#but both of their powers involve shadows so the comparisons are maybe easy to make

[lovevalley45]

a couple weeks ago freckles pointed out that the shade and henry hogfish both have pathetic dad energy and this episode really solidified that but in such different ways

[delimeful]

as the fabric starts to fray

donation drive commission for @hazelriver74 with the prompt: dukexiety and glitching powers! thank you so much for your patience, and i hope you enjoy! :)

warnings: violence, fights, mild body horror, involuntary drug use, remus being himself and saying gross stuff, profanity, borderline panic attack

-

Virgil always knew when Remus made his way into a fight by the dramatics alone. 

No matter where the brawl was going down, no matter how many people were involved, there was always enough space for him to make a scene. If there was any doubt that he was related to Princey, that alone would have eliminated it. Not that Princey would be happy to hear that.

So when the bank windows exploded into glass grit and a flash grenade trailing disgusting-smelling smoke landed between Virgil and the seriously-outclassed robbers, he wasn’t as concerned as he probably should have been. 

Sure, Remus-- “The Duke” was a self-identified villain, and sure, Virgil had shifted to the more legal side of the super scene these days, but it was a recent thing. He was a vigilante, not a narc, and that meant that he didn’t particularly care what Remus called himself so long as the guy wasn’t seriously hurting anyone. 

Plus, it was hilarious to see how thoroughly he could frustrate Princey just by existing.

“Having a party and you didn’t invite me?” Remus called, strutting through the smoke in shoes that appeared to have literal knife-heels, ones that scraped unpleasantly against the stone with each step.

Virgil kept himself focused on the robbers, because he hadn’t gotten close enough to get all the guns from them and there were still civilians behind him. Remus better have made the smoke non-toxic this time; not everyone could make a gas mask from shadows like him. “Pretty pathetic party if you ask me. These guys didn’t even bring any fun toys.” 

Remus clicked his tongue, ignoring the weapons pointed his way. “Well, maybe I’ll show them how a real robbery looks, hm? Better cover those innocent civvie eyes, Shade!” 

Virgil immediately snapped an opaque dome into existence over the hostages, just in time for Remus to make his move. 

“Here’s my favorite party trick,” he hollered, ignoring the gunshots as he charged forwards with melting skin and too-many limbs. “It’s the one where I make your kneecaps disappear!” 

Virgil rolled his eyes as Remus employed his usual level of ‘creativity’ to the fight. Good thing he was already well accustomed to cheesy supervillain lines in his lines of work, both past and current.

Still, he kept a sharp eye as he worked to pry the weapons from the ones on the outskirts of the skirmish. While it was sort of hard to look at Remus right now, and he generally didn’t kill, the villain could get a little… sloppy. He ended up having to shadowpatch a few of the would-be robbers’ more grievous wounds, just in case. 

The fight was over quickly, and Virgil smacked Remus on the shoulder, grimacing at the wrongness of his shifting flesh. “Don’t think I didn’t catch what you said about robbing the bank. This place is a community fund, and it’s not insured. Go rob somewhere that deserves it, won’t you?” 

Remus snarled with too many teeth, and Virgil hissed back, smacking him again like he was a finicky car engine. It did the trick, and the villain started looking distinctly less Lovecraftian. 

“You never let me have any fun,” he complained, waving his hand about as it slowly stopped resembling a medieval mace. “You’re almost as bad as the goody-two shoes trio.” 

… He probably shouldn’t be so offended at the comparison, since he was technically working with the heroes now, but. “Am not.” 

Remus threw his head back as he cackled at Virgil’s expense, but before the vigilante could retaliate, a flash of movement caught his eye. 

One of the still-conscious opponents was glaring from the ground, something strange and glowing in his hands, pointed directly at Remus. Virgil’s sense of danger went haywire, and he forced his body to shift forward, rather than away. He shoved Remus, hard, and moved just slow enough to catch the projectile in his own thigh. 

He swore loudly on principle, but whatever it was actually didn’t hurt beyond a stinging impact. He pulled it out: a canister dart with colorful feathers.

“What the hell was in it?” he muttered to himself, and then got an answer in the form of the shield dome dissolving into thick, purple smoke. 

This time, he swore loudly with feeling. 

“Shadowman, what’s going on?” Remus asked, but Virgil didn’t have time to play games anymore. He reached out and drew the smoke towards himself before it could settle on the civilians, shuddering as it settled into his arms and dyed them the mottled color of a bruise. 

He swallowed down the rising terror with the ease of long practice, but Remus was still too close for comfort. Really, when he was like this, everyone in the lobby was too close for comfort. He was feeling a distinct lack of comfort at the moment.

“Don’t wait up,” he muttered, failing to keep the strain from his tone. He immediately ducked out one of the blown out windows, because now was not the time to worry about what was and was not a door. 

Now was a time to get as far away from human contact as possible. 

Because the world hated him, he only got three blocks away before Remus tried to tackle him at full speed. Emphasis on ‘tried’, because Virgil’s ‘spidey-sense’ nearly puppeteered him out of the way, even more high-strung than normal. “I told you to-- why?” 

“I must really be losing my touch if I seem like the kind of person who takes orders,” Remus said, hand on a hip as he recovered from his failed lunge. “Especially after you just took a bullet for me like some swooning damsel. Is my bro rubbing off on you or something?”

Virgil, who could feel his headache getting stronger by the minute, forewent words entirely in favor of a very rude gesture that had absolutely no effect. “Look, I’m not playing coy here. Whatever was in that dart was bad news, you need to leave, now--” 

He hurriedly smacked a hand over his mouth, but it was too late to take back the warped double-tone of his words. Remus, despite all his actions, was not an idiot, and his eyes flicked between Virgil’s face and his arms before widening with realization.

“No fuckin’ way,” he said, advancing a step closer. Virgil shifted a leg back. “You-- Paranoia? You’re alive?” 

“Paranoia’s dead,” Virgil snarled, even as his voice refused to cooperate, even as his shadows began to pull themselves away from his skin and materialize as a particular villain’s signature fog. He clutched at his head, gritting his teeth as he struggled to keep the fog from spreading. “Fuck, I thought I was done feeling out of control of my own goddamn powers.” 

Remus seemed to notice Virgil’s posture, the disbelieving half-smile dropping off his face in favor of something like concern. “Woah, easy, emo. I’m not gonna rat you out, but you do look a little pathetic and in need of help. Hey, you’re a boring normie now, can’t you just call the cavalry?” 

“No!” More fog dripped off of him at the mere thought of interacting with the heroes like this. He’d ‘killed’ his old identity for a reason; he didn’t ever want to subject them to that. 

“Fine, fine! Yeesh, and people call me dramatic,” Remus said, his hands held up in a gesture of non-aggression. “If you won’t call them, then you can hide out at my place until we figure out how to deal with your little leaking problem.” 

Virgil grimaced at the description, and then shook his head. “It’s too dangerous-- Hey!”

His voice cracked embarrassingly as Remus stepped forwards, caught his arm, and slung it over his shoulders in one fluid gesture. The fear fog swirled around him like thick and burning smoke, but he barely even blinked.

“Dangerous, schmangerous,” Remus said, and tugged him towards the next back alley turn. “This is weak shit; Vigilante-You is much scarier, what with all that control and precision.” He fanned himself with one hand, grinning mockingly. “It’s enough to give me goosebumps.” 

Virgil punched his shoulder, shaking his head, but Remus really didn’t seem affected, and he could already feel his shadows becoming more manageable as he calmed down. “Fine, but you asked for it. No complaining when I make your hideout feel like the twilight zone.” 

Remus cackled again as he led the way. “Shade, you underestimate my appreciation for freaky shit. If you spookify my place, I’m going to be ecstatic.” 

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Sweet Sixteen

((This scene just popped into my head, aaaaand I don’t feel like writing anything else atm so- hope you all enjoy))

It wasn’t often that the lair was bustling early in the morning; the Hamato-Jitsu family stayed up late, and often slept in even later. But on certain days such as these, only one person was allowed to sleep in...

At about 7 a.m., all activity was quickly shushed as silent shadows crept towards a specific room - a bedroom with red-tinted walls thanks to the small lamp that was still lit. They could hear quiet snores, and grinned to themselves as they snuck inside.

Still somewhat asleep but awake enough that his ninja senses were reacting to certain noises and scents, Raph snorted a bit and turned over as he began to stir from his slumber. He instinctively hugged his teddy - he had chosen Dr. Huggenstein the night before - close and tried to bury his face in the back of its head, hoping for just a bit more sleep.

And yet, his mind was slowly starting to wake. He could smell something fruity and buttery near. He could hear quiet giggles and quiet steps padding across the floor of his room. And, despite his eyes being closed, he could still somewhat ‘see’ figures coming closer and closer, until they were standing right in front of him...

With his curiosity now too much for even his sleepy mind to ignore, Raph opened one eye, and-

“SURPRISE!”

