saint.

v  Chloe ruining everything.

v  A skin-tight catsuit.

v  Horrible and painful cat puns.

v  NSFW fanart.

v  Nathanael's cuteness.

v  Preying on the emotional insecurities of teenagers.

v  Stealing people’s phones.

v  Chat’s leather-clad ass.

v  Adrien buying a bunch of Ladybug body pillows.

v  Nino and Adrien’s bromance.

v  The love square.

v  Using your stick as a selfie camera.

v  The fact that the Gorilla totally knows.

v  Magic jewellery.

v  Adrien teaching Nino about puns.

v  Meow!

v  Chat Noir in general.

v  Feed Adrien 2K16.

v  Chat Noir purring.

v  Chat Noir body pillows.

v  Locking 2 of your friends in a cage together.

v  Hitting Chloe with a book.

v  Well played, Kitty.

v  Casually destroying the Eiffel Tower.

v  The blessed shoulder tap of friendship from Adrien.

v  Ladrien Vs Marichat.

v  Bugaboo.

v  Puppeteer.

v  Princess Fragrance.

v  There’s a giant dinosaur!

v  PLAGG, CLAWS OUT!

v  TIKKI, SPOTS ON!

v  Chloe being a bitch.

v  Fang’s adorableness.

v  “Look into the lens”.

v  You are the Nail Filer!

v  “I want that DOLL!!!”

v  Nooroo’s unresolved drinking problem.

v  CAT-ACLYSIM!

v  The fact that a domino mask can hide your identity.

v  Pastry Bug.

v  Plagg’s addiction to cheese.

v  Hawkmoth in general.

v  Catbug.

v  NOOROO, GLITTER MY WINGS!

v  LUCKY CHARM!

v  Punching a small child in the face because Hawkmoth turned them into a supervillain.

v  Attacking 2 innocent teenagers because Hawkmoth said to.

+O`R�w;

[robininthelabyrinth]

Legends Recap

Because while I was determined not to (I was three episodes behind!), sometimes a girl's just got to scream into the void: "HOW DO THESE WRITERS KEEP THEIR JOBS?"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raiders of the Lost Art: Wow, I don’t care about Rip. Also, you had the fucking spear of destiny through all of season 1? Fucking incompetent.

I’ve seen the Mick scene before. *hugs Mick*

…Nate is such an annoying frat boy. 3AM blasting bad music? In a small space near other people’s sleeping quarters? And just “oh, yeah, sorry, I needed to do a thing” as an explanation? We have a name for those people: assholes.

Again: Indiana Jones is an archeologist. Not a historian.

“Anyone would have made the call to save Grey!” “Would Rip?” Answer: no, because Rip doesn’t care about the team. Remember how he did that repeatedly last season?  Why is this show trying to push Sara’s weird (and out of nowhere) crush on Rip?

I have literally no interest in Rip’s issues. Zero.

Fear of giant toads, somehow related to Mick’s mother (reference to “mommy talk”). Dragon!Mick confirmed?

Mick’s expression of “you’ve got to be kidding me” is going to be the highlight of this episode, I can tell.

I’m pleased they remember that Mick can knock someone out without harming them. I’m less pleased that they seem to have forgotten that Sara can do the same?

“Oh now, our way out is block! Pity we didn’t bring Jax, so that we could literally Firestorm fly our way out! That would have made sense, but cost precious CGI money!”

Mick’s tradition of carrying people continues.

Oh god, this episode’s only halfway over. Make it stop.

Goody, Stein insulting Mick to his face. Also, emotional problems leading to hallucinations are a serious problem??? Even if it’s just “emotions”, there are hallucinations?

NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not having 4 PhDs or a history degree = total inability to read words!

NOTE TO AUDIENCE: Not being an inventor or a historian makes you useless!

Also, apparently getting mugged once can cause a change of career after dropping money and time into it.

Why did they move the chair into Mick’s room? HOW did they? (Why were we, the audience, deprived of the glorious scene of Mick and Stein hauling it down the hallway)

Also, Mick has been interpreting Stein’s academic technobabble without a problem the whole episode, and yet, everyone on board thinks he’s stupid…

I’m incredibly pissed at this episode for raising hopes of Len and then destroying them. Both for Mick, and for the audience.

I’m also not here for the Rip/Sara thing. Also the fact that this show seems to assume people will be super disbelieving despite being on a goddamn spaceship.

Oh, my bby! Mick’s head is literally SLICED OPEN in that scene! WTF?

I get all the Star Wars references, I just…don’t care…

George Lucas is holding the spear of destiny, which makes him a great director…or, at least, married to one. He’s a good tech guy, at least.

