#anders breakdown hours

[alexa-crowe]

hawke finding out during legacy that their last two family members are going to die early deaths, too...

[pillowprincessvarric]

How did the post breakdown situation of Adrian living with Fenris (iirc) start? who’s. Idea was that. deeply traumatized roomies I’m dying to know more (if you’re comfy w it) -mabari-enthusiast

So the first thing you need to know is that Adrian moving out of the Estate was a very sudden thing and not really like, planned. He stormed out of the house while him & Leandra were arguing (again) (it was bad this time) (Adrian felt like he Had To Get Out Of Here Immediately or else he was going to snap for real) and then realized he was not emotionally capable of going back so he just... didn't.

And on the night he stormed out he happened to bump into Fenris, who was on his way back home from a job. They made some extremely awkward "hi, how are you" conversation (Adrian was visibly distressed and hiding it very poorly) (also they weren't really friends at this point they just sort of knew each other. And Fenris hadn't seen him since before he left for the Deep Roads & still had siblings so it's. Y'know.), which becomes "where are you off to this time of night?" -> Adrian realizes he hasn't thought about it -> "are you okay?" -> I've been better -> "it's not really my business, Hawke, but I think it's a really bad idea for you to be walking around aimlessly, clearly upset, unarmed, in the middle of the night" -> yeah I agree -> "maybe you should go home?" -> Can't -> "okay well that's none of my business. Do you want to come in for a little bit so you can collect yourself?" -> yeah but it won't be for very long I promise. I don't want to put you out. 20 minutes, tops.

Adrian immediately fell asleep on his couch and slept for 10 hours straight. And then after he finally woke up he tried to apologize by cleaning up a little before getting really worried that Fenris would take him doing that as an (*cough* admittedly deserved) criticism of his living space and then freaked himself out and left. It was a deeply mortifying experience for him, but for Fenris it was just kind of a weird thing that happened.

Adrian spent the next couple of weeks like, couch surfing basically. Mostly alternating between crashing at Varric's place and the clinic, but also a couple of night's at Elegant's and a few individual nights on Fenris' couch again, on purpose and prearranged this time because now that Adrian's spending all this time at the Hanged Man they bump into each other a lot more often and Adrian keeps paying for his drinks because he's still embarrassed and wants to apologize. Fenris does think this is weird but he also isn't going to stop him.

Anyways. They kind of hang out now.

Eventually Adrian is like "okay, I can't keep living like this." And he is tentatively working things out with Leandra at this point but also knows that things will just start to deteriorate again if he goes back to living with her rn, so moving back to the Estate is not an option. He feels weird taking advantage of Varric's hospitality any more than he already has (and Varric would never let him pay rent so he would feel bad about it the whole time), Anders isn't an option because again, he would feel bad & weird about it, also they would kill each other. Elegant would absolutely let him rent one of her spare rooms but she lives in kind of an odd out-of-the-way part of Hightown so ye olde commute would suck + there's some other personal baggage in there, so it's not really ideal but he also doesn't know very many people and the other rental opportunities in Hightown are generally kind of, sketch, so it might be his only option.

"Yeah Red, that's rough. Too bad we don't know anyone who lives in a huge mansion all alone, conveniently close to your mother, who you already get along with, and could definitely benefit from a consistent couple of silvers every month but won't take charity. That would just solve all your problems at once." <- quote from Varric Tethras

He has to say that like three times before Adrian completely independently comes up with the idea to ask Fenris if he can rent one of his rooms. An arrangement that Fenris was already primed to be receptive to because Isabela said to him something along the lines of "yeah honestly what would probably improve your situation the most would be a consistent passive income of some sort. It's too bad we don't know any functionally homeless new money guys who come with the added bonus of being someone who cleans when they are upset and is in the middle of a breakdown of some sort so is therefore cleaning all of the time (you live in a hovel btw)"

"The living room is looking nice lately" <- quote from Fenris

(I can neither confirm nor deny whether Varric & Isabela were in cahoots on this. They may or may not have coordinated offscreen. Impossible to say)

So that's how that happened, basically.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Nita Strauss - The Call Of The Void

While it's common for bands and solo artists to release albums, it's more uncommon these days to see an instrumental musician release a solo album, especially in certain genres. Jazz music, for example, is known for instrumental albums, and many different artists have released their own records by themselves, or with other musicians, but rock and metal aren't known for that. They're known for singers to release solo albums, but not musicians. That's why the sophomore solo album, entitled The Call Of The Void, from guitarist Nita Strauss is very interesting. Strauss has been getting a lot of buzz and hype lately, thanks to being both a guitarist of Alice Cooper's backing band and Demi Lovato's backing band, but she's also found the time to release solo albums, starting with 2018's Uncontrolled Chaos. I've never listened to that, but instrumental albums can be kind of overwhelming and intimidating, especially if they're long. That album was quite long, if I recall, but so is The Call Of The Void. What separates this one, however, is that Strauss does the smart thing by making this record a bit more accessible by adding a handful of guest vocalists from the worlds of rock and metal.

Both records are still around an hour long (this one is even longer if you include the instrumental versions of the songs with vocalists on them), but this one doesn't feel its length. The album is littered with a variety of instrumental cuts and songs with vocalists, so it makes for an interesting listen. Hell, even just the list of guest vocalists is interesting, and should make most rock and metal fans curious about this, thanks to featuring Lzzy Hale of Halestorm, Chris Motionless of Motionless In White, Alissa White-Gluz of Arch Enemy, David Draiman of Disturbed, Anders Friden of In Flames, and Alice Cooper himself. There are a few more, but those are some huge names. You'd think that this record would be a mixed bag, because each song would sound different, or the quality would vary between vocalists, but it doesn't. Honestly, I love The Call Of The Void, and this is easily one of the best rock and metal albums I've heard all year (possibly of the last few years as well). The sad thing is, this record will go unnoticed by a lot of people because Strauss isn't a household name just yet. This record has a very consistent sound and feel to it, all the while having enough variety in each track to make it a unique listen. Every song goes between hard-rock and heavy metal, whereas some tracks leans towards metalcore, arena-rock, melodic death metal, and nu-metal, but there's just enough of the "core" sound of this record that keep them all somewhat similar, especially when Strauss comes in at various points with killer riffs and solos.

Yeah, as great as a lot of the vocalists are here (more on that in a second), Strauss herself is the best part of it. Her guitarplaying is utterly fantastic, and I find myself really going back to some of the instrumental cuts on here, such as opener "Summer Storm," or "Consume The Fire," "Scorched," and "Momentum." The songs with vocalists are great, too, and a lot of them feature fantastic hooks that really get stuck in your head, as well as some great riffs and solos that showcase her playing very well, despite being a more accessible sound. One could argue that she limits herself by contorting her playing to that of the guest vocalists, and to an extent, I can understand that, but it's also a testament to the amount of different styles she can play and not miss a beat. She doesn't sound out of place at any point. She can play nu-metal / alt-metal with David Draiman on "Dead Inside," hard-rock with Lzzy Hale on "Through The Noise," or melodic death metal with Alissa White-Gluz on "The Wolf You Feed," and it all sounds natural. Even the metalcore cut on this record with Chris Motionless, "Digital Bullets," still works very well, because alongside a pretty solid breakdown, there's a great solo in that song (definitely one of the best on the album).

The album's length at around an hour may turn some people off, and I get that, but I find myself coming back to this album a lot. I get super excited when certain tracks come up, because I'm just so excited to listen to it over and over. If you enjoy hard-rock and/or heavy metal in any capacity, I'd listen to this. It doesn't do anything that you haven't heard before, but the solos, riffs, and hooks are enough to really elevate this album. The vocalists on here never become the sole focus of the record, which can be an issue when musicians feature vocalists, because the vocalists can take center stage, but just when you think that the vocalists are becoming the most important part, Strauss comes through with a face-melting solo that reminds you that this is her record. Adding vocalists, however, is a very good idea, because it makes for a more accessible and digestible listen. Sure, it's around an hour, but it doesn't lose its edge, momentum, or interest. It never gets boring, and that's surprising with albums this long, but I've always said that it takes the right album to keep me engaged for more than 40 - 45 minutes. If an album can do that, it's something special, and boy, this album is something special. it's one of the best of the year, so check it out.

[awellboiledicicle]

The order of events that lead to Hawke and Anders being aboard the Nautiloid are a bit scattershot, in keeping with just how much the universe likes to jerk the two of them around, specifically.

Event the first: Hawke volunteers to stay behind in the Fade to distract the Nightmare so that Thedas would have a prayer of restoring the Wardens and allowing the Inquisitor and company to escape. Hawke is presumed dead.

Event the second: Varric Tethras pens a letter to each of Hawke's former companions to alert them of his passing. This includes, naturally, a long letter to Hawke's husband, Anders. The letter includes both the sad news and the strongest possible sentiment that Anders should not do anything rash about this news.

Third: Anders receives the letter and has an emotional breakdown that ends several hours later with him curled up on the floor of the cave he'd been hiding in. Choosing to either find Hawke trapped in the Fade or die trying, Anders makes the decision to attempt entering the Fade via one of the many rifts opening across the landscape. Justice does not stop him expressly because he honestly did not think it would be possible.

Fourth: Anders enters the Fade and Justice gains control of their body. They search for, and locate, Hawke after expending a great deal of willpower to mold the landscape enough to actually reach him. The pair are knocked into the void by the Nightmare and assume themselves doomed.

Lastly: While fleeing the githyanki pursuit, the Nautiloid flashes into the plain containing Thedas and the Fade. Hawke and Anders are abducted largely by coincidence.

Which, as you can see from the above red string cork board, is where the Absolute fucked up.