The snapper flinched, startled as he sat up and nearly throwing a punch at his ‘surprise’ - although this was anything but a surprise attack, and due to expecting it, his family easily stepped back, avoiding the hit expertly as they laughed. 

Donnie and Mikey threw bundles of red and green confetti at him, and as Splinter held up the stack of strawberry and chocolate waffles, Leo leaned over and placed a plastic “Sweet Sixteen” tiara right on his big brother’s head. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~!”

Although he groaned a bit at being surprised by one of their family’s longest running traditions (again. You’d think expecting it would be enough to STOP him from freaking out), Raph still smiled as his family sang and clapped. 

When they finished, Raph naturally invited them all in for a group hug. “D’awww, thanks guys.”

“No probles, Big Brother.” “Happy birthday, Raphie!” “Heh, seems like we got you pretty good this year, huh?”

“Ugh, only ‘cause I was in a deep sleep!” Raph argued, pouting only a little, “I’ll be ready next year.”

Splinter just chuckled at his boys, shaking his head. He hadn’t expected this Birthday Morning tradition to last sixteen years when he started doing it when they were all tots (albeit with less screaming involved, at first) but he was sure glad that it had. “Here,” he said, handing the snapper his breakfast, “Best to eat them before they get too cold and soggy.”

“Right, don’t wanna lose that crunch,” Raph agreed, quickly digging in. Although they still had their own breakfasts to prepare, his brothers and father kept him company as he ate. Honestly, Raph appreciated that just as much as he appreciated the breakfast itself.

Naturally, they discussed Raph’s ‘birthday wish’ plans for that day first - another family tradition, the birthday boy (or girl, in April’s case) gets to decide what they all did as a group that day. For his Sweet 16, Raph had decided on some sparring with Frankenfoot, go-karting at Albeartoland, a small shopping spree at Teddy Bear Town (gotta spend that bday money somehow) and capping off the night with a three-hour wrestling special that was premiering on TV (after presents and cake, of course). 

His bros approved of all these ideas, and after texting the schedule to April and CJ, they gave her approval too.

Afterwards, the brothers moved on onto talking about past birthdays, followed by Leo, Mikey and Donnie all talking about the plans that they had for their upcoming birthdays. But as fun as this conversation was, Raph couldn’t help but notice his father growing quieter the longer it went on.

Eventually, his brothers excused themselves to both grab their own breakfasts and give Raph some space to get ready for the day. (The guy didn’t even have his bandana on yet! How embarrassing - or at least it would’ve been if there was anyone but family there). The only one who stayed was his pop, sitting there as content as ever with a soft, slightly bittersweet smile on his face.

“...Everything alright, Pops?” Raph finally asked, once he had polished off his waffles.

“Hm? Oh yes yes, I’m fine... So, how are you feeling, my son?” Splinter asked, “Sixteen is a pretty big milestone, after all.”

“Heh, I’m good. ...Honestly, it doesn’t feel all that different from fifteen” Raph replied. Thinking about it, he added, “Maybe ‘cause a bunch of stuff has already happened in the past year?” He was now officially a year older, yeah, but it felt like he had already done plenty of changing and growing before then.

Who would’ve thought that he would be given mystic weapons (and later mystic powers), learn about his dad’s past, take down several city-ending threats, meet the spirits of his family, and become a hero alongside his family and friends all before his next birthday? That whole situation was... pretty crazy to think about. Amazing, yeah, but definitely still crazy. In that sense, maybe a more normal and lowkey birthday was just what he needed.

Raph was brought back to the present when he felt his father patting his shell. “Yes, you make a fair point... Still, this birthday is just as much an accomplishment as anything else, and certainly worth celebrating properly.”

The old rat sighed a bit, closing his eyes for just a moment. “You boys are growing up so fast... Before I know it, you will be all grown up. You and your brothers...”

“Aw, come on, Dad...” Setting his plate to the side, Raph pulled Splinter in for a one-armed hug. “We’re always gonna need ya, no matter how old or grown up we get.”

“Heh, I know...” But it was still admittedly nice to hear. “Still, you cannot blame me for being a bit... well, a bit shell-shocked as it were whenever I think about how far you have come, Red. I remember when you were all small enough for me to hold in my arms, and now-”

Splinter stopped, his eyes widening as if he realized (or maybe remembered) something - something apparently funny enough to make him laugh. “Did I tell you- ah, no, I wouldn’t have... Well, no time than the present. Want to know something about the day you were born?”

Raph’s eyes widened at the suggestion, more than a little surprised at his dad’s sudden openness about that day, which Splinter supposed he should have expected, considering previous reactions to anything (or anyone) relating to it.

“I know I do not always-” or ever- “talk about the day I was mutated, but it was not a completely bad day.” He smirked. “I got you boys that day, didn’t I? Heh, you were all so tiny and cute! And you-” Splinter laughed again, and while he was still a bit surprised, now Raph was curious about what was so funny, and how did it involve him?

“Okay, so- this was before your boys were- yourselves. Back when you were norm- ah, average turtles. I was picking you all up, looking at how cute you all were and, well, at one point I decided to give you a kiss on your little head - and you know what you did in return? You bit me!”

“Pffft-!” Raph brought a hand to his mouth, hiding his laughs. “I did not!”

“Oh yes you did!” Splinter shot back, grinning now, “Bit me right on the lip! And I am pretty sure I still have the scar to prove it, somewhere under all this fur. Oh, I was so mad! Heh, but only for a few seconds. It is cruel to be mad at a baby, after all...”

His expression softened a bit as he thought about what happened next. Although Splinter was sure that he would always have mixed feelings about what happened that day and the transformation he received, he would always see the creation of his sons as a blessing that he would always be grateful for.

“Once you were all yourselves, I did all I could to get you boys to safety. And when I held you and your brothers in my arms and saw you all looking up at me... I knew that I would never be able to let you go.” 

Even before he began calling them his sons, even when he still only saw them as ‘innocent creatures’ and had no idea what they would eventually become, they were still his. And they always would be. 

“You have all grown so much that day... And I am not just talking about size, although you especially have certainly gotten bigger.” Splinter looked up and smiled at his eldest. “You are strong, and brave, and so kind... You are more of an honorable man at sixteen than I ever was, and I am so, SO very proud of you, Raphael.”

By this point, Raph’s tears were already beginning to fall, but the snapper could hardly care about that. He just brought his rat dad in for another hug - one that Splinter happily returned. When he eventually felt his son’s grip begin to loosen, Splinter moved to stand on his tip-toes and moved his tail towards his son’s head.

Understanding what he was getting at, Raph lowered his head, allowing Splinter’s tail to lift up the silly tiara as his dad planted a kiss right on the center of his head. “Heh... Happy birthday, my son.”

Wiping his eyes, Raph nodded back. “Thanks, Pops.”

“Oh please, thank YOU for not biting me again.” 

The two shared another laugh, staying beside each other a bit longer. When Splinter did finally decide to leave, he made sure to grab his son’s plate to take back to the kitchen. “Try not to come home too late, I’ll be sure to have supper waiting for you all when you get back. But make sure to enjoy yourself today too, okay?”

Raph chuckled, nodding again. “I will,” he promised - easy enough to do, considering it already felt like a great day. Splinter gave him one last smile before walking away.

As he put on his bandana and his wraps, Raph continued to smile to himself. Maybe he didn’t feel any different than he did at fifteen, and maybe in comparison the days where he escaped a Battle Nexus or fought a dark armor, a birthday wasn’t THAT big of a deal.

But maybe his dad was also right. Maybe it was still an accomplishment that he was a year older - that he was still there, still living and still right beside his family, even after a less-than-normal ‘birth’ and everything that came after. 

Maybe that really was worth celebrating, especially when that celebrating was done with the people that actually made his life worth living.

Speaking of which- “Hey, Raph! You still in there?” “Come on! We’ve already got the dojo set up, and we’re pretty sure Buddy’s just gonna start punchin’ stuff if you don’t get in here!”

“Yeah yeah, I’m coming - and you guys better be ready!” Raph shouted back, grinning. 

With his wraps, belts and bandana all now on, he grabbed his sai, spinning them a few times before sliding them into their holsters. Once that was done, he happily raced out of his room and ran towards the dojo, more than ready to seize the day - seize his birthday - for all it was worth.

THE END

[the-taboo-king]

@more-than-a-princess answered [+]

Most Japanese high schools went to the beach for their school trip, if her favorite anime series were anything to go by. Most high schools weren’t Hope’s Peak Academy.

It had been Class 77-B’s intention to visit Okinawa that October, though when Yukizome-sensei had announced the dates, Sonia’s wish for a normal school trip had no chance of coming true. While she was exempt from many of her official duties at home while in Japan, Novoselic’s annual Masquerade Ball that year could not be missed. It was coupled with her eighteenth birthday, a milestone for any Novoselic royal but her position as future monarch had turned it into a day of national pride and an influx in tourism. The Harvest celebrations had fallen out of fashion with the rise of industry in the 19th Century, a more frivolous masked ball taking its place. And while it was often her favorite event of the year, the added spectacle of her birthday and her teacher’s brilliant idea to take Class 77-B to Europe instead of the beach had left Sonia an anxious mess for the past week, though her sweet, confident smile left no indication.