In which the Guy Who Has Never Been In A Fight Decides Not To Run From Evil Bad Guys Because…Plot.

Mick’s little smile when he says “ghost” and the heartbreak after it is just…unnecessary. Also, wtf, Stein, hallucinations are not a usual response to grief, okay?

Ugh.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Legion of Doom:

Damien’s intro is more interesting than 95% of the normal Legends’.

Okay, why is Merlyn having Feelings about Darkh dying? (Also, wouldn’t removing Darkh from the timeline mean that that timeline no longer happens? Why do G. Lucas’ ~~feelings~~ about filmmaking have an immediate impact but literally removing the person who doesn’t go on to do any of the shit he later does not?)

Fucking writers. This could be such a good show if they cared even a LITTLE.

I do enjoy the sheer bitchiness of the bad guys. Pity they’re Nazis. Also, do we need all the scenes of tortures?

ALSO: why the hell would his daughter help with a mystical artifact? Like, I see that she does because of plot, but couldn't they have put any effort into explaining why her specialty is required? Also, why does she have a radiation detector in her pocket when she goes to get coffee?

Bad guys: bitch-bitch-bitch.

Bad guys: bitch about each other.

Bad guys: yet MORE bitching!

Bad guys: worst bank robbers ever?

Mick’s difficulty thinking of the word is adorable. And yeah, she deserved to know. Everyone acting super weird about her, and she doesn’t know why? She would have wanted to know. It was clearly deliberate, too (I love how he goes to “asphyxiation”!)

Bad guys: going back to bitching. With swords! (See, I’d like them, but: Nazis.)

Stein is moping because Mick “spilled the beans” on a secret he shouldn’t be keeping. So sad.

Both sides figure out Eobard, finally. Also, can’t Eo just phase out through the wall?

Speedster: not…use…speed…force? I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand?

Eo’s terror face is hilarious. Also, did everyone just forget about phasing?

Stein’s family drama, yeah, yeah.  Stein: Can’t you stay? Lily: No, the budget can’t afford another regular. I mean, I have protein-folding to be doing instead of LITERAL time travel with future science! Because that’s totally how normal people/scientists make decisions!

--------------

Turncoat:

Mick’s intro is lovely.

Interesting mention about “time travel” being fun – I assume not all the memories are back in place. That, or being a Time Master is even more dull than I’d previously imagined.

I’m in for Gideon killing everybody! *notes down fic idea*

Go Mick! Use your skills! (Ray deserves all the arm twisting.)

Nate and Amaya – boring. And seriously, with the ‘falling into his arms’ thing?

Good lord, someone actually makes a plan that includes the line “and then if there’s trouble, Firestorm”? I thought I’d never see the day.

(Ray should totally go as a toy. And Ray, stop making faces at Mick – you’ve been a dick to him all season, only fair he gets some licks back in.)

“Oh you’re married to a black woman! Don’t you know we were racist back then!” says the man in late 18th century New Jersey, where rich black women could still vote. (No, really, in a handful of states black women could vote as long as they owned property. This was one of the rights that was lost when the US got itself a federal government. But the past was always racist! because we didn't make this joke enough when Kendra and Ray were dating!)

Ray’s “Mer-ry Christmas!” is amusing.

Mick identifies the problem faster than anyone else, as usual. Mick disapproves of Rip’s behavior – and Rip’s attempt to compare the two of them. For shame, Rip; as usual, thinking the worst of Mick.

“And Rory.” “That was implied.” Yeah, sure.  At least Jax gets next Captain after Sara goes! First time I’ve seen any reference to Jax’s leadership skills in…the entire series…

Really. Twice. That doesn’t make it funny.

“I’ll bet a hundred yous you’re wrong” = Mick is the best. Georgie isn’t wrong about there being rules of war, but Mick is still the best.

Jax. Jax. I love you, but there is a DIFFERENCE between “wow, I’m in charge of a handful of people and need to make decisions” and “I’m going to do a potentially life threatening activity involving literally digging into my friend’s stomach (which is filled with organs that, if nicked, could cause sepsis and death) with a knife, and I’m going to do it without a guide or any experience”. Stein wins this one hands down.

Okay, let me just be clear: somehow, Amaya has been on this ship for months and months and never heard the term ‘dating’ and is instead using ‘courting’, which is the most formal of formal terms used in the past. Because obviously a man – to use old-fashiony language like this show wants to – “called on” or “stepped out with” a woman a few times before officially declaring a courtship. Because the past didn’t have one-night stands, because people only developed libidos around the time of the internet. SERIOUSLY SHOW? People have been fucking for fun since forever. The whole “sexual revolution” thing was a revolution because women could have sex for fun WITHOUT RISK OF PREGNANCY.