Not yet pictured is Anders getting wormed after Lae'zel, being put back to sleep as the worm tries to fight the taint in his blood, Hawke getting worm'd, and then Justice taking over once the Mindflayer leaves-- expelling the worm as he essentially burns it out of them. Justice physically ripping himself out of the pod after Lae'zel fucks off [she didn't listen when he asked for help and he's very annoyed by this], and then just hammering on Hawke's pod until it opened and then hauling Hawke up by the front of his fucked up armor like "get your shit together, we have things to kill and safety to get to and Anders cannot help" and also "I cannot believe you did this if it wouldn't be counter productive i would kill you, is2g". But in Justice terms, so it's more "Prepare yourself, we are beset. Anders cannot aid you, so i shall suffice." And after Hawke gets his feet and scrounges up a few daggers on the way through the corridors, its "Your decision in the Fade was unwise. Anders was compromised. Do not do this again, it was unpleasant."

Lae'zel is just happy to have two people for back up instead of none, even though one is very much just wailing on imps with whatever weapon he can pick up. Because while Justice prefers a sword, he'll use what he has available that Anders' body can heft. And Anders is surprisingly strong for being a mage. He does, however, notice Hawke is slow and comments on it.

"Sorry, the bloody worm in my skull might be throwing me off, Justice!"

"We shall see it removed, then. You will not be able to keep Anders safe like this."

"Fucking watch me."

"I will have no choice."

Lae'zel does not appreciate the banter. "Tch, less talking and more fighting!"

"I can multitask." Justice insists, grabbing hold of an Imp's head and squeezing until it popped.

"You're being a lot clearer than usual--" A dodge of a gout of fire before a well placed stab takes out another imp. "Is this still the Fade?"

"No." With a grunt he buried a hand axe into yet another imp. "The worm's magic overpowered him. This is simply what occurs when he cannot muddle things."

"He doesn't muddle--"

"I will not argue the balance of my being with someone outside of it. Be content that he shall be safe when we are free of this place." He fixed his gaze on Hawke as the last imp fell. "I am no longer complete alone, this will not be sustainable."

"Is he hurt?"

"I believe the pain is emotional, as is the relief. He is weakened and would not survive in control." He pulled a long sword from under a dead thrall and tested its weight. "Come, we must reach this helm before my hold fails."

Lae'zel continues to be annoyed by the chatter. Justice is mostly doing it because he hasn't been able to actually speak when he surges to the fore. Fronting isn't easy for him, it's almost always in a dangerous scenario and his being is very intertwined with Anders' so he gets waylaid by anything Anders is feeling at the time. Which means he tends to overreact and thus why conversation doesn't exactly fucking happen.

Shadowheart's just going to see this little band come to her pod and Justice absolutely will just rip the fucker open. A Just Action. Just wrenches it off and informs Shadowheart they're going to the helm-- only to pause when Hawke's worm does the brain connection thing. All Shadowheart knows is they have a giant glowstick of a man with them and he's very focused. Hawke is looking at shit and pocketing stuff while they hurry, but he's still hurrying.

Anders will absolutely not believe Hawke that Justice was vaguely chill later. It would make him feel both better--that his personality is intact--and worse--that HIS emotions are what twists his responses.

Also not pictured is Justice yeeting himself out of the ship after Hawke gets knocked out and just. clinging on to slow his fall before they hit the ground. The added durability of his control is largely why they weren't unconscious by the time Hawke wakes up but it was Work to keep aware and in control so Anders wasn't just passed out on the beach.

Ponderin

[vigilskeep]

okay. but how's your irving's pet student surana who avoided anders because he's a rebel ended up as a blood mage who confronts wynne in such short time.

that’s the fun of the arc she goes through during dao! :D

the first thing you need to understand is that minerva doesn’t start out as a brainwashed chantry loyalist. she’s irving’s creature in that she’s a survivalist. whatever mixed feelings she has on the circles (and she’s had people she cares about made tranquil) they exist whether any of them like it or not, and if you can’t adapt then you’re not going to make it. minerva happens to be marked out in the circle for reasons outside of her control: she’s extremely talented, she’s an elf, she’s got tevinter heritage. she’s spent her life since she was nine being anybody she has to be to avoid notice. she is polite, she is obedient, she is charming, every hour of every day. without fail. she didn’t avoid anders because she didn’t like him, but because association with him is dangerous, and—since his behaviour makes him, in her opinion, little more than a dead man walking—rather a waste of time. this is the kind of strategy by which people like irving become master manipulator first enchanters who are part of the system that crushes their fellow mages, and i have no doubt she’d be one eventually if it weren’t for the one breakdown in her life strategy: she loves her friend.

here’s the other thing you need to know about minerva from the first: she has a fatal arrogant streak. minerva has all this ruthlessly practical understanding of the circles, but perhaps childishly, she believes firstly that she knows jowan and secondly that she’s smart enough now to be able to pull one over on the templars and protect him. we all know how well that goes. she’s terrified to leave the circle (because it’s the place she knows how to deal with) and argues with duncan on her recruitment, but she’s a survivor, so she goes.

minerva’s experiences outside the circle are a pretty efficient way to break down every chantry principle she does have. the grey wardens openly use blood in their joining ritual. alistair places her in a position of leadership without question. morrigan uses her magic as it pleases her, and this has not made her an abomination. minerva does nature of the beast first; the dalish answer to their mages, not the other way around. she does redcliffe second; her magic makes her a saviour and protector. when the time comes to choose what to do with connor, she agrees to return to the circle to seek help to free him. she witnesses the templars cowering in fear at the door while mages like wynne and niall risk their lives attempting to protect their people and stop uldred. and she witnesses how incredibly powerful blood magic is!

once again the arrogance kicks in. other mages lose control in the face of demons. but minerva has fought through the fade and slain countless of their number, minerva is among the best students kinloch hold has ever seen, minerva controlled herself so perfectly for over a decade in the tower, why shouldn’t she be able to handle blood magic? if jowan could! if the chantry is wrong about so much, why not this? so when it’s only after all this that she returns to redcliffe to confront connor’s desire demon, she makes the gambit for blood magic. and ironically the skills of coercion she learned so well for the templars are what lets her intimidate the demon into giving her those powers without making a deal. she uses those powers in the dark of the deep roads and in the chaos of the final days of the blight. she doesn’t like it, but she’s desperate. minerva doesn’t just want to save ferelden, she wants to be the one who saved ferelden, precisely because she is a mage, an elf, a daughter of tevinter, a daughter of the alienage, all those things that marked her out. she will gamble her soul if that’s what it takes for a person like that to have the strength to win this and be remembered as the hero. she’s aware of this and afraid of this in herself—facing enemies like branka who make similar moral sacrifices for their one bright shining goal is always a punch to the gut and results in her most moral decisions to try and make up for seeing that ugly mirror—but that doesn’t make it any less true

and yeah, okay, she does love how powerful it makes her, too. but she was powerless for so long.

as for poor wynne, she’s kind of perfectly designed to bring out every single rebellious tendency minerva has. minerva’s also a solid three quests into the blight by the time she picks up wynne. it’s uniquely galling to be a fairly experienced leader now, finally respected, finally independent, and suddenly have a circle authority figure in camp trying to explain to her what being a grey warden is “really about”, and questioning her relationships (which imo is kind of a faux pas on wynne’s part from a circle mage perspective—you keep quiet on that stuff! you do not start throwing the word love around!). minerva’s ten times more outspoken at this point, she’s very obviously making up for all those years biting her tongue, and she does not respond well to being patronised or criticised. (cough cough: it’s the arrogance... again. but also the insecurity about what she’s done)

[vignettesfromceres]

Prepare to Dock

“Prepare to dock, Anders.”

“Preparing to dock,” replied the ship's computer.

Gerald waited as the ship inched closer to the small asteroid. Eight metal legs stretched out from the sides and sunk their hooks into the solid surface of the asteroid, latching on and drawing the ship down to the surface.

“Ship successfully docked to asteroid,” Anders said as the ship came to a rest.

“Deploy drones.”

“Drones deployed.”

With that, dozens of four foot long robots poured out from the back of the ship and began cutting into the surface of the asteroid. Each would break off a section and take it into the processing hold where the ore would be crushed, the rubble sorted according to its major component and stored accordingly.

After 6 hours the last remnants of the 1000 ton boulder were carried onto the ship. Gerald fired up the thrusters and set course for Ceres.  

Ceres itself is a protected body, a tourist haven in the belt. But once you get out past the hotel stations, casinos and other touristy places you found what look like lines of giant Ferris wheels all spinning at different speeds. There were ore depots, refineries, ship stops, garages, storage facilities (both pressurized and shielded, and not,) saloons, brothels, gambling joints, clubs, and of course at the center of it all, the shipping yard.

Gerald cruised over to his regular ore depot to offload his cargo. He pulled up next to a dock on the massive rotating structure, matching its velocity to pair up. Here Anders took over to make the connection between the cargo bay and the dock. Gerald could feel the constant velocity pulling him down to the floor of the ship, simulating the effects of gravity, more than the Moon's but less than Mars'.

“Docking complete,” Anders chimed out. “You may now move about the cabin.” He said in a mocking voice.

Gerald rolled his eyes as he got up and walked over to the cargo bay control panel. Pressing a few buttons he ensured the seal was made and confirmed his cargo configuration then opened the bay doors and allowed the ores to be pulled down into the receiving bays. Once the dust had settled the station's system analyzed the masses of the various ores and credited Gerald's account accordingly. An invoice flashed on the control panel's screen showing him the breakdown and the deposit amount: $P400.

Gerald patched through to the station.

“Four hundred platinum, Derek!? Really? It should have been six fifty, easy!” Gerald shouted into the mic.