She’d performed her role flawlessly. Holding her tongue when every wish to incorporate a macabre theme to the festivities was ignored for simple, dark elegance, her entrance with her father on the grand staircase, the opening waltz with the Prince of Belgium, and seemingly endless greetings to the wealthy and aristocratic in attendance. But inside she cringed, shooting her classmates apologetic looks as she was escorted around the lively ballroom.

At least she’d gotten her way with her choice of charity, Novoselic’s orphanages, and her gown. While she had to adhere to tradition, incorporating the necessary steel-boned corset and hoops to support the voluminous, embellished dress, Sonia strongly preferred the blood red shade of her tiered, off-the-shoulder ballgown than the cream color that had been chosen for her, and when paired with teardrop rubies and diamonds at her neck and earlobes, the effect resembled blood droplets against her pale skin. But she barely noticed the heavy fabric and restrictive undergarments: Sonia had escaped to the castle’s quiet portrait gallery in order to relieve herself of her coordinating gold and diamond tiara and filigree mask, both of which did nothing to hide her identity. The appeal of the a masquerade ball was to blend in, but her museum-worthy accessories of the evening kept her easy to find in crowds.

Untying the red silk ribbon at the back of her head, she set her mask aside, tiara soon following, and finally took the deep, unrefined breath she’d wanted all night. As soon as she thought she’d had a mild respite in polite greetings, Sonia had been cornered by Kazuichi, begging her to dance with him. This was precisely why she hadn’t wanted her classmates to witness her talent in full force at home: the pedestal so many put her on seemed to grow higher and higher.

As she heard the door creak open once more, Sonia clutched the stem of her full champagne flute, gaze fixated the gallery’s garden-facing window. “Please do not make me repeat myself, Kazuichi,” She stated firmly, making every effort not to lose her sense of composure, “But now is still not a good time to dance.”

   The knowledge that they’d be spending their school trip in Europe and attending a masquerade ball to honour Sonia’s birthday had left Gundham with equal parts relief and trepidation. On the one hand he will not have to suffer the burning sun of the beach or the shame of having to admit to his inability to swim. Instead, he will be attending an event that will be both suitable for his grandeur and wreathed in a fascinating dark mystique. The breeder has always wanted to attend such a high class event, to finally show himself he can truly mix with those in power. Certainly preferable to a beach central vacation, even if he does love to make sandcastles.

   A grand event such as this does present him with a couple obstacles. One is his distaste for crowds. The second being the amount of ritual and ceremony Sonia is forced to be involved in. It makes it somewhat difficult for him to approach her. Already he was finding it difficult to raise the courage to give her the birthday gift he’s kept on his person since arriving in Novoselic but now he is forced to wait as she is whisked from one awfully procedural conversation to another. He really should have just given it to her this morning instead of waiting for the perfect moment. Curse his romantic heart.

   His unnaturally dichromatic eyes peer through the whimsically sinister half-face mask he wears, watching the princess as Gundham lingers at the edges of the ballroom. In his attempts to appear engaged in this he may have offended a few too many noble and royally connected people. As his Overlord persona demands him to be above all others, including those of official ruling status, Gundham refuses to speak to them with the respect their titles demand. And he might be enjoying watching them splutter and bluster at him. Although, a few of the young women appear to be finding his antics both entertaining and alluring. Another reason for him to linger on the sidelines for a while.

   Gundham watches as Sonia slips from the room, his brow furrowing in concern. She did appear to be wavering under all the pressure placed upon her. She rarely shows any hint of her own fears but through their companionship Gundham has begun to notice tiny signs of that anxiety, small cracks in her bright smile few others could note. He suspects that last conversation with Kazuichi was the tipping point. He really should do something about that menace.

   Pulling himself away from the wall and out of this shadow he has placed himself in, the breeder follows after Sonia, the gift in his pocket momentarily forgotten in favour for his concern. Doubts arise when he reaches the door she vanished through, hand hovering over the handle. What if she doesn’t want to be disturbed? Maybe his presence will do more harm than good. Gundham sets his jaw, determined to help his friend. He then pushes through.

   Only to be greeted by this insulting comparison.

   “To be mistaken for that insignificant wretch. What a malicious slight that is, Dark Queen,” Gundham says, deep tones awash in his indignation. Still, he strides up to Sonia, coming to a stop beside her. “I would think my presence would be far more appealing. For instance, my attire is far more regal.” Gundham tugs on the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as if to point this out. The black definitely contrasts wonderfully with the purple flowered asymmetrical waistcoat he is wearing. “You must have seen just how garish that yellow suit was.”

[neuxue]

Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 36

It’s all in the nuances

Chapter 36: The Death of Tuon

Somehow I don’t think that title means what it looks like it means.

We’re back with Mat, but Verin is here so hopefully that should make things interesting.

“My goal was to make my way to Tar Valon.” “Then how did you end up here?” Mat asked

That’s an entirely fair question, but the first thing my mind went to, when Verin said that, was that you know who else’s goal was initially to make their way to Tar Valon?

Rand.

And so far, he has yet to even set foot in the city. I just find that kind of fun to think about, because I hadn’t really given it much thought before. But that was his entire goal pretty much all through EotW.

In comparison to that, Verin getting sidetracked for half a book somewhere in the middle of…is Mat in Murandy still?...is small potatoes.

Bloody [bench] must have been designed by insane, cross-eyed Trollocs and built from the bones of the damned. That was the only reasonable explanation.

Somewhat cringing at this because it is so very not Mat, and feels like it’s trying too hard. Meh. Anyway.

“You can Travel. So if you intended to go to the White Tower, then why not just bloody Travel there and be done with it?”

“Good questions,” Verin said. “Indeed. Might I have some tea?”

What, you thought you were going to get answers?

Good luck. I’ve been trying for ten books now and still all I have are suspicions. And one of those suspicions is that Verin is just a massive troll and enjoys fucking with people.

Because of the holes in his memory, Mat’s first meeting with Verin was fuzzy to him. In fact, his memory of her at all was fuzzy.

I’m not actually sure having your memories intact would help much with that, honestly.

Studying her, her mannerisms seemed too exaggerated to him. As if she were leaning on the preconceptions about Browns, using them. Fooling people, like a street performer taking in country boys with a clever game of three-card shuffle.

She eyed him. That smile on the corner of her lips? That was the smile of a jackleg who didn’t care that you were on to her con. Now that you understood, you could both enjoy the game, and perhaps together you could dupe someone else.

One trickster to another.

I like little moments of recognition like this between characters. Neither says anything, but they both know, and each one knows that the other knows, and so the rest of the scene can proceed with this undercurrent of understanding.

Two characters who recognise something similar in each other – or who recognise each other’s talents, at any rate – and who just look at each other across the board and say ‘shall we play a game?’

And as the reader you’re invited in as well, because it’s not so much adversarial as almost-but-not-quite-competitive, a test of skill almost, a game in many ways. So it’s an open invitation to play, because as the reader you also have that little extra bit of insight…but not enough to know everything that’s going on. So, like Mat, we get to try to spot the aforementioned con.

Also, I just love that Verin and Mat are set side by side here because at first glance they’re total opposites, but by positioning them this way we see Verin as being…perhaps not quite trickster but certainly trickster-adjacent, herself. She’s not the roguish yet honourable young man with a jaunty hat and a cool spear; she’s a plump middle-aged woman with probably an inkstain or two on her clothes and an almost grandmotherly manner. And yet here she is.

I mean, not that we didn’t already kind of know that. But I love these moments where Verin is revealed again to be not entirely what she seems, yet in a way that suits her. It’s some good character development for Mat, as well. Everyone wins here, really.

Good luck getting Mat to admit outright to being ta’veren, Verin.

(Good luck getting Verin to say anything at all outright, Mat).

“But you can’t hide your light in [Rand’s] shadow, Matrim Cauthon.”

That sounds like what Melindhra used to say to him.

Also, I don’t know; Tuon described Rand as having a shadow like a mountain last chapter, and it’s all rather dark there these days, so if you’re going to try, now’s the time.

Casual mention of Verin having just been with Rand, which I think is anything but casual.

“How…did he seem?” Mat said. “Is he…you know…”

“Mad?” Verin asked.

Mat nodded.

“I’m afraid so,” Verin said, lips downturning slightly. “I think he’s still in control of himself, however.”

There’s very little…softening of the truth with Verin, either to herself or to others. Obfuscating of it to serve her purposes, sure. But denial or wishful thinking or gentle presentation of facts? Not so much. She deals with the world as she finds it, because wishing it otherwise won’t make it so (unless, perhaps, you’re the Dragon Reborn and a Fisher King analogue, in which case all bets are off). So she’s not going to soft-pedal her perceptions of Rand, even for a friend of his. Whether or not she’s completely correct is another question, but she’s not going to waste time trying to ignore what she sees.