Before then, they still had sex, they used what contraceptives they had and hoped for the best. There’s a reason shotgun weddings were a thing. And why

And I was told they went with the “huddling for warming -> sex” thing, I knew it was coming, it’s just…disappointing. Boring.

Jax Home Alone looks like it’s going to be fun.

Rip – the most ahistorical haircut, or the most ahistorical haircut? Ugly, too.

Georgie: “Don’t punish Mick! He’s not guilty!” Mick: “You bet your ass I am! Possibly not at the moment, but of many other things! And also, just generally speaking!”

Still bored with Nate/Amaya.

Jax Home Alone is not anywhere near as fun as I was hoping. Boo.

Mick: So I’m getting you out of here. George: No. Mick: *tries insults* *it’s not very effective* George: *stirring speech* Mick: *stirring speech* *it’s super-effective!* George: …

“Oh, no, what about George Washington and Rory!” says the person happily having sex and napping instead literally five minutes before.

Awwwww, Ratigan! That is some terrible CGI.

Why are they selling the Rip/Sara? It’s icky. (This is me: totally believing that Sara’s dead. Really. Totally. Even for five seconds.)

First, the historical critique: they shouldn’t ALL be standing around at a hanging with primed guns, that’s a recipe for disaster.

Second: I don’t even care this is glorious. Mick saves everyone! Mick tackles four people! George uses his superior height!

Also, if Mick convinced him early in the evening, then they literally spent all night talking.

First instance of Georgie-boy! (though poor Mick is still suicidal, oh dear)

George: …yeah, Americans out, stage left, pursued by bear.

Jax, Jax, baby, just shoot him in the kneecap. What the hell is with these heroes? Sara’s back and decides to use Christmas against everyone because…no, I have no idea why. Is it just me or does it feel like these episodes are massively out of order?

Awwww, Georgie and Mick drinking together <3 Mick and the criminal justice system! And then they hug! Mick finally has a good friend!

“Rebel spirit, steadfastness, crass yet effective use of language, you’re the best of what our new nation can be” – Mick is now officially embarrassed and hiding. Man, if I hadn’t already written that Barry/Mick fic, I would now.

Sara and Jax bro-ship is perfectly okay. More of that.

Mick in a hat! Mick with his new rat! <3 Mick kissing his new rat!

“We have nothing to celebrate – including Mick getting a statute!” – why, guys, why?

(Mick’s face of “yeah I still got nothing” whenever the statute is mentioned is adorable)

“Because the League may have everything – smarts, beauty, cunning, charisma…wait, where was I going with this?”

[keneerike]

On George Floyd, Donald Trump, and Social Progress

[Listen to the audio version here: https://soundcloud.com/user-31492767/on-george-floyd-donald-trump-and-social-progress-jttg-june-2020]

A number of people have asked about my thoughts on the George Floyd situation, so I'll explore that below.

On George Floyd and Officer Chauvin: 

Office Chauvin should go down for manslaughter for leaving his knee on Floyd's neck after he was no longer a threat. He deserves that punishment for his negligence.

George Floyd’s epilogue is less clear-cut.

"George Floyd" as '”Victim'”? Certainly.

"George Floyd" as "Martyr"? No.

What he was doing before he was 'cuffed on the ground set the events in motion. He is not a figure to idolize.

We've got to be careful about how freely we throw around the "Hero" label.

Police Brutality and The Biggest Threats to Blacks in America:

Police brutality is a problem. 

The biggest threat to blacks in America? Not even close.

There exist larger, more pressing hurdles facing the average black person in America on a daily basis. 

Income, health, education, parenting concerns: Just a few of the issues more likely to impact your life than the transgressions of the police.

Heck, statistically, black-on-black civilian crime is much more likely to impair---or end---the life of the average black person than a run-in with the police.

I'm not denying that racism---at the hands of the police or others--- exists. Or recommending silence on issues that matter to you most. Just putting the spectre of police fatalities into context.

One concern that's seldom voiced: The assault on free speech of anyone who has a dissenting opinion---not just on this topic, but others---is dangerous. We've got to be careful about allowing emotions and hidden agendas to control narratives.

Be mindful of those in the background pulling the strings who benefit when the country settles for low-hanging fruit.

On Creating Effective Protests:

A couple excerpts from posts past....

Two problems facing the protest community:

1) Inability to Create Change

2) Sullied Reputation: “Protesters are Thugs.”

"They only have one question: What’s in it for them?

Why should they invest the time and effort to help you, beyond offering empty gestures and lip service?