“Sorry Ger, iron's down thirty cents.” A light, flamboyant voice responded. “Aztech Aero found a cluster of low ‘bido iron. Brought in half a million tons of pure iron.”

Gerald's mouth hung open a second. “Okay, four hundred then. Let’s go, Anders.” ______________________________________________________

“So Gerald, where too? The Solar Well?” Anders said sarcastically.

“Yeah, how about no. That place is too overrated. I’m thinking Electric Goat.” Gerald said.

“Plotting course.”

“Dude, it’s five-k away. I just. You- don’t need to say that stuff every time.” Gerald stammered shaking his head. “Whatever, set course.”

A minute later Anders was docking to the Electric Goat bar and grille. It was an eclectic restaurant, signs and memorabilia plastered all over the place, electronic house and trance music playing just soft enough for conversation to be had. Gerald dropped into the restaurant and made his way over to his favorite section and sat at the bar. A small screen attached to the counter displayed the menu in front of him allowing him to select his order- water, a bottle of root beer, a lamb gyro and onion rings.

“Sup loser!”

It was Lynda, a fellow independent prospector and friend of Gerald.

“Hey! What’s cookin’ girl?” Gerald shot back.

“Oh you know, same ol’ same ol’.” Lynda said, taking a seat next to Gerald. “You hear about Aztech’s haul?”

“Yeah. Lost out and one fifty because of it.” He said with a sigh. “But! Still got four hundred. So it’s not all bad.”

“Lucky. I had a load of pure iron. Brought it in just an hour after the price change.”

Gerald gave her a comforting pat on the back as he shoved a fresh, hot, onion ring into his mouth from the plate that had just arrived. “Hrmph herf herry.”

Lynda glared at him as crumbs fell from his mouth.

“I was saying ‘that’s rough buddy.’”

She shook her head. “You and your old shows and games.”

He shrugged sheepishly but he didn’t care, he loved his early 21st century media, even if it was old and outdated. “Did you catch the latest ep of Dagger?”

“I sit in a ship for hours on end doing nothing. Of course I did. What did you think when Sven and Claudia finally kissed? Man it was cheesy, but I’ve been shipping them since season two and it’s about time!” Lynda said enthusiastically.

“Heh, yeah that was cute. I was thinking of the part where Miles took out Viktor. That part was so tense. I got worried the writers were actually gonna do Miles in for real.” They continued on for another hour as they ate.

“Oh! Come back to my ship, I’ve got something to show you. I know you’ll just love it.” Lynda said as they were getting up to leave. Gerald followed, curious as to what it could be that she had.

[nobodycallsmerae]

Hey, I hope you’re well! 🙃Can I ask #7 and #32?

Hi hi!! I'm fine! I hope you're doing great too!! I've written another shot based on prompt #32, (which im quite proud of) and you can find it here. You haven't mentioned a pairing, so I'm just gonna write for bbrae :)

I humbly tried to dabble into the holy world of office romance. You should see my manhwa reading list. My last 6-7 webcomics are filled with office romances XoX

____

'What? But I've been working overtime for the past twelve days!' He whined, practically on the verge of tears.

'Well that's tragic,' The vice president rolled her eyes. 'But you are my secretary now, and you have to be competent in what you do.'

'But..!'

Raven Roth had no idea how she'd gotten herself into this situation.

She was the vice president of a successful company, an accomplished and respected 28-year-old woman, but now she was stuck here, in her office, arguing pointlessly with a man-child.

Her old secretary (and only friend) Kory Anders, was on her honeymoon, leaving Raven with.. Him.

‘No “buts” Mr. Logan,’ Raven cut him off. ‘The company is going through a critical time now, and I want every employee to give their hundred percent. And you-’

Sometimes she wondered why she didn’t just fire him, but, truth be told, even if he was messy, and lazy, and was definitely not used to working behind the table, 27-year-old Garfield Logan was actually quite good at what he did.

And also that her old secretary had personally hired him, and Raven did not want to deal with an angry Kory Anders.

‘M-Mr. Logan are you…?’ She looked at her now secretary, who had slumped shoulders and was looking downwards.

‘How do you expect me to work like this?!’ He finally snapped, looking up at her and walking closer to her desk. ‘I get sleep for a grand total of three hours a day, I haven’t had a proper meal and have been practically living on caffeine and I don’t have any plants in my new apartment!!’

‘Plants…?’ She raised an eye-brow.

‘I just needed a third thing, okay?’ Gar cried out. He took a few deep breaths and with his chin touching his chest, his shoulders began to shake.

‘Mr. Lo- Logan are you… cryi-’

‘Yes! Yes, I’m having a mental breakdown right now!’ He exclaimed, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. ‘You may be perfect, Ms. Roth, but I am not! I’m nowhere near perfect, and I’m trying my best to keep up with you here. I’m trying my best, I swear, but I can’t anymore. You’ve ought to give me a break. If I had a girlfriend, I bet she’d want me to quit.’

‘..Well, you don’t have a girlfriend…’ Raven quietly muttered, feeling kind of guilty all of a sudden.

‘Because I’ve been working for you the whole time!!’ Gar yelled, watching her wince as he did.

He finally exhaled, and calmed himself. He stepped back, and suddenly, a professional aura surrounded him, which made Raven blink twice.

‘..I’m sorry Ms. Roth.’ He regarded her. ‘I’m sorry for behaving in an-’

A quite peculiar, but not not-good sound made him stop in his tracks, and in front of him, he could see his superior…. Laughing?

Gar had worked for Raven Roth for almost a month now, and he had never even seen the sides of her lips turning upwards, often making him wonder if they were fixed in a slight frown. But now, in front of him at 10 pm, The Raven Roth was laughing her heart out. Gar blinked, and even rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating, because, truthfully, the scene in front of him was… making his heart flutter.

‘I-I’m sorry Mr. Logan..’ Raven said between laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘But no employee has ever talked to me like that before… I would say that you’re almost being… cute.’

‘Well.. of course they haven’t,’ Gar coughed, trying to hide his obvious blush. ‘They’re practically working zombies…’

‘Heh, well you know what,’ Raven sighed, rolling her stiff shoulders into her plush chair. 'You can go home for today… But, I need those papers present on my table by next Monday. Understand?'

'Yes, Ma'am!!' Gar happily exclaimed, saluting her.

‘I may say… you’re being quite perky for someone who was whimpering not two seconds ago.’

‘Heh.. yeah, about that..’ He blushed, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Can we just pretend the last five minutes of our lives never happened?’

‘Even the time I told you to wrap it up for the day?’ Raven slyly played along, not knowing what had gotten into her… but not disliking it either. ‘Okay, then, get the files from-’

She looked at him, pouting like a cute little puppy which was kicked in the- wait…

...Cute?

Raven Roth didn’t think things were cute, let alone other humans. She didn’t go around swooning over other men like some women, but what had invaded her thoughts right now?

Well, she did say that the puppy was cute… that had to count for something, right?

‘It’s okay, Mr. Logan, you may go. I was just messing with you.’

‘Phew.’ With a hand on his fine chest, the secretary let out a sigh. Wait, fi- ‘And also, now that we’re off the clock, please, you can call me Gar, Rav-’

‘And you may call me Ms. Roth.’

‘Ms. Roth.’ He smiled. He slightly bowed his head as a silent greeting and walked out of her office.

Raven thought about continuing her work, like she’s been doing every single night-

‘Mr. Garfield?’ She called out, surprising herself as she did.

‘Si?’ Gar immediately popped his head back into her office, almost as if he’d been standing in front of the door the whole time.

Now that he was looking oh-so intently at her, she blushed. And the last time the vice president had blushed was probably(?) when she was in kindergarden…

‘I.. J-just.. I wanted…’ Raven stumbled, making Gar raise his eye-brows with disbelief. ‘Just.. ah, thank you. I.. I needed this. This may seem a little out of character for me-’

‘A little?’ He teased.

‘Okay, well,’ She huffed. ‘This may not seem like myself, but..’ She sighed, almost bashfully fingering the folders on her table. ‘You know I don’t have many friends, everybody knows that. There are only people who are more-or-less fearful of me because of my designation. And ever since Kory went on her… vacation, I have just been working without a care in the world. But… this, whatever weird little confrontation we had right now… it was refreshing. I really needed that laugh, honestly,’ She chuckled. ‘So.. thank you.’

Gar’s face was colored red, and she was almost sure it mirrored hers, but he just smiled. ‘Anytime.’ He winked. 'And.. I'm your friend now! So don't hesitate to come to me anytime you're in need of a pal.'

Raven awkwardly smiled and got back to the task she was doing on her computer.

‘Umm.. Ms. Roth, aren’t you gonna go home too?’

‘Huh, me? No.’ She shook her head, stifling a yawn. ‘I have this presentation to be tak-’

‘What? But today is Friday.. You have the whole weekend ahead of you! You should take a break!’

‘No, Mr. Loga- Garfield, it’s okay.’ He'd taken a seat on one of the chairs in front of her table. ‘You should go ahead...’

‘Oh, Ms. Roth..’ He sighed. ‘If you take a break now, and get a decent good night’s sleep while you still can, you’ll be refreshed and will be more energized to do your work later on; which will make your work even better! So.. what do ya’ say?’

Gar smiled at her, but he seemed dumbfounded once he saw the expression on her face. She was blushing, very heavily, and Gar wasn’t sure if he’d done something which made her face flush. He raised an eye-brow, to which Raven shyly responded by pointing towards her desk with her eyes. As he looked down at where her eyes were pointed, he saw that his hands were covering hers, almost in an affectionate way.