I like Mat’s hesitant concern for Rand, here. He tried to break off their friendship as far back as TGH, but it never quite snapped completely. And I think he cares more about Rand than he might admit.

“I’m not convinced young al’Thor’s problems are completely due to the Power, Matrim. Many would like to blame his temperament on saidin, but to do that is to ignore the incredible stresses that we’ve settled on that poor boy’s shoulders.

There’s something about the way she says this, so matter-of-fact but at the same time so clearly aware and even sympathetic of something that very few characters even begin to acknowledge, much less understand, that lends a great deal of poignancy to this statement.

I think it’s maybe because it’s so matter-of-fact. It’s not sentimental, and Verin knew Rand earlier on but doesn’t have any particular attachment to him the way, say, Min or Nynaeve or even Egwene or Mat do. She’s not saying this out of sympathy or sorrow. And yet that gives it more weight, in a way; it’s a way of showing how clear that is to her, that she sees it as just a statement of fact. His humanity and youth, so easily forgotten by most, are just simple fact to her.

And that means so much, when so few in the world see the Dragon Reborn anymore as anything but a force, a power, a monster, a legend. Rand is a man who can channel. Men who can channel are driven mad by the taint on saidin. Therefore Rand must be mad. Therefore the things Rand does must be madness. The root of this must be the taint. And thus they can ignore everything else involved that might be harder to accept, everything that might cause an uncomfortable conflict of conscience.

Easier to see the Dragon Reborn as a necessary monster on the verge of madness, perhaps, than to see a tortured young man carrying far too heavy a task for a world that fears and even reviles him. Because the first option doesn’t ask you to do anything. It’s terrifying, certainly, but in a distant ‘nothing I can do’ kind of way. Or, for those who want to manipulate him, it gives them a very reasonable basis for doing so.

But Verin…Verin just looks at the situation and sees truth, apparently unclouded by sentiment or self-interest or fear or denial. And thus, perhaps ironically, ends up with a view of Rand that is far more sympathetic than almost any other character aside from those very closest to him.

He is only human. He is young. He is tired and desperate and in pain. And Verin sees that, and understands its effects. Even as she is ostensibly working to keep him alive until it is ‘time for him to die’. She does not allow herself to soften that necessity, to take the easy way out by blaming saidin or by looking at him as anything other than what he is.

Oh and by the way saidin is clean now.

Once again, Verin has this way of getting straight to the heart of things, and making these sorts of statements that are almost uncomfortable in their truth or insightfulness or just in what they force people to think about. But she does it with this mask of being just a typical Brown, lost in her own thoughts, unaware of the full effect of what she’s saying, drifting off on a tangent that just so happens to make everyone else uncomfortable. et there’s nothing vague or accidental or even truly tactless about it. She knows that this is the best way to get her thoughts heard, but in such a way as to not bring any sort of…suspicion? scrutiny? unwanted attention? upon herself.

And also in a way that doesn’t leave people a lot of room to evade the truth, even if just for a few seconds. It’s why her words often result in brief uncomfortable silences. Because she doesn’t leave an easy way out…until she decides herself to provide one, to bring things back to comfortable topics.

“I would argue that the cleansing itself is more like a pebble thrown into a pond. The ripples will take some time to reach the shore.”

“A pebble?” Mat asked. “A pebble?”

“Well, perhaps more of a boulder.”

“A bloody mountain if you ask me”

Again with the mountains. Yes, Mat, a mountain. An almost literally bloody mountain, you could say.

Flaming Aes Sedai. Did they have to be like that? It was probably another oath they took and told nobody about, something to do with acting mysterious.

Hey, that sounded almost like Mat! The ‘it was probably another oath’ part, I mean.

And now back to alien body-snatcher Mat. Ah well.

That’s okay, because it’s storytime with Verin! Who seems to have experienced the fantasy, ta’veren-induced equivalent of the classic and truly infurating ‘this flight has been delayed for approximately thirty minutes’ announcement happening every hour on the hour for eight hours while you remain stuck in the airport waiting area, unable to actually go anywhere, even though you really could have, because every time you consider going a bit further away the announcement promises that you’ll be boarding soon. (It lies).

No I’m not speaking from personal experience what are you talking about.

Except in Verin’s case it involves a truly absurd number of coincidences such as leaks and inn fires to prevent her from ever learning a place well enough to Travel from it.

“So? Mat said. “Still sounds like a coincidence.”

You’d think Matrim ‘I’m leaving now, Rand, for real this ti—oh look a battle!’ Cauthon would have a little more sympathy.

“I soon started to feel a tugging on me. Something pulling me, yanking at me. As if…”

Mat shifted again. “As if somebody’s got a bloody fishhook inside of you?”

As if the Pattern is exasperatedly trying to fix a chessboard that was set up by six-year-olds? “No, that piece goes here…oh just let me do it.”

“I was quite fatigued from my days staying up all hours because of fires, crying babies, and constant moves from one inn room to another.”

Oh the joys of business travel.

“It was then that I kenw for certain that I was being directed. Most wouldn’t have noticed it, I suspect, but I have made a study of the nature of ta’veren.”

Is there anything you haven’tmade a study of, Verin?

“I spoke with Tomas, and we determined to avoid gong where we were being pulled. […] I opened a gateway, but when we reached the end of our journey, we stepped not into Tar Valon, but a small village in northern Murandy!”

I’m laughing at how hard the Pattern has to work to get anyone to go to Murandy, I guess. Maybe it’s not actually ta’veren; it’s just a lot of money spent on a tourism campaign. Part of Roedran’s plans for economic development, no doubt.

“One thing bothers me, however,” Verin said. “Was there no other person who could have happened into your path?”

You’re just that special, Verin.

Now the question is why?

“First, we should negotiate my price for taking you to Andor.”

Okay no, apparently the question now, as far as Verin is concerned, is just the classic ‘how much?’

I can respect that.

Ah, so she wasn’t the one distributing the drawings of him, she just found one.

I’m pretty sure saidarisn’t a verb, but then, Mat used ‘Aes Sedai’ as a verb when he was still being written by Robert Jordan, so…whatever. It’s probably the least out-of-character part of the sentence, which might be saying something.

“I received this paper, Matrim, from a Darkfriend,” she said, “who told me – thinking me a servant of the Shadow – that one of the Forsaken had commanded that the men in these pictures be killed.”

Oh, so it was about that after all.

More importantly though…*squints at Verin* any particular reason he thought you were a servant of the Shadow? That’s some extremely Aes Sedai phrasing right there…

She thinks Mat should go into hiding? That’s…extreme. Though it’s kind of what he’s been doing for the last several books, in a way, if not necessarily always by design.

“I’m always careful,” Mat said.

Presented without further comment.

She slipped a small folded piece of paper out from under the picture. It was sealed with a drop of blood-red wax.

Mat took it hesitantly. “It is?”

“Instructions,” Verin said. “Which you will follow on the tenth day after I leave you in Caemlyn.”

He scratched his neck, fronwing, then moved to break the seal.

“You aren’t to open them until that day,” Verin said.

NOW WHAT DOES THIS REMIND YOU OF?

Mysterious envelopes from an Aes Sedai, that must not be opened just yet, not while she’s here watching…

This has always boded well before. As Mat has every reason to know, having read another of them and seen a third handed over.

Mat wants no part of this agreement, though. Really? You’d rather walk twenty days to Caemlyn than wait ten days there?

Then again, promising to follow mysterious instructions given to you by an Aes Sedai you recognise as being not entirely what she seems, is…well, I suppose I can’t completely fault him for being wary. So here we are, at a question of whether or not to trust an Aes Sedai.

Is this her game, here? Which choice does she actually want him to make? Could it be that she knows he distrusts Aes Sedai and the One Power and also hates being told what to do, and so is presenting this to him in such a way that she knows he won’t open it? Though in that case, why? It reminds me a little, perhaps, of her giving Egwene the dream ter’angreal but not Corianin’s notes. Yet it also seems a little too convoluted; there would have to be some reason why she had no choice but to give him whatever instructions are in that envelope, and yet also not want him to follow them. Occam’s Razor would certainly suggest the simpler answer: she does want him to read them. But…I just don’t know.

“I might not need you to go through with the contents. I hope to be able to return to you and relieve you of the letter and send you on your way. But if I cannot…”

So there is a scenario in which she doesn’t want the instructions followed. Which means it’s possible she doesn’t want them followed at all, but has to give them to him for some reason…and nothing she’s said has narrowed it down even if we trust that she is bound by the first Oath. Which at this point I wouldn’t put any money on. On either side of that bet.

What instructions could she have for him, that are so conditional? And on what? WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING, VERIN?

What might you not be able to return from?

Who are you?

“The compromise, then?” Mat said.