It could be an emotional reason or a financial one. It could be to create tranquility inside their own minds. You have to give people a reason to get off the sidelines. 

Until you do that, you’re just pounding sand."

Full Article: Freddie Gray, Dirty Cops, and The Problem With (Peaceful) Protests

https://justtaptheglass.com/post/117772177598/freddie-gray-protests

"The problem with this anthem movement, like most demonstrations, is that the players have no specific stated goal. “Awareness” is not precise enough, nor is “starting a conversation”. Only the most dyed-in-the-wool bigots deny racism exists. Awareness is overrated. Problems don’t get solved without actionable solutions and the first step to meeting a goal is defining the target.

Open discourse helps. Shaming people in to silence does not. Activists are too quick to dismiss detractors as racists, instead of encouraging an exchange of ideas. All intellectual-dishonesty does is stunt progress. We will not get anywhere if people are afraid to speak up."

Full Article: Anthem Demonstrations and Protests in The NFL

https://justtaptheglass.com/post/166323807657/patriotism-in-the-nfl

Protest gatherings that devolve into looting and vandalism mobs just undermine the cause. That mayhem puts businesses on notice about locating their stores in impoverished neighborhoods---those who need convenient access to services the most---as well.

Looting and polluting is not the way.....  

Many of the people protesting aren't doing much to move the needle. A sizable portion of them arrive with ulterior motives, content just to be seen or galvanized by being part of a crowd.

And then there are those looking for opportunities to act up, emboldened by the belief they'll get away with it.

(Well, most of the time.)

Also lost in the shuffle is the impact of these mass gatherings on the COVID infection curve. Politicians, no strangers to double-talk, are condoning protests, arguing that social activism "trumps" any other considerations, be they pathological or ideological. This sort of pandering casts doubt on the actual threat level of the Coronavirus to local municipalities and undermines government credibility going forward.

Apparently, infection brakes for politics.

The Impact on the 2020 Elections:

I'd be remiss not to throw in a few words about the potential impact on the 2020 elections:

A lot of criticism has already been lobbed President Trump's way: that's expected given his position in the free world. Like every modern-day POTUS, he will receive inordinate censure for the bad---and more praise for the good---than he actually deserves. President Trump is a particularly-conspicuous target because of the frequency (and carelessness) with which he communicates through social media.

That said, the Floyd saga should have negligible impact on Trump's chances for a second term. Ditto for local elections.

"But what about all those protesters, civil unrest, and celebrity commentary on the need for change? That imagery has got to play in the coming elections, right?"

Impact Bias: We overestimate the importance and duration of most events on our lives.

Most notable events hit hard for a few weeks and then gradually fade away from national consciousness  We remember what happened, but it recesses further and further into our minds as time passes.  

That's never been more true with how quickly news cycles turn nowadays. The world reacts for a short while and then everyone goes back to their normal lives.

Many celebrities and organizations comment on notable events for publicity purposes, seizing the opportunity to pander to fan bases. They offer a sympathetic quote, bask in the goodwill, and consider it "mission accomplished". Talk is cheap and committed problem-solvers are in rare supply. In an uncertain world, there will always be something to get outraged about in the future.

You know, like the way Americans followed through on eradicating Boko Haram after the 2014 kidnappings in Nigeria, which birthed the #BringBackOurGirls Movement.

That terrorist organization is still alive and wreaking havoc in West Africa, but the world has moved on to to the next cause du jour.

But hey, "awareness" is what counts, right?

And many of the same protesters out in force in cities across the country are those most likely to skip the voting booth on Election Day. Easy answers to difficult questions never go out of style and most activists would rather look the part than actually do the work required to get results.

If you hated Trump before the incident, you still hate him. And if you're one of his supporters, nothing new hit the scene to alter that. 

There was---and still is---a lot of talk about foreign influence on the last presidential election. For centuries, governments have attempted to influence foreign policies for their own agenda. With the advent of social media, that's never been easier to accomplish. 

Don't be fooled, though: voter apathy, misaligned values, and flawed political outreach were much bigger factors in the previous presidential election outcome than any foreign interference. As convenient as it is to blame Russian boogeymen, the Democratic Party committed serious strategic blunders in their approach to winning the vote.

Trump opponents would be wise to focus on the real reasons the 2016 contests didn't go their way. Come to terms with the truth and the path to victory becomes much clearer.

Do let me know what you think about the Floyd situation and the ramifications for Americans---of all colors---going forward.