‘Ahem.’ He pulled back at once, his face flushed with shock and embarrassment.

Raven tried regaining her composure, flattening the front of her suit as a distraction and trying to not concentrate on the warmth that was still lingering on her usually cold hands.

‘Well, Mr. Logan, I thank you for your concern, but…’ The VP sighed, eyeing the files on her desk, thinking back on what had happened a few moments ago. Raven wasn’t the kind of person to reconsider things; She had a schedule and she followed it accordingly. But she also wasn’t the kind of person who’d be easily flustered around people, blush (so many times!), or have such… inappropriate thoughts about a co-worker. (Raven believes “cute” is highly inappropriate.) She also made a mental note to go for a health check-up soon, because she wasn’t sure if her heart was supposed to be beating so fast. Or be missing beats.

‘..I’m going to say something and regret it real quick.’ She mumbled. ‘Okay.. have it your way!’

‘Sweet!’ Gar laughed. ‘Seeing as we’re the only people left, let’s head out together!’ He suggested before walking out.

Raven looked dazed for a moment, but then quickly sorted through the files and folders. She organised what she needed and what she would take a look at later, and sighed at her empty table.

Rummaging through her bag, she looked for her car keys. ‘Shit.’

'You okay?' He called out to her. 'Whoa, that was so cool!' She heard him say to himself as his voice echoed through the empty office.

'Nothing, just..' She exhaled. 'I locked the keys in the car, and my spare keys are at home...' She looked frustrated.

'Oh man...' Gar stood at her door, looking down. 'Uhh, can't you just call up your butler or something?'

'It's almost 11 at night, Garfield.' She let out a long sigh.

'Wait.. but can't you rich people like, call your butlers anytime and they'll be present?'

'What do you think this is, a no-budget fanfiction?' Raven rolled her eyes. Her head was laying on her clean table, and Gar couldn't help but blush after seeing her look so laid-back in front of him. 'Well, I can call them, but I wouldn't want to disturb them. Besides, I can just call a cab for now.'

'Or I could give you a ride!' Gar abruptly suggested.

'Umm?' The woman awkwardly raised an eye-brow, not able to find her words to reply to him.

'I mean..' He started, scratching the back of his neck. 'I was the one who suggested we wrap up for the day, and I'm here with you now. If anything were to happen to you, it is really unsafe now, late at night, I wouldn't help but feel responsible. So let me-'

'Garfield.. I-' Raven blushed. 'I don't think it will be suitable for me to accompany a co-worker like this... And also if people think there's an ulterior motive-'

'I don't have any ulterior motives, Rae.' He smiled. 'I'm just a concerned guy looking out for a friend.'

'Very well... Thank you, Garfield.' She looked down at her table, trying to hide her flushed face. 'Also, nobody calls me "Rae".'

'Yes ma'am!' The secretary smiled and walked out to his cubicle to get his things, leaving Raven alone in her office.

Right then, Raven Roth knew something had changed. Be it the atmosphere or herself, she wasn't sure, but something had definitely changed between her and this Gar Logan.

Maybe it was just one-sided; maybe it was because nobody had made her laugh like that, (even though he didn't do it on purpose.), maybe because no one else had ever suggested her to leave her precious work and get sleep. It could be because for the first time, someone had talked to her as Raven (...or Rae) and not “Vice President, Miss. Roth”. Or probably because it was the first time somebody had cared for her enough to stay back and offer a ride.

She wasn't sure why (or what exactly), but she knew something had changed... and in the deepest, darkest corners of her mind, Raven selfishly hoped it didn't change back.

‘You ready?’ He reappeared at her office, bowing a little melodramatically as he caught her eye.

'Yeah…' Raven smiled. 'I'm ready.'

____

Believe it or not the whole meltdown-in-front-of-lady-boss thing is based on a real incident lmho.

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this!! Please share your thoughts :>

[send me a prompt]

[potatowitch]

For the character breakdown - Merrill?

AAAA YES (most of this went under a cut bc ... uh ... long)

How I feel about this character

I love Merrill. She's sweet as all hell, incredibly kind, and I love how she gets lost and doesn't always pick up on dirty jokes or nuance - my ADHD ass relates to her so much it's unreal.

Her romance on the friendship route is so ... good? Wholesome? She approaches it with hesitation because she can't believe that Hawke, who she looks up to and admires (seriously, she tells femHawke she's "some sort of goddess") actually wants her, but she doesn't shy away from it. She lets Hawke make that choice, and allows herself to be glad that Hawke chooses her. She throws herself into loving Hawke wholeheartedly and without reservation.

She's also far, far smarter than people give her credit for. Every run I do I support her blood magic and what she's doing with the mirror because she knows her shit. She knows what she's doing is dangerous, so she takes precautions. She's not stupid, she's not naive. She knows that people see her that way and even plays it up just to mess with them sometimes. She cures the fucking Blight on the Eluvian. She responds to Anders and Fenris criticising her so beautifully and without anger. She knows who she is and what she's capable of.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Hawke, obviously, but I'm particularly soft for a purple mage femHawke, especially if she's also a blood mage. Witch wife hours. I love love love Merribela too - Isabela can see how smart and capable Merrill is and loves her for it, and Merrill can see that Isabela is kind and loving and unbearably soft even though she acts like she isn't. I'm also very fond of Merrill with Anders and Fenris if it's done right.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Varric! He cares about her so much. I do also like a platonic relationship with her and Fenris (again, if done right).

My unpopular opinion about this character

Again - she's not stupid. She's not naive. She's not childish. People just aren't listening to her.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish there was a way to save Clan Sabrae without Hawke saying "this is my fault for not keeping a better eye on Merrill" because?? No???? I shouldn't have to apologise for respecting her agency just so I don't have to fight a bunch of innocent clan members, wtf. Marethari was a dickhead. Let me say that. Explicitly.

And also let me romance her and Isabela together. C'mon, they obviously care so deeply about each other, are attracted to each other, are attracted to Hawke ... what's the issue here? I'm not seeing the issue here. (It's that Bioware are cowards.)

(send me a character breakdown!)

[godxforsaken]

Ooc: My personal review of 2020 

So the year ends and a new year starts and now I was thinking about a review of the things that happened during 2020. To be honest I never thought I would make it... never thought I would be still able to be here.

To be honest during this year I was in a dark and deep place and that I could come out of it wasn’t as easy... I... only lived for my work... I worked 9 hours per day and from home to work and work to my home I was like 3 hours gone... in total I was like 12 hours not at my home and as all that COVID started it became worse for me too... I went to work, went home, slept and went back to work and that’s like every day, on weekends I stayed home... also my dog became seriously sick and had an emergency operation in the middle of the year which almost had cost her life, suffering from the meds and barely could eat and drink.. I have almost lost her and if I hadn’t fought for her, she wouldn’t be with me...

Since there was nothing I could do to compare my mental health became worse again... it went for month, actually became heavy, my downs were more stronger than ever before... often ending up after work to cry on my way home or crying to sleep... insomnia that followed... my body started to hurt, my head hurt as well, day by day, I got itchy and also hurting spots which seemed to be an allergic reaction out of sudden, my motivation for everything lowered drastically... I had thoughts which... right now I don’t want to describe... after I had a breakdown I was for six weeks sick (what was the worst decision ever) I went back to work, being full in chaos mode, also all of that affected my playing with Mikaru... anyway... I am here... I started all over and yeah... I am thankful to you all... especially those:

@hxghlysuspect Seriously... I never thought that you would come back to me... after two years we were separated because of a fight... you don’t know how happy it made me after I saw you followed me... you don’t even know how suspicious I was because of your account as you started to follow, I observed you seriously until you wrote things about that one special character which has a place in Mikarus heart. Hiroki... only then I was like “Do I write him first? Or should I wait?”, until I decided to write you a “Hello stranger~”, haha. You know how my heart was racing? I was excited about how you react and it was good that we both talked to each other about what have happened and it still makes me happy to write with you, may it be ooc or ic... I love you, Honey. 😘

@hibiki-the-beast Well well well, what should I say about my sweet sweet kitten? Damn I cannot say anything just that I am happy that you also followed my new blog and that we both still write with each other as well that we write with your other characters, thank you so much. Ich hab dich gern, Schnuckel. 😘

@hiro-bloodlust What should I say? Well... let me say it like that and in German: Du bist ein Idiot. Ein großer Idiot, eine der größten Idioten, der mir je im Leben untergekommen ist... wie kann es nur sein, dass du so doof bist? Und trotzdem... ich hab dich gern, du bist mein Schatzi und das solltest du nicht vergessen, außerdem könntest du auch gerne von dir aus mich anschreiben, Erbsenprinzessin. 😂 Zudem: Glaub an dich und lerne dich selbst lieben, ohne das du immer daran denkst, wie andere dich sehen. Du bist ein wundervoller Mensch. Hach, fertig mit dem rant: Ich liebe dich trotzdem, Doofnuss. 😘

Also I am thankful to: @taka-oneokrock, @loveflush-rp, @misuirana, @dexcore-k, @ka-rules and a lot of others which I write, you all makes it worth to be here and stay in contact, really I love you all. Also when I often write back after some time and or drop our threads, sorry for that.

[lesetoilesfous]

For the prompts, Anders/Fenris C1 being dared to have sex by someone else.

Hey, thank you so much for the prompt!!

(If you want me to write you a dragon age ficlet tonight, send me a prompt from here!)