“You may choose not to open the letter,” Verin said. “Burn it. But if you do so, you wait fifty days in Caemlyn”

A choice between knowledge but being bound, and ignorance but freedom. How…perfect a dilemma, really, for one who so embodies Odin and the trickster archetype.

But what does Verin know? What is going to happen in Caemlyn between ten and fifty days after she leaves? She has to know something; otherwise the waiting seems too arbitrary.

“Twenty days,” he said.

“Thirty days,” she said, rising, then raised a finger to cut off his objection.

She had to have known he would try to bargain with her. So, between ten and thirty days after she leaves him…what? What instructions would be relevant after ten days, but irrelevant before ten and after thirty? What is going to happen? All I can think of is something to do with Elayne being crowned as Queen, maybe, because just about everything else from that storyline was more or less wrapped up when we left Caemlyn at the end of the last book. Or something to do with the Borderlanders?

I can’t figure it out, and I also can’t work out what angle Verin is playing here, what she even wants Mat to do, which side of the compromise she wants him to take. So I can’t figure out which one he should take.

Verin’s pretty damn good at this.

Verin eyed him, a hint of worry on her face. He couldn’t let her know how pleased he was.

But we also know, from their brief moment of mutual recognition at the start of this scene, that she might know anyway. Or that she might be letting worry show deliberately. Or…

She folded up the picture of him, then took a small leather-bound satchel from her pocket. She opened it, sliding the picture inside, and as she did, he noticed that she had a small stack of folded, sealed pieces of paper inside just like the one he was holding.

What are you up to, Verin Sedai? Because this feels very like what Moiraine did when she knew she was about to…go away.

A stack full of mysterious letters? Instructions not to open them until after she leaves? A very vaguely worded statement about hoping she’ll be able to return to collect them?

She hasn’t told him ‘you will do well’, but other than that, this sure looks like a…not a farewell so much as a final play of some kind.

Also she can’t have let him see those letters by accident. So does she want him to wonder? Why?

Why was Verin being so cryptic?

GOOD. FUCKING. QUESTION.

Though it’s hardly a remarkable occurrence; she’s been cryptic for ten damn books already.

Tuon was dead. Gone, cast aside, forgotten.

That’s a fun way to start a POV. A statement not of identity, but of nonexistence. Of the relinquishing of an identity, the death of one.

Fortuona was empress.

OH

MY FUCKING GOD

FORTUONA.

Fortune rides like the sun on high, with the fox that makes the ravens fly…

Fortune. Fortuona. She’s Lady Luck.

I can’t decide if that’s brilliant or over the top. Maybe a little bit of both. It does give a rather excellent double meaning to that line of the Prophecies.

Either way, she’s standing in front of the forces she has assembled for, presumably, an attack on Tar Valon. So…we’re doing this.

Fifty sul’dam and damane pairs, including Dali and her sul’dam Malahavana, whom Fortuona had given to the cause. She had felt the need to sacrifice something personal to this most important of missions.

Um, Tuon? Those are people. So yes, you are sacrificing something personalin that you are sacrificing a person. Who herself has no choice in whether or not to be your own personal sacrifice so that you feel like you’re truly invested in this.

Though for some reason Rand’s thought a few chapters ago about Min, that if she died, he would add her name to the list and suffer for it comes to mind. These are people, and their lives have meaning beyond the pain their deaths would cause you.

But of course, to the Seanchan, Malahavana is simply property. So the greatest cost, if she dies, is not to her or her family, but to Tuon. Which is fucked up. Hot take: slavery is bad!

Fortuona looked down at the soldier before her, laying her fingers on his forehead, where she had kissed him. “May your death bring victory,” she said softly, speaking the ritual words. “May your knife draw blood. May your children sing your praises until the final dawn.”

That doesn’t sound like a blessing you give to someone who has any hope of returning. This soldier is one of five, so maybe it’s a special suicide mission? To do…what?

Their assault would begin in darkness

How…appropriate. It was made possible – or made certain – by the darkness surrounding Rand, and such an attack serves the Shadow far better than it serves the Light, by bringing even greater strife and division amongst those that should be united.

They really needed that treaty.

It speaks to why Rand suppressing his ability to feel, deciding there are no limits left to him, losing sight of what he’s fighting for, and pushing only for the Last Battle itself and nothing beyond that, is disastrous on more than just a metaphysical/teleological standpoint. It’s not just an issue because this is a fight between Good and Evil and so the champion of Good must embody that ideal. I do think there’s an element of that, of course – it’s where the Fisher King imagery comes in, and the notion of the land being one with the Dragon and vice versa – but there’s also the practical fact that if you’re terrifying and cold and surrounded by an aura of darkness, people aren’t going to want to make peace treaties with you. Or be motivated to fight for your cause. Or listen to you at all. Or have any hope themselves of what might come after, because the examples and expectations being set are so dark.

It all blurs together at some point, the practical and more philosophical reasons, but there’s definitely a practical aspect there. It’s hard to win a fight you no longer have any reason to want to win. And it’s hard to win a fight when you look more like the thing you’re fighting than the thing you’re fighting for, because other people will see that. People who should be on your side will see that. And they, like Tuon, will draw their own conclusions and act accordingly.

Oh hey one of these special five is a woman. At least one. I like that this is specifically shown, in addition to the more general statement that over half the Fists of Heaven here are women. General statements are a lot easier to make, and are sometimes used as a bit of an excuse, or a halfhearted ‘see, look, we gave you what you wanted’. Specifics help bolster that. Even if in this case the specific in question is a woman being sent on a suicide mission to fight for the enslavement of women who can wield Power. You can’t have everything.

(I should clarify I’m being facetious there; I don’t think the Seanchan staging an assault on the White Tower is specifically gender-coded in that way. And I do genuinely appreciate seeing women amongst the elite forces, because that’s cool, all other issues with the Seanchan aside).

Oh. Bloodknives. They’ve been mentioned before, but only in the most offhand of comments.

The pure black stone ring each one wore was a specialised ter’angrealthat would grant them strength and speed, and would shroud them in darkness

That sounds quite a lot like the benefits of the Warder bond.

The incredible abilities came at a cost, however, for the rings leeched life from their hosts, killing them in a matter of days.

That also sounds a little like the costs of the Warder bond. Of a bond that is broken, anyway.

The whole thing also smells of a secondary purpose, introduced like this so late in the game. Not sure how, precisely, but I’ll be keeping an eye on these ter’angrealthat have now been placed on the mantle.

These five would not return. They would stay behind, whatever the results of the raid, to kill as many marath’damane as they could

Oh.

Was this what Min foresaw, when she visited the Tower in TSR and saw death and blood on so many faces? And knew it would all happen within the same day? The fact that Elaida’s coup took place so soon after made it seem like that was what Min had seen, but what if it was actually a viewing of this attack? If so, that’s truly impressive use of foreshadowing and misdirection. Well played. *slow clap*

Fortuona kissed the last of the five Bloodknives, speaking the words condemning them to death, but also to heroism.

I love this sentence, because the structure of it implies that heroism is also a condemnation. They’re presented as illusory opposites, but the same verb applies to each. Condemned to heroism. It’s a concept and a way of looking at things that I love, and actually it’s not at all out of place in this series. Just look at Rand.

That whole sentence reminds me of Rand, really. Condemned to death and heroism. Destruction and salvation. Condemned to be the saviour of the world, and reaching a point where it’s hard to tell, between death and heroism, which is the cost and which is the reward.

And the soldiers are off. No turning back now. I hope you’re ready, Egwene. It might be your last and best chance to pull the Tower together. A common enemy…

As the final light of the sunset died, they struck northward.

There’s something very appropriate about that. The final death of the light, the vanishing of that last chance for reconciliation as Rand walked away; it felt like a victory for the Shadow, a fracturing of the Light.

Also, even striking northward has something of a double meaning. The Blight lies north, but still they fight each other. They should be heading there, as the Shadow stretches across the land and the last battle comes. As the sunset dies they should look north. But not like this.

It could be the beginning of a bold new tactic. Or it could lead to a disaster.

Travelling, gunpowder, aerial assaults. They’ve changed war, and that isn’t something that they can just…step back from, once the Last Battle has been fought.

“We have changed everything,” Fortuona said softly. “General Galgan is wrong; this will not give the Dragon Reborn a worse bargaining position. It will turn him against us.”

She sees. She understands what that negotiation was, and what its failure has cost them. She does not see any other decision she can make – and given what she saw of Rand, it’s hard to see how she could think otherwise, and hard even to disagree with the underlying thought there, that he is dangerous and cannot be allowed to claim more power, as he is – but Tuon is very good at what she does. She understands nuances of politics and power and strategy, and she knows what this will do. But she also does not see an alternative.

Or should I be calling her Fortuona, now? It’s hard when fictional characters change names mid-story; I like it, as a storytelling device, because it’s such a good way to convey a sense or change of identity, but I never then know how to refer to the character, especially in something like this liveblog. And I’m not at all consistent – I call Moridin by his new name but I’m still referring to Tuon as Tuon rather than Fortuona, and I’m not even sure what I do with Egeanin/Leilwin.