[eclectic-pragmatist]

Character

When it comes to character, it isn't necessarily that certain traits of personality and values are directly pragmatic, but rather that certain combinations of them can more easily and consistently lead to pragmatism and all that it offers. Some individuals become known as much for their wisdom, balance and reliability as they do for what they accomplish, as well as a consistency that demonstrates stability and predictability. And, yes, these qualities are widely admired...at least by intelligent people.

Parents spend considerable time and effort to ensure, or at least increase the likelihood, that their children will grow up to be the kinds of adults who represent what society and culture favor and prefer. Successes in personal relationships, in careers, in a life well lived are enhanced by character. Wise choices, solving problems, creating teamwork, leading by example are the result of intelligence and education, but also personality that draws others to want to work with and spend time with those of even temperament with a sense of humor and compelling honesty — intellectual and personal.

This was very obvious several months ago when my wife and I watched the first of a series of interviews that David Letterman has done on Netflix. Dave's initial guest was the previous president of the country, and the intelligence, rationality, thoughtfulness and kindness he is known for presented a very striking and, yes, emotional contrast with the current president. That one hour interview was a reminder of what has been lost and we miss so much since the last election, and how his replacement is the antithesis of him in literally every way — and proof that character really does matter.

Those who think it doesn't have simply emulated the intellectual dishonesty of the individual they voted for. Overlooking severe character flaws on the justification that only policy and opinion matter is the complete opposite of rational, reasoning pragmatism. What kind of individual would accept and be proud of family and friends who exhibited angry narcissism, a complete absence of empathy for others, an inability to even acknowledge truth and a penchant for insulting anyone and everyone with incoherent attacks and threats.

Despicable, repulsive character is invariably utter moral failure that only pretends to be otherwise. Fifty million voters are simply and completely wrong in believing they are winning. They are losing and taking us with them on this reeking journey of failure of character. Ironically, perhaps there is a very valuable lesson for everyone else...those who comprehend how such a dismal circumstance came to be and what must be done to restore the values of character that we took for granted for too long and have now been replaced with the antithesis of those values.

We all have shortcomings of character, but they are relatively trivial in terms of what is deemed normal. You know, fundamentally good people proving that perfection is simply never going to be attainable. The thing is, reasonable people can disagree on things and yet still be nice, and kind, and respectful. A sense of humour about one's self and about life makes a significant contribution to how we are in the world...and toward each other.

For the devoted pragmatist, character is foundational. Pragmatism is about seeking truth, assessing facts and data, seeing things for what they are and focusing on reality. For this to work, intellectual integrity, ethical and moral honesty, rationality and stable temperament are essential. Without these, pragmatic processes are not feasible, and chaos-disruption are likely and even inevitable. Character facilitates pragmatism.

I have a stark comparison of character in my mind as I write this. One is of the previous president crying as he spoke of small children killed in their classrooms. His grief for others was genuine and honest. The current president has insulted the previous one for years and continues to do so. He cares about only one person...himself. One is an individual of character I greatly admire and respect. The other endlessly demonstrates what the literal absence of character is like. My pragmatic choice is obvious.

[melancholic-cloud]

Dead Girl Walking | Sachiko

Good. Half of them voted for Matsuo. It was underwhelming to realize that only six of them had anything resembling a brain instead of a muddled pile of emotional reactions, but alas. Given the nature of the trial, she was disappointed but entirely unsurprised. People were stupid when they got sentimental. Even with the facts lying right in front of their faces, the reality of the situation spelled out for them, such boorish courses of action would still be taken in the last desperate, pitiful attempts to hold onto life. She had already sworn to herself that she would not be so stupid if it was Shinri, and expected the same in turn. They were both better than that. It was not so much out of lack of love as it was out of logical reasoning, and knowledge that it was pertinent to do the right thing no matter how much it hurt. Sachiko spared a curt glance to her right as the fencer’s guilt was confirmed by Kurokuma. No surprises there.

She was, consequently, much more pleasantly surprised by the fact that Seiichi had gotten six votes as he should have. Frankly, with all the vocal support for sacrificing Nao over a whole lot of nothing and the definite threat posed by Ren, part of her had been worried that the half of them who had brains would have been split by fear and intimidation. But they had not been, they had united to vote correctly, and they had done the right thing. So, whatever did it mean that Nao also got six votes? Would it be left to a coin toss? Something to determine which of the two would be found guilty? Really, the idea of leaving it to luck was less than ideal, but if that was what it came to then so be it. But even that would be too merciful for the kind of place that this was. Sachiko just barely managed to quash the tinge of fear that struck her in the heart - there were 12 of them. But that would probably exclude the two who everyone voted for initially, as a result of their inability to make a decision. He wouldn’t let them go with just picking between those two, would he? Ten people. Eight of whom she was completely ready and willing to let die. Two of whom were unacceptable casualties.