@dadrunkwriting

Pairing: Fenders

Characters: Fenris, Anders

Tags: modern AU, college AU, no magic, random frat boys, what happens when the boys aren’t chaperoned for thirty seconds, I’m sorry I’m British what even are american universities, smoking

Rating: Mature

“I think you two should fuck. I dare you.” Jackson has had too much to drink. Everyone has had too much to drink, but Kirkwall U’s champion hockey player has really, really had too much. His fair skin is red and blotched with alcohol, he’s sweating a little, and his pupils are dilated. Anders and Fenris level him with matching unimpressed glares. The rest of the team lolls against the couches, plastic cups gripped loosely in sweating palms.

Anders gets to his feet. Music is thumping through the walls of the house loudly enough to shiver through the carpet, and he’s been too hot for a while anyway. He’d kill for a breath of fresh air, and a cigarette to boot. The hockey captain getting weird was as good an excuse as any. “Not that I haven’t always wanted a sneak peek into the kinky corners of your mind, Jackson, but I haven’t. Ciao.” 

He leaves the loose ring of hockey players without a backwards glance, and finds himself wondering briefly why the hell he’d stayed at all without Kristoff. Anders weaves through the crowd without thinking much of anything, feeling the alcohol in his body slosh warmly through his blood and leaving his head dizzy with its sudden absence. He breathes, and tastes body odour and tequila. By the time he gets to the wide balcony doors he’s nearly gasping for fresh air - and the chlorinated stink of the swimming pool soaked in muffled music is like a brief taste of heaven. 

Anders slips his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled pack of tobacco and rolling himself a cigarette before fumbling for his lighter. His fingers hit the bottom of his jeans’ cotton pocket and he curses, tucking the cigarette behind his ear, and briefly weighing the value of going back inside or bumming a light off a stranger. His fingers tap against his leg as he thinks about it, full now of nervous energy. 

He hates being alone at these things, and Isabela had dragged off Marian to ‘celebrate her victory’ about two hours ago. Kristoff was...somewhere, and Anders would be more worried about him if he wasn’t sure the man was damn near indestructable. He was probably off being dragged into something stupid by Nate. 

The wind rushes over the trees in a great whispering hush, and the soft splash of people in the pool plays cymbal crashes under the low murmur of conversation. Anders really, really wants a cigarette.

“Need a light?”

Fenris’ voice is as low, rough, and unreasonably attractive as it ever is. Anders barely resists the childish urge to groan out loud, and turns to see Fenris standing quietly, a lighter held up in the air between them like a white flag. Reluctantly, Anders drags the bitter protesting teenager inside himself back under control, and forces himself to give Fenris a polite smile, snatching the lighter out of his hand before he can think better of it. 

“Thanks.”

Fenris nods, and hums softly, his own cigarette held loosely between his fingers. He takes a drag whilst Anders burns his thumb on the lighter and finally, finally gets the little flickering flame between his fingers to catch his cigarette with a scratching snap. Anders breathes in, lets warm smoke fill his lungs, and feels himself relax. He shuts his eyes, and huffs out a cloud of tobacco with a contented sigh. Fenris chuckles, softly. 

“I owe you.” He gestures with one long elegant hand at the open doors. “I’d been searching for an excuse to depart that miserable little gathering for forty five minutes.”

Anders raises an eyebrow at him. He certainly hadn’t consciously been thinking of an out for Fenris when he’d left. “You’re welcome?” He lifts his voice in question, and tries not to think about the tattoos on Fenris’ throat. The corner of Fenris’ mouth pulls into a small smile that Anders desperately wants to read as fond.

“I said I’d come check on you.” Fenris explains. Around them, fairy lights drip down the side of the house, woven haphazardly into the trellis nailed to the bricks. Anders thinks of Jackson’s ‘dare’. His mouth twists.

“They probably think we’re out here engaging in a liberal dose of PDA.”

Fenris shrugs. He’s wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans, with a thin silver bracelet Hawke had bought for him years ago. He’s the most handsome man Anders has ever seen. It’s maddening. “I confess that what they think we might be doing matters little to me.”

Anders huffs and takes another drag, savouring the thick bitter taste of tobacco on his tongue. “You say that, you’re not the one who’ll be touted as your latest conquest.” He wrinkles his nose. “Honestly, you sleep with one hockey player and suddenly everyone says you have a thing for them.”

Again, there’s that glimmer of a faint, fond smile at the corner of Fenris’ lips. Anders blinks, and it’s gone. The pool is so bright under the stars it almost glows, rocking like a little ocean between the tiles. “I don’t labour under the impression that you’d sleep with me because I’m a hockey player.”

“That implies you think you know why I would.” The words trip from his tongue before Anders has the chance to think better of them. This was why he shouldn’t attend these events unaccompanied. If Kristoff was here, he’d take this moment to pilot them both back inside to the kitchen, and they’d find some nachos, and he’d listen whilst Anders had a small breakdown about what he just said and what Kristoff thought Fenris thought of it, and Kristoff wouldn’t know but it’d help to talk about it anyway.

Instead, Anders finds himself frozen as Fenris meets and holds his gaze, sucking on his cigarette before he lets go in a thick cloud of smoke. Suddenly, the music and the party seem very far away. Fenris says, a little roughly, “I think you like me because you think I’m kind.”

Distantly, Anders knows he’s blushing. With an effort, he wets his lips, and forces himself to speak, trying for humour and ending up somewhere around embarassingly intrigued. “I’m not in the habit of fucking every good samaritan I meet.”

Fenris hums, but there’s a flash of laughter and something like daring in his eyes as he taps his cigarette. Anders watches the ash fall, still burning orange, onto the tiles. He smokes his cigarette. 

“You think I’m intelligent.” Fenris says, softly. 

Anders really, really wants a drink. He looks quickly around the pool, where other students stand in bright colours and neon like a flock of tropical birds. He turns back to Fenris, standing in the shade of one of the garden walls, looking calm and confident and more collected than Anders has ever been. Anders forces a chuckle and tucks his hand into his jean pocket before his fingers start tapping again. “Yeah, Fenris, I have a brain. And I also know what your grades are.”

Fenris finishes his cigarette, and stubs it into an ashtray on a nearby table before stepping closer. Anders imagines he can feel his body heat and knows they aren’t standing close enough together for that to possibly be true. It’s hard to tell out here, where the electric lights of the house blaze into the darkness and fade quickly, but Anders thinks Fenris is blushing. 

Fenris says, quietly, “You think I am attractive.”

Anders looks away, and swallows, and tries to ignore the furious pounding of his heart and the flush burning up the back of his neck. “Again, I have eyes.” He stabs his cigarette butt  into the ashtray with more ferocity than is strictly necessary, and freezes when Fenris very, very gently tucks his hair behind his ear. 

Fenris is shorter than Anders, but it’s always been hard for Anders to think of him as small - and not only because he’s pretty sure the other man could benchpress him. There’s something about Fenris, and the careful way with which he speaks and acts, which demands the same kind of dedicated attention in return. Fenris’ other hand moves to tangle gently with Anders’ fingers. Anders stops breathing. 

Fenris looks at him, “I think you know that in the end, despite our best efforts, you and I are very much alike.”

Anders lets out the breath he’d been holding and it feels like he’s coming up for air. The wind rushes through the trees, and above them, where they’re not hidden by the blaze of artificial light, the stars glimmer in a blue summer sky. “Careful. I might get the wrong idea.”

Fenris’ hand tightens, just a little, around Anders’. There’s something earnest and unguarded in his green eyes that Anders thinks he’s never seen before. When Fenris speaks, his voice is a little uneven, and as he moves the lights of the house brush over his dark skin, and Anders catches the depth of his blush as it spreads over his cheeks. “I am hoping that you will get the right one.”

Anders grins a little, nervous and shaky, and squeezes Fenris’ hand back. “Well, you know me. I’m always a bit slow on the uptake.”

Then he catches the side of Fenris’ face in his free hand, and bends down, and kisses him. He tastes like tequila and cigarettes. Around them twists the warm embrace of a gentle summer breeze.

[barbex]

I was tagged for a First Line thing by ?? @cullenlovesmen ? and more? I forgot but thank you that you all still think of me even though I so often don’t respond to your tag games @gremlinquisitor @lauraemoriarty @bexterrr @hollyand-writes @aban-asaara @natsora @theherocomplex @dafan7711 @pikapeppa @charlatron @imbiowaresbitch @adalhied-prime

Chapter 19 of Lyrium Skin:

"Could you give me hand, Fenris?" Merrill crouches at the edge of the cliff they've been scouring for the last three hours, leaning over the edge in what looks like an attempt to kill herself by crashing onto the wave breaking rocks far below. 

Using this for my status report for the-WIP-project, let me give you a bit of a Making-of for this bit. I really like this start because of the scene setting in one sentence.

But I have some writerly ramblings...

I struggled (what else is new) to start this chapter. The last chapter was so very painful and emotional, I had no idea how to continue from there. But as always, the characters are a reflection of their writer and after weeks of chewing this over, I decided to lean into the avoidance. This bit here comes a little further down the page:

Ever since his breakdown in Anders' and Hawke's arms, after Anders had done the magical maintenance on his lyrium brands, the three of them have slept in Hawke's bed every night and he has woken up with Anders' arm wrapped around him and his nose buried in Hawke's neck on most mornings. It's a peaceful truce between them that he has not believed to be possible. 

They haven't spoken about it, what it means and if it will lead to more but it has become a fragile little ritual. Every night, the three of them eat dinner together and then retreat to the library to read. Anders is always too restless and goes back into the basement to check his patients and at some point at night, Hawke and Fenris drag him back upstairs, make him clean himself, sometimes even bathe him together if he's too exhausted to do it himself. Fenris got him an orlesian toothbrush and it's one of the funniest things for Fenris to watch Marian and Anders struggle to brush their teeth with the unfamiliar tools. And then the three of them climb into bed together and quickly fall asleep as if they have done this forever.