“And was he not against us before?” Selucia asked.

“No,” Fortuona said. “We were against him.”

This is excellent. The subtle but at the same time vast difference between those two. The fact that Tuon can so clearly understand this, and what it means. They were his enemy. Now, because of what they do today, they will make him theirs.

Tuon isn’t always the most sympathetic character, largely because she came to the story late, is from a completely foreign culture to the rest of the narrative, and holds some views that are…difficult to reconcile, for a modern reader. But it’s moments like these that make her work, I think. This ability to see beyond what most do – not to change her mind, necessarily, but to be so perceptive and to understand the way people think and work. To be able to look at and judge her own actions and decisions, and to understand the implications.

She’s not going to war against the Tower – and making an enemy of the Dragon Reborn – just for shits and giggles, or even because of a clash of ideologies. That plays into it, because she believes her view to be the right one, but it goes deeper than that. And she understands consequences and tradeoffs and costs. She can recognise that yes, they were against him. And that this will not fix that, but will instead likely exacerbate it. And also that she has no other choice.

But we can sympathise with her more, because we believe that thought process, even if ours might be different. She doesn’t simply press blindly ahead with a single agenda; she looks at the whole situation and understands what her options are and what the results will likely be of each. And because she’s so perceptive, and so strategically capable, we can then trust her more, in a sense, when she does make a decision that sets her against most of the other sympathetic characters. So instead of being a villain by default, she gains much more depth and a certain level of sympathy.

Anyway, this is of course going to end well. To make an enemy of Rand, as he is now?

Though perhaps the more interesting question is, what will Egwene do in the face of her dream coming true? It seems like she could use this to unite the Tower around her. But I also wonder if maybe, just maybe, she could do here what Rand could not. There would be a certain poetry in that, for her own arc.

Next (TGS ch 37) Previous (TGS ch 35)

[crawldepth-blog]

Journalism Fiction

Stories about journalists almost cross a taste threshhold into self-licking-ice-cream-cone territory. Depending on your disposition toward The Press, journalism fiction can entertain or annoy one. Reporters, editors, newspapermen, on-air anchors, and all of their peers rarely find positive purchase in the hearts and minds of American audiences. As far back as the 18th century, John Adams and Benjamin Franklin regularly and unfetteredly manipulated newspaper media and their enterprise to achieve political goals. Still, for every negative perception of a journalist one hears these days, stalwarts will remind you of Dustin Hoffman’s and Robert Redford’s winsome portrayals of Carl Bernstein and Bob Woodward in All the President’s Men.

Two very different but equally powerful stories about journalism unfolded in the comics medium in the past 20 years. Both of these series exemplify the gritty requirement for modern journalism using near-future settings into which morally grey protagonists dance with darker elements of their reporting subjects. From 1997 to 2002, writer Warren Ellis and artist Darick Robertson delivered 62 issues of Transmetropolitan through DC Comics’ Helix and Vertigo imprints. Transmet (as it is sometimes called by fans) follows one Spider Jerusalem, a modern media journalist in an anonymous city of the far future, as he ruthlessly pursues the truth in a raucous upheaval of politics, neo-futurism, and drugs. The second series, DMZ (also a DC Comics Vertigo publication), ran from 2005 to 2011 in 72 issues written by Brian Wood and illustrated by Riccardo Burchielli. DMZ explores a Second American Civil War where New York City becomes a demilitarized zone between the USA and the insurgent, non-territorial Free States of America. Journalist Matty Roth embeds into the DMZ to capture and tell the stories of the people caught between the two warring polities. Both series are available in collected print and digital editions.

Warren Ellis, known for grotesquely humorous yet disgusting comics and novels, wrote Transmetropolitan as an homage to the work of noted gonzo journalist and madman Hunter S. Thompson. Transmet also enabled Ellis to place his Thompson shadow, Spider Jerusalem, into a neofuturist cyberpunk world replete with cancer-killing supplements that enabled widespread cigarette smoking, inhalable microscopic robot psychadelics, and evolved police dogs conversant in your local language. Spider, previously driven mad by The City and its reckless aphorisms of transhumanism, returns to write a column for reputed newspaper, The Word.

Spider’s stories initially focus on the WOW FUTURE! aspects of Ellis and Robertson’s world. Spider inserts himself into the activities of each story, influencing outcomes so as to find the truth wherever possible. He writes exposes about a movement of citizens seeking transformation through alien DNA called The Transients, and how their leader conspires with local police to incite a riot that leads to a mass murder of Transient citizens. He also writes about cryogenically preserved people who had prviously died and now recently revived and cured of their illnesses, and how these people become shellshocked depressives unable to function normally or healthily in The City society that has changed so much from the time they were frozen. In these stories and more, Spider’s text guides the Transmetropolitan reader through humanistic considerations of each of these future scenarios. His narration becomes not just mere reporting but also a summary of the emotions one might feel toward each issue or scenario that Spider reports.

While the entertainment value remains high due to Spider’s inherent Thompson-like interactions with drugs and weapons throughout his investigations, the reader often leaves Transmet stories with an unsettled feeling about the near-future technology and cultural phenomena that Ellis explores. It’s not meant to be an easy pill to swallow. The series’ small one-off stories become morality plays in which Ellis uses Spider to unpack the philosophical, cultural, and technological implications of these stories. This serves a dual purpose as both an engaging comic book story but also an iterative insight into Spider’s own mentality, something crucial for the slow-build, underlying long story of the comic.

Ellis’ Thompson homage becomes even more clear when Spider engages in a crusade against American presidential candidate Gary Callahan. “The Smiler,” as he is derisively called, bears frightening correlations to several conservative presidents, from Nixon to Bush. Spider spends the majority of Transmet waging a journalistic war against Callahan, seeking to expose crimes the president committed and fighting off an increasingly harrassing law enforcement community. Spider’s quest for “The truth, no matter what” makes him a target for Callahan, who becomes increasingly unhinged as Spider’s investigations hit closer and closer to home. Readers experiencing Transmet for the Thompson allegories will quickly find shades of Nixon in Callhan and tingle with excitement as Spider’s story mirrors Thompson’s own journey in Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72.

Even as a product of its time, at its conclusion in 2002, Transmetropolitan bears eerie comparisons to the Trump presidency. Sixteen years later, the only thing that has changed between these worlds is the propensity for the crimes Spider elucidates being more visible and yet somehow less important to the masses. Spider himself is regarded as a hero for his writing and the investigative paths he takes to find the truth, but he pays a high price for it. While we love our drugs, so too does Spider, and we all turn to them to forget the latest presidential tomfoolery. Spider’s indulgence, however, costs him his health, which becomes an unsettling metaphor for the high mental cost paid by today’s journalists and intellectuals in the Trump age. Spider’s bloody, bruised battles (painfully depicted in inky blacks and bowel disrupting browns by Robertson) over the surveillance state, climate change as a weapon, presidential overreach, and a president’s war against the media itself all provoke uncanny comparisons to today, Our Foul Digital Nightmare.

Transmetropolitan will stand the test of time with its subject matter, and it should stand as a rallying cry for journalists everywhere. Hunter Thompson died in 2005, an ignominius end to the father of “gonzo journalism,” which became a curious yet forbidden attraction for many journalists seeking to break the stolid necktie-wearing mandate of elder statesmen journalists and Do All The Drugs. Spider Jerusalem’s adoption of Thompson’s outrageousness begs the question of whether that typically disapproving behavior tarnishes a journalist in this day and age... or does it add something that this day and age needs? Journalists today are constantly humiliated and attacked by the sitting president, and female reporters often lewdly so. Perhaps Spider Jerusalem can teach today’s journalists a lesson in dealing with such a foul personality: maybe you need a trusty bowel disruptor gun to break through the bullshit screen these days. Maybe Spider’s drug abuse is necessary to deal with the mental degradation of today’s news landscape, the promise of self-care too passive and mentally insecure for A Smiler or A Beast. In any case, Transmetropolitan’s relation to today’s context will become intimately familiar to readers right away and its lessons clear.

Wood and Burchielli’s DMZ takes a different approach to the challenge of journalists becoming involved in the stories they investigate. Wood directs his setting toward perceptions of the U.S. military by depicting an aftermath of five years of armed conflict between Americans in Manhattan. An undercurrent of uncertainty and anxiety runs through DMZ every time a military element appears in Burchielli’s panels. It could be the battle-rattle-bearing soldiers escorting Matty Roth to the helicopter that is utlimate shot down in Manhattan,  stranding him in the DMZ. It could be the ever-present whispers of the U.S. Army’s perceived atrocities in killing not only members of the Free States Armies but also hundreds of innocent, unarmed protesters, an act that permeates the opening of the book and explains the uncomfortable stalemate between the USA and the FSA in which Matty finds himself.