One in five were not great odds. Four in five were far worse odds.

Without even thinking about it, she reached out slightly to the side for Shinri’s hand. Whether it was to assure her that they’d both be fine, or for the one source of comfort that she could rely on herself was irrelevant. She never made it, stopped by the damnable bear’s attention coming to their side of the room, and then on Shinri, and hm okay that’s weird why was he pointing at Shinri who has never done anything wrong in her life ever? It wasn’t instantaneous, no, there were no warning signs for the impending disaster, no telltale signs that anything was about to happen. Sachiko was a selfish, frustrated enough person that her tension could easily have been construed as her mistaking Kurokuma’s gesture as being at her. That would explain why her shoulders were so full of tension, why her hands were in tightly wound fists by her sides. So she, too, would be afraid to die? How interesting. After all, she was all but confirmed to be little more than a lying, manipulative mythic bitch. Like she’d actually care about the walking disaster that was Shinri.

While she looked over to the other girl, like she was trying to make sure Shinri still existed, Ren seemed to have something to say to the bear. Oh, god, an IOU, the favour, cashing it in, don’t execute anyone this time she was SAVED the one person she hadn’t sabotaged her relationship with was going to be SAFE everything was fine even if they could only save one like Kurokuma said that was fine Ren was normally such a reasonable person of course they wouldn’t let an innocent girl die over a confirmed killer like that, except they would, they would save Matsuo Krupin who’d gone to such elaborate lengths to kill someone, why, why punish her? Sure, she’d said some shit during that trial in agreement with the person Ren was expressing all sorts of bad feelings for, and sure, she wouldn’t have done the same in their position, but Shinri had done nothing wrong. Matsuo had done something wrong. Illogical. It was completely, utterly illogical, nothing more than a series of mistakes made from letting that pesky little bit of emotional reasoning and that was it. That was it, that was it, first it was Kiyoshi and then Tomoko and now it was Shinri why, God, couldn’t she have anything that even resembled a bit of happiness in her miserable, shitty life?

Option 1, challenge Kurokuma, face consequences for it. Whether it was her own life or something like what happened to everyone else who’d tried to fight him, it was useless, it’d just hurt them both and it wouldn’t fix the mistake everyone else had made. Option 2, challenge Ren, lose horribly, find no sympathy from them. The paper was already gone and as it burned, so did the bridge between them - she saw it as them being stubborn and inconsiderate, refusing to believe that she was the only one to blame for sabotaging any of her previously amicable relationships. Option 3, step up to take Shinri’s place…? No. Never. No matter how badly it hurt, she was not that kind of person. Even after she’d let herself be stupid enough to think someone else could make her just a little bit happier, she was not the type to put her own neck on the line. Not for anyone. She’d known that for a long time, she’d been like that for such a long time, then why, God, why was it only hurting now? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fucking fair, every time before now they’d put aside their stupid fucking feelings to punish the guilty and now neither of them were getting what they justly deserved and instead Shinri was getting punished for trying to be a good person. A better person than Sachiko could ever be. Someone who deserved to live while she died.

Her head remained lowered as everything processed, not looking at anyone, not Shinri, not Ren, not Matsuo. The corner of her lip turned up slightly as she made a small, a sort of choked sound - was it the start of laughter, or tears? “So that’s how it is,” she mused, her voice lacking any of her usual confidence, soft and shaky and vulnerable, “I see. I understand now. I-It’s perfectly clear, isn’t it?” More choked sobs permeated her words, her head remaining pointedly down like she had something to hide. Which, given her tendency to not express her emotions, coupled with very clearly having a lot of emotions to express? It was quite likely she DID have something to hide. “You’re the worst fucking hypocrites I’ve ever met in my life. Really, I have to congratulate you.” Finally she raised her head, a despondent smile, tears on her face, pain and hate and malice burning in her eyes.

“It’s an accomplishment! Really, I’d be proud of you stupid, self-righteous pricks if I didn’t hate each and every single one of you more than I think I’ve ever hated anyone in my life. Maybe you can all be proud of your accomplishment of getting someone innocent killed - at least half of you insufferable halfwits were ready to do that anyways, I’m sure it’s all the same to you as long as the guilty party walks free!” It wasn’t fair, she was getting frantic, this wasn’t like her and yet it was, there was that horrible little girl again, the one who complained about life not being fair whenever anything bad happened to her, who couldn’t just be grateful for what she had while she had it and oh, God, she really was about to lose it, wasn’t she?