He has no reference if this is a normal development for their fragile mutual acceptance and friendship but several crude remarks from Isabela has him suspect that it probably isn't. But he has never felt this safe in his life before.

Yes, that’s a whole lot of internal thoughts introspection to explain why I’m not writing “the morning after”. It feels a bit like cheating, to be honest. But I allow myself this cheating because Fenris truly knows jack shit about normal human relationships, Anders is a mess of PTSD and Hawke... Miss Do-not-talk-about-feelings isn’t exactly an expert on relationships either. 

Now there is a question hidden in here somewhere why these three relationship failures speak so much to me but I’m not quite willing to explore that. Let’s just say, the morale of this story is: 

When in doubt, lean into the characters.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

my weekend

scheduled to fly home on saturday afternoon: 2 flights, approximately 8 hours including layover

carefully packed and chose good travel clothes that i could toss in the laundry as soon as i got home

learned my first flight was cancelled and rescheduled for sunday morning

spent saturday night at the airport so i could catch that early flight and stay packed and ready

local airport too small to have a lounge or overnight security so i spent the night in the public lobby not sleeping

they courtesy checked my carry on for flight #1, sending it to my final destination

flight to atlanta sunday morning delayed, meaning it would not get me to my second flight in time

delta switched me to the last available seat on an earlier flight--also delayed, but leaving in time to connect me even after the delay

after boarding the earlier flight, a valve malfunction required a mechanic to come repair the plane. we were kept on the plane until it was fixed

it took almost 3 hours

obviously after all that i missed my connecting flight

no more direct flights on sunday to sacramento, so they booked me to seattle and then sacramento, both that night

seattle flight was delayed, missed my sacramento flight 

now in seattle for no reason on sunday night with nowhere to stay

while i was still on my delayed flight, family worked as a group to get me a cheap hotel room where i could stay until morning

got five hours sleep without pajamas, a toothbrush or comb because all of my travel necessities were now in sacramento without me

still left more refreshed this morning than i was in days, yay sleep

walked through four airports in shoes that i packed because they slip off, leaving one of my feet featuring angry red patches

lived on french fries and snack foods that cost more than nice restaurant food would at home

experienced scary intrusive thoughts and ~6 emotional breakdowns

got picked up this morning by my ander and have been resting since

getting home: 3 days, 4 airports, 7 boarding passes, $57 in food costs, 1 rented room and many many kleenex 

[friendlylocalwhumper]

lux in prison, part two

this is the second part of the lux in prison drabble pair. content warning: referenced/implied noncon (nothing graphic, all vaguely implied)

The cell door’s pulled open, and Rollins doesn’t look up from his book as he listens to Lux’s cuffs being removed, and the door closing again.

He doesn’t look up until the C.O. has walked away. He frowns and closes his book, leaning forward, when he sees the state of his cellmate. Bags under his eyes (worse than when he was first brought here), looking unsteady on his feet.

“Kid.”

Lux looks from Rollins, to the top bunk, and back to the other prisoner. Some mix of shame and fear and frustration is clear in him.

“You want my bunk?”

Rollins only gets a nod in response, so he stands, and Lux passes him, slowly - with a whimper, reaching out for the top bunk, his legs give out just before he makes it to the thin mattress on the bottom. The older man catches him, heaving him up with arms around his torso and setting him on the bunk, ignoring his sound of pain. He then turns to face the cell door, standing between it and Lux to shield him from any other inmates’ prying eyes.

“Keep it together, kid,” He mutters, arms crossed where he leans against the bunks. “Can’t let anyone see you like this in here.”

“‘m n-not trying to -”

“Toughen up a little, huh? Or you’ll end up somebody else’s punk too. Just take it easy, act normal tomorrow. Don’t piss off the wrong guys and get shoved into a C.O. again.”

Lux is breathing unevenly, behind Rollins.

“You gonna cry? Keep it quiet if you…” The older prisoner listens to Lux’s breaths getting quicker and shorter. Fuck. He looks back to see Lux hunched over, fingers twisted in his shirt.

“Hey. Kid. Come on.” Rollins sits down next to him, even though it’d be a questionable gesture to outside eyes. He turns to sit sideways and face Lux, focused more on blocking the view with his back and shoulders than he is on looking totally apathetic towards his cellmate.

Lux can’t seem to catch his breath, and it’s only getting worse. Some kind of fit, a nervous breakdown - not a good idea. “Kid -”

“D-don’t - don’t - ca-all me that, pl-, please,” Lux gasps out, one leg folded beneath him.

“Fine. Fortier, right?”

“L-Lux.”

“Last names. Get with the program. Alright, Fortier - whatever you’re doing right now, you cut it the hell out. Get breathing right, or just pass out, but you don’t lose your calm like this, no matter what happens to you. Are you hearin’ me?” Rollins puts a hand on Lux’s shoulder, holding him more to get his point across than to comfort.

“Don’t t-touch, touch me.”

“You don’t get what you want,” The other prisoner answers - harshly, by Lux’s standards, but with dangerous patience, by his cellmate’s. “What, does this happen to you outside of this place too? You freak out and people baby you? That’s fine out there, but in here it’ll get you hurt. It could get you killed.”

Lux glances up, tears in his eyes, still hyperventilating. Rollins’ gray eyes watch him with that hand still on his shoulder. The message is clear. I’m sorry, kid, but you don’t get to be weak.

“I - I - I can c-calm, calm down, if, mmh-” Lux takes a few rapid, ragged breaths, speaking quietly. “If you d-don’t call me kid, kid again, and if you - get your hand off me - right now.”

Rollins obliges, and stands back up in his previous position leaning against the bunks. He watches the space outside the cell, and listens to Lux’s breathing get muffled by his thin pillow, gradually evening out. Rollins doesn’t move from his watch to get up on his bunk until Lux is asleep.

Rollins is pissed for his cellmate, when he starts paying attention to the C.O. that brought him back to their cell after a night in the SHU. Lux tries to mind his own business - doesn’t stare at anyone or anything, doesn’t hide away, doesn’t bother anybody - but that C.O. keeps an eye on him.

The kid’s got more and more things about him that show how he’s faring. He’s pale and thin, and part of that’s just the way he was when he got here, but it’s definitely not getting any better. He has a black eye, which he’ll explain as bumping into a wall or some shit if asked about it, no doubt. He’s gotten more wary and quiet and tough, in little ways - not backing down when stared at, waiting and listening to what’s happening instead of backing away or trying to explain himself. Those shoulders stay set, fingers almost twitching with the urge to come up and hold something off but his arms stay at his sides, his expression stays neutral for longer and longer.

Sometimes, when Lux returns to their cell, he’s got a limp. Sometimes he breathes shallowly and minds his ribs, sometimes he leans against the wall and stays standing instead of sitting down on his bunk. Sometimes he grimaces when Rollins talks like he’s got a headache, or like he hates the idea of listening to one more person. He doesn’t protest being called kid anymore.

The next time that guard is leading a tense Lux away from everyone else, acting casual, Rollins has to force himself to look back at his hand of cards in a game of poker for a cig. Fortier’s got to take his licks and come out the other side in one piece, if he can. That’s just how it works here. He’ll get the hang of it eventually. He’ll toughen up.

If there’s one thing that helps Lux stay focused in here, it’s the schedule. Wake up at 6:30am, morning routine, leisure time, breakfast, leisure time, roll call, and on and on. No matter what happens - if he’s glared at, threatened, mocked, shoved, led away from the others by a guard, he at least knows it can’t last too long. An hour and a half at the most.

He’s gotten used to being a favorite of a couple C.O.s, and while he’s being hurt, he can make himself think about what he’ll do during the next slotted leisure time. Read a book, maybe. Depends on how bad the pain is, whether he’s feeling up for sitting up on his bunk.

This time, the rough-voiced C.O. is the one taking Lux to the break room, locking the door. No one else is on break. They know when to steer clear, the guards have a system - plausible deniability, more guards on patrol and less taking breaks - it’s simple and efficient, and chilling that they all know and don’t care.

Higgins, is this C.O.’s name - Higgins has got Lux shoved into the wall, but not pressed close like others have been, before this place. There are fingers twisted in his hair to keep his face pressed to the wall, and there’s a hand on the link to his cuffed wrists, but it’s almost distant. Just a resource to be used.

The door clicks open, and Higgins forgets to care, because he’s got no reason to be on edge. He simply forgets that he locked the door. It’s just another guard, anyway.

“Higgins.”

Lux’s face twists in pain when the grip on his curls tightens, but he doesn’t make a sound.

“What time is it, inmate?” The C.O. ignores his coworker.

“It’s leisure time,” Lux answers. He knows the schedule.

“It’s leisure time. You supposed to be out of your cell at leisure time, if you’re not engaged in work during this period, inmate?”

Lux shakes his head against the wall with a grimace. “No, sir.”

The other C.O.’s waiting. Higgins isn’t in a hurry. He pulls on Lux’s hair so his head is tipped back, neck bared.

“Higgins,” The other C.O. says, not quite insistently. There’s a hint of boredom to his tone. “Captain needs you in the warden’s office.”

“The warden’s…”  The guard lets go of Lux’s hair and cuffs in favor of keeping him pinned to the wall by one shoulder. The prisoner takes a few short breaths, trying very hard not to earn more attention. The hand leaves his shoulder, and Lux stays up against the wall until Higgins has walked away. “You got this inmate covered, take him back to his cell?” There’s a grunt of agreement, and then Higgins leaves the room.

When Lux turns and sees the other C.O., he doesn’t recognize the slicked back black hair, the goatee, the dark, disinterested eyes. Instead of ordering Lux to come over, the guard crosses the room. Lux’s eyes flick to the leg that’s making him limp, the left one. It makes him look away to the floor and breathe out slowly. Reminds him of Anders.