Matty - a photojournalist initially only accompanying another award-winning reporter who is killed in the helicopter crash - discovers that he is the only journalist on the ground with an uninterrupted connection back to the real world. In this rubble-strewn, war-torn New York, Matty seeks to understand the lives of the people trapped in the DMZ, all of whom could not evacuate before the last USA/FSA showdown there. Many of these people just want to live their lives safely and securely. What strikes the reader as they encounter characters with Matty in DMZ is the indomitable post-9/11 spirit of New Yorkers clashing with the hopelessness and fear of a post-Katrina New Orleanian or a post-riot Fergusonian. DMZ features a much realer take on cultural wariness of order than Transmet because Wood and Burchielli enable story elements familiar to all of us: faceless soldiers decked out in combat gear pointing weapons at unarmed black children, bombed-out buildings overgrown with vegetation and disease, the impoverished left behind or manipulated unknowingly by those with power.

DMZ asks “What if it happened here?” and uses familiar uncomfortable social elements to answer that question. Matty’s journey changes from journalist to activist as he navigates this broken world, and he eventually sacrifices his own journalistic morals to take up with one of the many DMZ factions, first telling their story and later literally taking up arms and killing on their behalf. It is through this experience of shedding his journalist ambitions and becoming part of a movement that Matty understands how much everything around him is propaganda. He finds himself manipulated, lied to, and coerced time and again for a variety of unintended outcomes even as he, in parallel, expresses his own beliefs in supporting the coercing parties.

Matty, unfortunately, acts as a stark reminder of how the media can be controlled. Despite being DMZ’s protagonist, Matty exhibits plenty of douchey, unbecoming behavior that purposely turns off the reader midway through the series. While this serves DMZ’s story well, the slimy nature of the character’s turn hits one hard in the gut as they think about the journalism profession writ large. How many times have you been let down by your favorite reporter? How did it feel when Dan Rather resigned from CBS News in the wake of his arguably suspect story about George W. Bush’s National Guard service? Like Transmet, a lesson can be implied from DMZ’s problematic journalist as well. While Transmet argues for the importance of journalists being involved in their stories, DMZ seems to do the same at first but then pulls the rug out from under the reader by showing how Matty’s decision to get involved leads to mass murder. “Watch your back, Jack,” DMZ warns. Sometimes doing the right thing, even in the best of circumstances, can turn around and backfire on you if you do not think about all the angles of the story and the long-term implications of its publication.

To be fair, Matty ends up doing the absolute right thing in choosing to face his trangressions and answer for the crimes in which he has become embroiled, wittingly or unwittingly. Poignance abounds from the story’s conslusion as the reader considers a new New York, one that emerges from the back end of the Second American Civil War to prominence and beauty. Despite the twisted journey of Matty Roth, DMZ is still ultimately all about New York in its great melting pot parable that mirrors the United States as a whole. So satisfying are small stories of New York’s people like the DMZ’s powerless communities growing vegetables on roofs, a grafitti artist struggling to make art in a war zone, and even the special operations detachment that left the U.S. Army rather than engage civilians who live in and guard Central Park. All of these stories contribute to an unshaken sliver of positivity that it is not yet too late for the people of the DMZ... and maybe for all of us too.

[ranseiuniter-archive]

headcanon; Finally I’m going to expand on the concept of forced links like I said I would... what, like, two months ago? Icon is irrelevant beyond the fact that it’s one of the few that I have with both a warrior and pokémon in it, and also it makes me laugh.

So, forced links are, to some degree, dependent on the same factors as a normal, healthy link--you do have to be at least capable of linking with the pokémon in question. i.e., a warriors with a normal- or fighting-type affinity would probably not be able to forcibly link with a ghost type, because that pkmn just isn’t compatible with them to begin with. However, as long as it’s possible, that’s about where the “requirements” end. Link percentages and “perfect links”... don’t quite apply to forced links, but we’ll get into that.

As I’ve explained in previous headcanons, linking is, in simplest terms, the process of establishing an mental bond between warrior and pokémon. And while this seems like a pretty fair and balanced way to make sure people treat their pokémon decently - I mean, your fucking brains are connected, you’d think being aware of and even being able to Feel anguish and suffering would cut that shit out pretty easy even for the shittiest of people because it’s going to kick them in the ass too - leave it to Ransei to figure out how to fuck this up anyway. 

In short, all links do require a certain amount of willpower to establish. Holding multiple links is extremely difficult and most people can maintain maybe three or four at most. (Hiroko and Hideyoshi at Rank III have the highest maximum pokémon capacity, each at eight.) In order to create and maintain a link a level of mental and emotional fortitude is needed, and it has to be projected, in a sense - not unlike Aura, if you want to think of it that way. In a healthy link, a warrior asserts their desire to befriend (or at least act as an ally to) the pokémon in question. However, this isn’t the only way to form a link.

There are cases in which a warrior can assert their own will - feelings of dominance and control - over a pokémon and essentially forcibly create a link. Naturally, of course, this is not an easy task--once a forced link is created, it cannot grow stronger, and links do have to be maintained to some degree - simply being around one’s pokémon is good enough for a standard link, as both members of the link are willing and not actively resisting the bond between them. In a forced link, however, it is not at all uncommon for the pokémon to fight back against it, which is extremely mentally taxing for both parties. Effects can include paranoia, sleeplessness, violent outbursts, and a whole realm of other crappy shit.

Forced links are extremely volatile, meaning a warrior ability is more likely to be something very dangerous, physically stressful, and possibly even damaging if engaged in the wrong way. “So why the fuck would anyone go to the trouble?” Well--a successful forced link has the potential to be extremely powerful. Essentially, if you have the mental fortitude for it, you can get a perfect link with anything. And given how goddamn strong a perfect link is in comparison to some normal old 20% link, this is an extremely promising concept. Rather than bonding with a pokémon and taking all that time to get to know them, you essentially have maximum power at your fingertips. And we all know Ransei is The Worst(TM), so it’s obvious why that’s of interest to anyone. 

And although it sounds like only the most Evil of Evil people would do such a thing, it’s... sadly, very much not uncommon in Ransei. Highly discouraged? Yes. (Many kingdoms have folklore about people going “feral” from forced links - [presumably] exaggerated stories in which the warriors in question develop far more pokémon-like traits from their link in a very violent, sudden manner, not unlike warrior evolution, but also kind of lose their minds.) However, especially for the desperate, the idea isn’t without it’s appeal when there doesn’t seem to be any better choice. Consider the following: your kingdom is backed into a corner, faced with invasion, and you’re lacking the power to fight back. If you were to force a link with a particularly powerful pokémon, you now have at least enough strength to defend your loved ones, if nothing else. Particularly loyal soldiers and retainers have done the same in various kingdoms throughout history to defend their home kingdoms in a final blaze of glory as well. In most cases, it’s not about ambition so much as it is a desperate attempt to rise from otherwise apparent powerlessness. 

Granted, forced links are fucking dangerous, not only to the warriors involved, but to the people around them due to the mental effects (anger, violence, etc.) and the explosive nature of their abilities. Not to mention that their pokémon aren’t going to be much better off in the mental department - you can think of them as almost akin to shadow pokémon to some degree, at least in terms of behavior. You get the idea. So not only are they illegal, but some kingdoms have particularly harsh punishments for them. In Cragspur, for example, the punishment for soldiers who create forced links is execution. You know, if they don’t commit seppuku first, or die before they can actually be persecuted for it. The former is a sadly very common case for those who attempt it out of desperation. 

tl;dr Ransei is depressing.

[comingupforblair]

Franchises that are either panned or hit or miss like PotC are almost never heavily criticized and the fandoms are rarely berated for liking them. I'm not quite sure why the DCEU fandom has been the butt of all the rude jokes. I can't help but think most of the bitterness comes from MCU stans who think the success of anything DC is bad news for Marvel, but I could be wrong. Any ideas yourself?

I really don’t know. I wish I could say. I think a big part of it has to do with the frankly selfish attitude of Marvel fans who have acted offended at DC’s mere existence over the last four years and frequently wanted Them to just give up and not make films anymore, even as They claim that the films could never hope to reach the same level as Theirs. 

Zack Snyder’s involvement also has a lot to do with it as I can’t think of another director who has ever invoked such vitriolic hatred. Not even scumbags like Woody Allen or David O Russell get anywhere near as much shit. He’s an easy target and I remain convinced that people wouldn’t be anywhere near as harsh on these films if any other creator was behind Them. If everything was exactly the same but done by George Miller, for example, people would be a lot more receptive or just indifferent. I can’t imagine people going out of Their way to harass him after a personal tragedy or anything like that.

There’s also the fact that the DCEU has happened in the shadow of the MCU which has been held up as some great success story and whose way of doing so has become a blueprint to surefire success, a plan a refusal to follow to the letter is seen as the height of foolishness. Such a narrative completely ignores the context in which DCEU films exist (They needed solo films for Thor and Captain America because most people in the general public didn’t know the first fucking thing about Them, about which the same cannot be said of Batman or The Flash, and the same people saying this have shown a tendency to immediately reverse Their position and cry ‘’plagiarism’’ the second any similarities are noticed). 