“Shinri has done nothing to deserve this. I’d say I can’t believe you’d let that murderous fuck off the hook over her, but I can! I was right to have never trusted you.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, just the littlest bit. “I should have killed you when I had the chance - poisoned those stupid chocolates, wouldn’t have been hard, nothing I haven’t done before.” … That wasn’t supposed to come out, but Sachiko was - for once - too upset to really notice or care. “Hey, if I’d done it again now, maybe those of you who voted incorrectly on purpose would like me better since you seem to love killers so much!”

Stop while you’re ahead. They don’t need to hear any more. They don’t care about you, no one will be left to care about you shortly, they don’t get the luxury of knowing any more. To say Sachiko looked like a mess - crying, still kind of covered in a bit of face blood, generally dishevelled and probably at the worst she’d ever been - was one hell of an understatement. This wasn’t how she’d wanted it to go. Wiping her face as she turned to Shinri - she deserved so much better, dammit, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all - it was like her anger dissipated, was set on the backburner, as she took Shinri’s hands, desperately trying to look her in the eyes while she still could.

“I- Fuck, fuck fuck fuck I wish I could say it was going to be alright, but fuck, you’re the only person here I don’t think I could lie to anymore. I should have said it sooner. I should have fucking said it sooner. Shinri, I love you so fucking much.” With that, she leaned in for what would be her first and last kiss with her quite soon to be formal girlfriend. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to hurt. It was going to be nice and cute and not when she’d just been crying and she was going to finally be happy for once but even that was too much to ask, wasn’t it?

[cw: suicide talk]

She didn’t want to let go. She had to let go. It hurt so badly. It would hurt more to kill herself trying to save Shinri. Maybe she should kill herself anyways. It’d probably be the most beneficial thing she could do with her life knowing what Michi told her anyways. That wouldn’t fix anything either, though. There wasn’t any happiness for her anywhere. Not in life, not in this simulation, and while she wasn’t a betting woman, she would wager not even in death. Between the crying breathlessness and everything else she had to stop eventually but she couldn’t quite bring herself to let go of her hand yet, drying her eyes with her other arm.

Her grip was probably slightly tighter than comfortable on Shinri and while it was so clear from the hate still radiating that she had a lot to say, she simply swept up the remains of her shattered stone mask and pressed them back into a position adjacent to how they’d always been. It was bad enough that Shinri had already seen her cry - that’s not what she wanted her last memory of the behavioral psychologist to be, it wasn’t fair, not to her, not to Shinri. Her image was already ruined, and perhaps she had not been entirely truthful like she claimed to be. She’d put up whatever front, tell whatever lie, if Shinri only asked it of her she would tell whatever horrible lies she had to in order to make the last moments already ticking away so brutally just a little less painful, just a little bit better. Anything. Anything at all, please, just say the words just say something, anything, please, fuck, please just say something.

[ralphmorgan-blog1]

After the game, can the good feelings last?

(CNN)The congressional boys of summer ditched partisan hardball for seven innings of healing Thursday at their annual baseball classic just 36 hours after a horrifying gun rampage at a Republican batting practice.

But after the last at bat of a night of rare unity in Washington, and a game the Democrats won 11-2 in seven innings, some were wondering just how long the political truce will last. If history, and the current state of polarized, angry politics, is any guide it won't be long, even with the best of hopes and intentions.

With a special counsel narrowing in on the President, a contentious Obamacare repeal bill making its way through the Senate and a divisive budget and debt ceiling showdown looming, tensions are surely just on hold.

And while rattled lawmakers and staffers on Capitol Hill instinctively drew together after the shooting, sitting together at the game, that doesn't mean their constituents and attack dogs in warring partisan media establishments will heed a moment of Beltway togetherness.

Congressional baseball players: We must unite

"We are dealing with a deeply entrenched, deeply ingrained system that has been perpetuated for a long time, so is it easy to change? No. But can we, of course we can, we just have to have the will to do it," Republican Rep. Brian Fitzpatrick told CNN's Phil Mattingly.

Plenty of members of Congress, shocked at what happened Wednesday morning at baseball practice in suburban Alexandria, Virginia, and deeply concerned about their own safety are now talking about the need to conduct political debate in a more civil way.

Many connected the shooting rampage to the fearsome tone of current political rhetoric, since the shooter, James Hodgkinson, from Illinois, left anti-Trump screeds on his social media page.

"The poisonous atmosphere in Washington and the polarization in our country causes warped, twisted minds to do terrible things," Maine Sen. Susan Collins told CNN on Thursday.

Arizona Republican Rep. Martha McSally said that the rhetoric in the country had reached such levels that civil debate was all but impossible.