Anders doesn’t know Lux is here. No one does. He hears no talk of visitors or phone calls or rights, here.

The C.O. says nothing, just takes Lux by the upper arm and leads him back to the door to get brought back to his cell. The guard smells of oil and metal, like he’s got a side job as a mechanic, or like he’s been polishing and dismantling firearms. If Lux isn’t hurt or shoved around, he expects at least to be mocked, to be called things. But the tanned man guiding him with a firm grip says nothing. Probably bored.

Lux isn’t curled in on himself or jumpy, particularly, for the walk. Outside of this place, he’s paranoid, jumpy; in this place, he’s got just enough awareness, enough energy for his eyes to flick to nearby inmates, to flick away before staring too long - he looks at cell doors in passing, paying attention to whether they’re opened or closed, and where the nearest guards are, what they’re saying if he can hear them. He’s led back to his cell, the door clanging open, his cuffs clinking as they’re unlocked. The C.O. leaves without Lux turning around; he goes to his bunk and sits, rubbing at his wrists.

Leisure time is almost over. Lux lies back with a quiet huff of air, shifting to try to find a less uncomfortable spot on the thin plasticky mattress. He stares up at the underside of the top bunk to think. He thinks about very little, here - not much to worry about once he’s in his cell. Every day is exactly the same. He’ll be in danger, and he’ll hurt. He’ll be hungry after avoiding food from stress, and he’ll be tired from staying awake to avoid nightmares. It won’t change. This is his life, now. Lux doesn’t have a feeling about that, he just goes about his day on the schedule, takes what comes his way, and waits for the next day.

[aced0g]

Be Your Worst Self

I was tagged by @loveydoveypiperwright​ , so thank you! I’m sorry I haven’t done a tagging game in a while but I’m getting there :DD

Rules: Take this quiz for your character(s) and post the results!

I’m gonna tag @fallout-and-dragon-age​ & @ace-amatus​ but thats only if y'all want too. Have fun if you do!

So for my ocs its going to just be easier to go by the personality type rather than list each oc out individually cause there would be a lot of overlap, that being said, here we go~

You Are an Emotionally Volatile Nightmare:

Your heart guides you and sometimes that’s not as dreamy or romantic as it might sound. It’s true that your feelings often inspire you to heal and create, and as long as those feelings don’t steer you wrong, you’re capable of truly visionary accomplishments in the name of empathy and love. Feelings, though, aren’t always gentle and sweet. You know that better than anyone because your own emotions -the same overwhelming forces that inspire you to make the world a better place - can take you to very dark places, especially if you believe that the subject of your ire has shown unwarranted cruelty toward you or something you hold dear. You know that your feelings aren’t necessarily rational, but that doesn’t stop you from dramatically blaming other people for causing you pain. Of course, you might not even stop at crying; that notoriously brilliant creativity might even spur you to express your wrath artistically - nothing says “emotional stability” like a morose, vengeful poem.

-Evander Virani: Does it match up? Yeah I’d say so. He’s experienced a lot of trauma and while most of the time he pushes his emotions down or tries to act like a positive “everything’s going to be okay!” person he’s about one bad thing away from having a breakdown. When he’s truly happy its one of the few times he can just forget about his problems and enjoy the moment. Most of the time he’s in this in between stage of pure terror and extreme sadness. It makes him appear like he has a level head. When he’s angry though it tends to lash out as a literal burning rage. He loses control of his magic and sort of engulfs his arms in flame and takes his ire out on whoever pissed him off (he hates being angry because it scares him. He doesn’t like losing control). His creative outlet is forging knives and swords. He does want to heal though, he’s tired of being the cause of destruction. He wants to help and heal, not only others but also himself.

-Aspen Lavellan: Does it match up? Kinda? I wouldn’t call him volatile. Aspen’s got a pretty level head on his shoulders. He has learned how to act diplomatic. When he is presenting himself as Inquisitor to the public imagine a Raymond Holt type of personality. When he’s with friends though he likes to pull pranks and just have a good time. He doesn’t want to be serious all the time because it makes the situation feel bleak. He wants there to be positivity in his life. Though, I would say that when he is truly angry it’s a type of silent wrath that’s terrifying. You can see the burning hatred in his eyes and he has the skill to hit his target with three arrows before they even know whats going on. When he’s truly angry he will keep fighting until he’s completed his goal or he dies trying. He does carve dalish patterns into his bow so that could be considered creative? Aspen is a protector. He wants to help others, keep them safe and that could translate into healing. He does what needs to be done to keep people safe, and sometimes that means making the hard decisions that others can’t.

-Arthur Cousland: Does it match up? Yeah. Arthur’s usually able to stay in a good mood. He’s an optimist and doesn’t like to bring people down. He’s gentle and wants to help heal and create. It’s why he enjoys playing his lute and singing. Songs can inspire people, or at the very least cheer them up. He may be a noble but what he does with that sort of money and power is give it away to others. He gives his coin to those on the street who need food, or he’s been known to give his blanket away as well saying he’ll just buy another when they reach the next town. He’s got a big heart and he wears it on his sleeve. The only way he can hide when he’s sad is if it’s raining so that the rain can hide his tears, or if he goes off on his own for a little while (he hates burdening others with his problems and often leaves for an hour or two to just climb a tree and have a good cry, though Alistair catches on and works with Arthur to realize its okay to let others help him when he is sad). When he’s angry it’s hard to think logically. He listens to his heart and when he feels betrayed or that someone is going to bring harm to his friends or the people he’s protecting he will fight tooth and nail to protect them and kill whoever is provoking them.

You are a Narcissistic Monster: 

You’re the best - right? Wherever you go, the spotlight finds you, and you’re hardly complaining. you can’t imagine your friends care, since, after all, you’re so generous. Well, that’s what you like to think about yourself. You’re generous, enthusiastic, and fun, so if you compulsively steal the spotlight, it doesn’t really matter. If you fuel drama just to feed your thirst for a dramatic life, is it really that bad? Is it really so wrong for you to be the center of attention? Does it really matter how other people feel about it in the long run? Of course, you’d never say no. You’re the generous friend, and you’d never hurt anyone on purpose just to keep all eyes on you... right? Every now and then, you imagine your funeral and how all of your friends will go on and on about how wonderful, magnetic, charming, and generous you were. 

-Sorian Surana: Does it match up? No, not really. He’s cocky, headstrong, and a bit of an asshole sometimes but I wouldn’t call him narcissistic. He’s proud of himself, and yeah he’s proud of himself and takes pride in his looks but not because that’s all he cares about. Sorian is a trans-man elf mage who was mistreated in the circle and then joined up with the wardens and transitioned. He went from thinking he would have no future to being one of the legendary Grey Wardens, and then he actually looks the way he’s always wanted to! So of course he’s going to seem a little vain or narcissistic sometimes, but it’s only because he never thought he’d make it this far. And, if he’s being honest, he fucking hates the spotlight. He’d much rather be just one of the Wardens instead of The Hero of Ferelden, Arl of Amaranthine, and all those other titles. He’ll be in the spotlight, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. Besides, he should be allowed a little bit of cockiness (mages in The Awakening DLC are so OP by the end of it, literally Sorian knows so many spells and can conjure the dead turn into a bear, wield a great ax while shooting fire storms at people, and at the same time have a constant aura of changing elemental magic that deals damage to his enemies.)

You are Shockingly Violent:

There’s no getting around this: you desperately need to attend anger management. You’re just as headstrong and opinionated, and your energy and enthusiasm can turn into explosive violence at the drop of a hat. You’re a walking time bomb of seething rage, and the more you try to hide it, the more it escapes in unpredictable, volatile mood swings. Do yourself a favor and invest in a stress ball or gym membership before you do something you really regret

-Kyra Lavellan: Does it fit? Yeah. She chose the Reaver specialization for a reason. Kyra is a very energetic and enthusiastic person. She does what she feels is right and gets upset when people don’t see that she’s doing the right thing even if it might not morally line up with their beliefs. As a kid she’d often get into fights with the other kids of her clan and was always sporting some sort of bandage because of it. She has a better control on her outbursts as an adult, but she still lashes out especially when she’s in pain or very annoyed. Her anger is great in battle though. She fights with the ferocity of a dragon and won’t admit it out loud but she does enjoy having the power to physically shred her enemies with her hands. Before she knew how to control the reaver power she would keep attacking, sacrificing her own health to get the job done and make sure the others were safe. Once she learned how to keep conscious and keep fighting things went a lot smoother. 

-Alrik Hawke: Does it fit? Kinda? Hawke’s in denial really. He wants to protect people and make them happy, it’s why he chose to be a spirit healer, why he’s always cracking jokes and trying to get others to smile. He does have a lot of anger though. It’s just under the surface, though its quite hard to really bring out. See Alrik is a werewolf and his anger is tied very closely to the wolf, so for him getting angry isn’t just an outburst of words it means he could lose control and shift. He doesn’t want that. He keeps a tight lid on his anger and it only really comes out in moments of extreme stress, like the deep roads or when slaver’s are trying to recapture his best friend, or when people keep calling Merril a monster, or when Templars get too close to Anders. Okay so maybe he does have a lot of anger. Like I said he’s in denial. 

You are a Two-Faced Liar:

Your friends know you talk behind their backs. Not that you’re a bad person - you just can’t help letting other people know how you really feel about some of the crazy stuff your loved ones have told you. Unfortunately, you’ve talked and talked and talked, and now, they all know you’ll talk if they confide in you. You know it, too, and you still can’t help it. No matter how hard you try, you simply can’t force yourself to be as loyal or honest as you want to be. At least you’re charming enough to keep making new friends and replacing the ones who felt too hurt or betrayed to trust you again.