"Things are enflamed to such a hot point right now," she said, bemoaning the "rhetoric, the hatred, the vitriol, the inability to have a discussion about sincerely held beliefs and debate them but not be disagreeable with each other."

But is there any real reason to believe anything will change?

After all, when normal politics resumes it will do so at one of the most contentious Washington moments in years. A new president, barely in office five months, could soon be under investigation by a special counsel Robert Mueller for obstruction of justice -- and is furious about it.

Should the investigation produce an impeachment drama, the nation will embark on the most traumatic national political process possible considering whether to remove an elected President before his time.

However that ends, it will leave scars for years to come.

Many people in the political world had quietly worried that violence was a lamentably possible extension of a presidential campaign in which Trump baited angry crowds and liberals ridiculed and insulted him.

In a sign of how the political dialogue has deteriorated, it's now normal for the President of the United States to spread obvious falsehoods, to brand the media the "enemy of the American people" and for his opponents to openly call him a liar.

Now, it seems, even something as quintessentially American as playing baseball might require members of Congress to take along a phalanx of armed guards.

Some members are now talking about arming themselves at public events.

GOP rep regrets heated rhetoric, will carry firearm

Far from easing, the bile had been rising in recent months, challenging the barriers of political taste and convention.

For instance, there was a controversy in which comedian Kathy Griffin posed with photos of a severed head mask in the likeness of President Trump.

Amid Griffin outrage, the left asks: What about Ted Nugent?

And even as he offered a videotaped message of unity at Thursday night's baseball game, Trump's campaign sent out a fundraising email targeting Democrats.

"After their BILLION-DOLLAR election loss, all Democrats have done is OBSTRUCT President Trump and maniacally scream the word 'RUSSIA' until they're blue in the face," the email read.

"They've sparked protests in the streets, refused to approve White House nominees, destroyed our health care system, and used the media to spew vicious rhetoric against the President."

Democratic House leader Nancy Pelosi earlier pushed back hard at suggestions by some conservatives that left wing rhetoric was to blame for Wednesday's attack.

"I think that the comments made by my Republican colleagues are outrageous, beneath the dignity of the job that they hold, beneath the dignity of the respect that we would like Congress to command," she said. Later however, Pelosi appeared in more conciliatory mood in a joint interview with House Speaker Paul Ryan on CNN.

Even the business of regular politics is laced with contention.

Senators may soon vote on a Republican health care bill that would repeal Obamacare, that opponents decry as ripping away coverage from the old, the sick and the poor. Emotions will run riot on both sides of the aisle.

No one knows what the GOP health plan is, even Republicans

Before the fall, a new government funding crisis is expected which will fray tempers and will leave the good feelings of Thursday night a distant memory.

And even as most of Washington avoided new battles Thursday out of deference to Scalise and the others injured, Trump was settling old scores, in a furious reaction to the widening scope of the Russia investigation.

"Why is that Hillary Clinton's family and Dems dealings with Russia are not looked at, but my non-dealings are?" Trump wrote on Twitter.

All the President's tweets

But while it is undeniable that Trump has added a contentious new note to Washington politics -- the blame is not his alone.

In many ways he is the culmination of fury and resentment that's been boiling for years, fueled by contentious elections, partisan meltdowns in Washington and a balkanized media sector which often serves to solidify extremes of opinion.

In one sign of the acrimony, one of the most outspoken Republican flamethrowers, Steve King of Iowa, returned to a familiar target when assigning blame for the outrage at the baseball diamond in Alexandria.

"I do want to put some of this at the feet of Barack Obama," the Iowa congressman said in an interview with Simon Conway on WHO Iowa radio.

"He contributed mightily to dividing us. He focused on our differences rather than our things that unify us. And this is some of the fruits of that labor."

King was an exception. But the idea that a single violent incident, like Wednesday's, could change the political climate has been expressed after tragedies before -- and been shown to be empty hope.

Things didn't change after Democratic Rep. Gabrielle Giffords was shot in 2011 at a political event in Tucson -- though many people expressed hopes that they would.

Back then, Obama delivered a heart searing eulogy to a little girl, Christina-Taylor Green, who was just discovering a fascination with politics, but was killed at the Giffords event, hoping she was dancing in "rain puddles in heaven."

"I want us to live up to her expectations," Obama said. "I want our democracy to be as good as she imagined it."

Everyone knows how that turned out.

But despite that, there are still some optimists.

Mark Kelly, Giffords' husband, told CNN's Jake Tapper on Wednesday that acrid political rhetoric had consequences but change was not impossible.

"I think it can happen if people are really motivated to make it happen. it happened after what happened in Tucson for a little bit," Kelly said.

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