-Zachariah Hawke: Does it fit? Yes and no. Zach has a big heart, but as a rogue he knows sometimes it’s better to lie and be dishonest. I think this would have been more of a problem back in Lothering, unable to keep friends because he keeps telling his parents about them and over sharing, not out of malice but because he gets so excited that he just needed to tell them. I think over time he would become the one with no friends and as an adult he knows how to keep his mouth shut. The only person he really overshares with now is Varric, and later Fenris when they’re in their relationship together. Zach isn’t trying to hurt anyone by talking about them he just... can’t keep all of their problems locked up with his because it’s too much. Zach’s the type of guy that smiles to hide what he’s going through and he wants to help his friends so much, but to keep it all inside would cause him to fall apart. 

[theculturedmarxist]

Monday’s episode of the Australian Broadcasting Corporation’s “Four Corners” program, “The Christchurch Massacre and the Rise of Right-wing Extremism,” raised serious unanswered questions about how fascist and white supremacist Brenton Tarrant was able to carry out his terrorist attack on two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand.

On March 15, Tarrant, an Australian citizen, killed 50 people and injured 50 more using a semi-automatic rifle. He had spent at least two years planning the massacre in the small city of Dunedin, south of Christchurch, where he trained at a nearby rifle club, wrote his 74-page manifesto and communicated with fascists internationally, including on extreme right message boards on the 8chan website.

The attack has provoked widespread shock and anger in New Zealand, Australia and internationally. At vigils and rallies, many people have demanded to know how it could have happened. The state, however, has sought to severely restrict discussion of the most crucial questions, including the political roots of the massacre. In New Zealand, the censor’s office banned possession and distribution of Tarrant’s fascist manifesto, which outlines the gunman’s political motives and influences—including US President Donald Trump—and connections with extreme right-wing circles internationally.

Canberra and Wellington have refused to explain why the state did not prevent Tarrant’s attack despite his many public statements voicing hatred of immigrants, Muslims and socialists, including threats of violence. The New Zealand police and government insist that Tarrant flew “under the radar” and acted alone, despite his claims that he interacted with many extreme nationalist groups and had received a “blessing” for his attack from Norwegian far-right terrorist Anders Behring Breivik.

“Four Corners” reporter Sean Rubinsztein-Dunlop posed the question: “How did [Tarrant] manage to fly completely under the radar while planning a mass murder?” His report suggested that police and intelligence agencies had “underestimated” the threat of white supremacist attacks because they were focused on Islamic extremism; and that they are “drastically underfunded.”

Neither of these explanations stands up to scrutiny. As the “Four Corners” program itself noted, there have been numerous warnings about far-right extremism in Australia and New Zealand, and Christchurch has for decades been known as a centre of neo-Nazi activity.

There have been numerous acts of harassment, intimidation and threats against the city’s Muslim community, including the Al-Noor mosque targeted by Tarrant. In 2016 neo-Nazi Philip Arps was fined $800 for delivering a box of pigs’ heads to the mosque. Police have not explained why they did nothing to protect the mosque following this very clear threat.

Another 18-year-old man, who has not been publicly identified, has been charged with posting threats against the mosque on Facebook days before the massacre. Again, there has been no explanation of why police took no action until after the shooting.

For years, Tarrant posted comments on Facebook praising the fascist and anti-Islamic United Patriots Front in Australia and threatening to kill “Marxists and globalists.” Two days before his attack, “Four Corners” noted, the terrorist “flooded Facebook with posts on extreme right-wing themes… [and] posted photos on Twitter of guns and magazines covered with symbols of his fascist ideology.” None of this triggered any intervention by police.

The timeline of the day of the massacre raises an even more disturbing question: Why was Tarrant not stopped even after he publicly revealed his exact plans?

At midday, he posted links to his manifesto, which clearly identifies his targets, on Facebook. At 1:28 p.m. he shared the document on 8chan along with a message saying he would carry out an “attack against the invaders,” and links to a livestream video. Three minutes later he emailed his manifesto to 70 email addresses, including the prime minister’s office and media organisations. He began live-streaming while driving carefully to the first of two mosques. Tarrant was clearly not worried about being intercepted: his gun is visible in the car and his GPS navigation system can be clearly heard directing him to the first of two mosques. The attack began at 1:40 p.m.

As Robert Evans, an analyst from the Bellingcat think tank, told “Four Corners”, anyone monitoring the neo-Nazi forum would have seen Tarrant’s message and video and “could have reached out to law enforcement in New Zealand and warned them about what was going to happen and cut down the response time before armed police units arrived to intercept them, significantly.”

Instead, the gunman was able to carry out his attack calmly, at one point leaving the mosque, walking casually outside, then returning to shoot any injured people. A total of 41 people died at Al Noor mosque. Tarrant’s video ended after 17 minutes, while he was driving to the smaller Linwood mosque where he continued his killing spree. Tarrant was arrested 36 minutes after the first emergency call was made to police as the attack began, while on his way to a third mosque in Ashburton.

Evans described 8chan as “a 24-hour Klan or neo-Nazi rally where every now and then someone will leave in order to commit a violent attack.” The obvious question, which has not been raised in the media, is: were any of the millions of police and spies in New Zealand, Australia, the US, Europe and elsewhere monitoring the well-known far-right forum? And, if so, why did they apparently do nothing to stop the attack?

Neil Fergus, an analyst from the think tank Intelligent Risks, told “Four Corners” that the gunman’s social media posts should have sounded alarms, but New Zealand’s spy agencies were “not particularly well-served in terms of resources.”

This claim is utterly false. Like previous terrorist attacks internationally, including the September 11, 2001 attack in the US, the Christchurch atrocity is already being used to demand even more anti-democratic powers for New Zealand’s Security Intelligence Service (SIS), Government Communications Security Bureau (GCSB) and the police. These agencies have received a vast increase in funding, personnel and technical capability over the past two decades. Legal restrictions on their ability to spy on the population are practically non-existent.

Security analyst Paul Buchanan told Radio NZ that in 2017, the year Tarrant moved to New Zealand, police conducted 7,000 warrantless searches, an extraordinary number for a country with fewer than five million people. The GCSB and SIS also have the power to conduct electronic surveillance of anyone in New Zealand under legislation pushed through in 2014, ostensibly aimed at combating terrorism.

The GCSB is part of the Five Eyes network, led by the US National Security Agency, which also includes the spy agencies of Australia, Britain and Canada. As whistleblower Edward Snowden revealed, the NSA and its partners spy on billions of communications all over the world and share information with each other.

There is no innocent explanation for the fact that these agencies, with multi-billion dollar budgets and vast powers and capabilities, failed to monitor Tarrant. The gunman travelled to several countries in Europe, as well as Pakistan, North Korea and, according to some reports, Afghanistan, countries that are under heavy surveillance.

Evans told “Four Corners” that if the gunman had registered as a firearms owner and was commenting on radical Islamic Facebook pages advocating holy war, “I think the governments of New Zealand and... Australia would absolutely have been looking into this person before the shooting.”

While Muslims, environmental groups, pacifist groups and others have been under heavy surveillance, the fascist networks in New Zealand and Australia have been allowed to operate without interference from the state.

The explanation for this is political: the anti-Marxism expressed by Tarrant and the fascist tendencies that inspired him are shared by the political establishment and the state. In his manifesto, Tarrant estimates that hundreds of thousands of members of the police and armed forces in Europe are members of far-right nationalist groups, a statement which raises questions about whether Tarrant had any contact with state agencies.

The main function of the spy agencies and the police over the past century has been to prevent the growth of a socialist movement in the working class. There are countless examples of police infiltration of socialist and leftist groups in the US, Australia and New Zealand, dating back to before the Russian Revolution.

The Christchurch attacks took place in a definite political context of economic breakdown, trade war and growing preparations for war by the US and its allies. Trump, in his violent rants against socialism, expresses openly the fears of the ruling class everywhere, which has been shaken by the upsurge in class struggle over the past year.

The political establishment has increasingly adopted the anti-immigrant and anti-Muslim demagogy of the extreme right in order to divide the working class. Parties such as Australia’s One Nation and New Zealand First, which is a major part of the Labour-led government, have expressed racist and xenophobic views similar to those in Tarrant’s manifesto.

The attack in Christchurch must be taken as a sharp warning of the forces that are being prepared to be used against the working class. Workers and young people internationally must make their own political preparations by building a socialist movement to put an end to the capitalist system and its division of the world into nation-states, which is the source of nationalism, racism and war.

[magnetar1]

Ancient destruction of a modern corpse.  I’ll continue to survey your progress. Night is extremely brief where the conductivity of the Ghost Light is concerned & I will keep it on for as long as I can.  You have my Ba to thank for sleepless nights as you feel my presence surrounding you with a built-in resonance.  Connected have we been on killing fields where the fratricidal tendencies of beggars reduced us to pale tears.  Having know each other since birth as the prophecies declare & never giving into each other’s light completely as it has been known happen.

Feel the strength of my Ba as it flaps its terrible wings.  Bloody claw sharper than those that came before reduced to a tired preamble.  It is only closely related to that channeling host that has earth for bones: devoured by churning lava – internal combustion – ranging through the slow & quick of creations’s bursting drama.  Breathing in sharp, flaming bursts as it is dragged further away & the years in your world come to a close.  My Ba reflected in the pool of eternity where there is no world to capture its shadow: hours becoming aeons in the stretching, molecular breakdown of customary flight patterns.  My Ba remains where the stain dissolves & the moon shines through its fatal abyss . . .

-Artwork By Anders Rokkum