There is also the fact that the DCEU has had, since the very beginning, a very different goal from Marvel and pursued it and people seem unable to fathom that a company wouldn’t want to follow the same path that has worked out so well for another. There’s also the fact the MCU films have made fun and enjoyment not only Their dominant goal but increasingly Their only one, even at the cost of potentially powerful drama. The MCU films made a huge point of lampshading the inherent silliness of Their films at every turn while the DCEU has played it all completely seriously and people have gotten used to knowingly silly films.

This point has been disputed by some using Logan as an example of the fact that darker superhero films and ones not from the MCU can do well too but eI see the positive reception of it as another example of a degree of bias against Zack Snyder, especially as the elements that people cited as more mature (The increased swearing and frankly jaw-dropping levels of violence) are exactly the frankly immature examples of maturity that people accuse his films of being rife with, which is not to say that Logan didn’t deserve it’s success or acclaim.

The DCEU has also been something of a victim of past successes. The Nolan films are an obvious source but the animated films and shows also count and the bias against Snyder can be seen there too. People will absolutely crucify him for elements that were just as, if not more, present in those adaptations (The Jesus symbolism being one of the more prominent examples as it was much more overt in Richard Donner’s film). 

The absolute worst example of this has to be the handling of Superman which is almost invariably compared to the Christopher Reeve version, with the latter held up as how the character not only should but MUST be portrayed and Snyder’s version having his flaws exaggerated to a staggering degree to make the comparison more loaded against him. Such a statement of course ignores the fact that Superman has changed massively since 1978, with the portrayal of him there already being a bit outdated by that time and something of a relic from the silver age. 

Superman is unique among fictional characters in that there has only been one major portrayal of him that people can flock to and venerate and hold up as an example of the character. Every other major character (James Bond, Batman, Sherlock Holmes) has been allowed to evolve with the times but Superman has stayed frozen in 1978 and that’s exactly where purists want him to stay and it’s easier to believe that Zack Snyder just doesn’t understand Superman or actively hates him than it is to concede that maybe They need to accept another version, one that will appeal to people who are unused to seeing a version of the character that They can relate to. Add in Chris Reeve’s real-life tragedy, activism, premature death and deserved idolization and it’s no surprise at all that people have such a hard time letting go.

This is another area in which Marvel has had a distinct advantage as They have worked predominantly with characters that most of the general public don’t know and that has given Them license to change things as They wish, both major and minor. People don’t know how much Thor has been depowered or that Iron Man isn’t anywhere near as sarcastic in the comics. They don’t know how different Black Widow’s back story is or of the huge changes made to characters and, as such, They don’t get angry about Them. 

A perfect example of this would be the way Marvel wrote Wilson Fisk/Kingpin in Daredevil as being inarticulate, painfully shy and heavily implied to be on the Autism spectrum, all of which radically contrasts his portrayal in the comics. Warner Bros do something similar with Lex Luthor (Making the character’s personality different in some minor ways while still keeping the core and essence of Them completely intact, in this case emphasizing his immaturity and making Lex more over the top and heavily implied to suffer from some kind of untreated disorder in addition to at least some of his behavior being attributed to his horribly abusive childhood) and people raise holy hell and accuse it of having nothing in common with the original, which is usually just the version They have in Their heads from other portrayals.

There are more factors and I’m open to hearing theories from others as to why the DCEU has received such a disproportionately harsh and critical reception compared to other franchises. I know there are people reading this who are probably sneering and saying something along the lines of ‘’Maybe it’s because the films are just BAD. Did you ever think of that?” and I’m sure I’ll hear from Them soon enough and I won’t pretend that there aren’t legitimate criticisms of these films, both specific and to the universe as a whole, nor will I tell anyone They’re wrong if They politely and respectfully decide that it just isn’t Their thing.

But I think most reasonable people, even people who are lukewarm about these films or outright don’t like Them, can concede that They certainly aren’t deserving of such an extraordinarily nasty reception as They have been given.

[imaginesharrypotter]

Being Lily Evans' younger sister? I absolutely adore your work and can't wait for more imagines xxx

A/N: This is ridiculously long, I don’t know what happened. I’m going with Lily’s sister is two years younger. So when the reader starts at Hogwarts, Lily will be in her third year.

You’ve gotta have a flower name: Daisy, Rose, Jasmine, Iris, etc. Take your pick

If you’re a Muggle:

When Lily shows you her magical abilities, you try hopelessly to copy her

She comforts you when you realise you can’t do the same things she can, and promises she’ll always be there to do magic for you

Like Petunia, you’re jealous of her magic

Unlike Petunia, your love is greater than your envy and you don’t let it ruin your relationship with your sister 

Lily’s friendship with Snape creeps you out, and you hate when he hangs around. Either he looks through you like you don’t even exist, or he ridicules you for not having magic

You write letters to each other every week. You worry yours are a little dull in comparison to hers, but she never complains.

The house seems so quiet when Lily’s away at school

You can’t wait for her to come home during the holidays. It’s like she brings the sun back with her

Lily tells you about some arrogant sod called James Potter. Not even two years later, and she’s introducing him to you as her boyfriend. It’s confusing and makes it glaringly obvious how much of your sister’s life you’re missing when she’s away

You try and keep the peace between your sisters, but it’s not easy

You’re the maid of honour at her wedding, and do your best to make up for Petunia not being there. You barely know anyone else there, but they all do their best to make you comfortable. It’s still a little awkward and overwhelming, and you’re happy when it’s over

Lily never tells you about the danger she’s in, and you only find out after her death

You go to the funeral alone; your parents are already dead and Petunia wouldn’t attend. You don’t talk to anyone and go home to cry alone

Dumbledore leaves Harry with you. You’re hopelessly unprepared to raise a child, being less than 21 years old and completely inexperienced. The only reason you agree instead of trying to find someone who could raise Harry the way he needs to be raised is because of the blood protection spell. There’s no way in hell you’d let Petunia raise him, knowing how she, her awful husband and spoilt child would treat him

Well, that’s the main reason. The other is his eyes, it’s just like looking into Lily’s. They remind you that he’s all that’s left of your sister and knowing that she sacrificed herself to keep him safe, you’ll do everything in your power to protect him too

Things are hard at first, but Harry is a fundamentally good kid and you adore him. He grows up strong and happy, knowing he’s loved. 

Maybe you get married to a Muggle, maybe you get married to a wizard/witch. Maybe you don’t get married at all. The one thing that never changes is that Harry is 100% your priority, 100% of the time, and he’s always going to be the most important person in your life

You cry when he first goes to Hogwarts, and spend the next 7 years constantly worried about him. He sure gives you enough reasons to be

Making sure Harry always knows how proud his mother would be of him

If you’re a witch: 

Lily’s so excited when you show her that you can do the same things she does 

Petunia’s jealousy is even worse. You try not to, but sometimes you and Lily end up accidentally excluding her. 

When Lily first goes to Hogwarts, you start counting down the days until you get to go too

It’s the greatest day when you finally get to board the train as well. Lily’s incredibly excited to show you around the castle and to introduce you to all the people she’s being telling you about 

She’s so proud watching you be sorted, she doesn’t care what house you’re in

Lily is the only thing that makes your homesickness better. You miss your parents and old friends. You even miss Petunia, even though she’s horrid to you most of the time

All of the Professors know you are ‘Miss Evans’ sister’ at first. It’s a little intimidating because they expect so much of you. Slughorn, in particular, is interested to see if you’re anything like your sister. 

You do manage to make your own reputation and step out of Lily’s shadow soon enough.

Even if James and Sirius insist on calling you ‘Baby-Evans’, ‘Evans Jr.’ or the like

Lily’s always there to help you if you’re struggling with a spell, a potion, or anything at all

You always make time for each other, and the two of you are closer than you’ve been in years now that you’re both going to Hogwarts

Snape creeps you out. He just barely tolerates you when Lily is around, ignores you when she’s not. He says nothing when his friends call you a Mudblood. You hate him for it.

You hate him even more after he calls Lily a Mudblood, and though you’d never tell her, you’re happy that it’s the end of their friendship

You maybe have a little crush on one of the Marauders. 

You do agree with your sister that sometimes they go too far, but they are actually quite funny and you’d kill for a friendship like theirs.

Watching her fall in love with James is honestly the most entertaining thing. Teasing her about it is so easy and you almost feel bad for taking advantage of the obvious target. Almost. 

Watching her introduce James to Petunia and Vernon is like watching a train wreck in slow motion. You never bring it up again and pretend it never happened at all

You’re the maid of honour at her wedding. The whole day is filled with so much love and magic, and you have the greatest time.

You tease both James and Lily, cementing your future role as annoying little sister to the both of them.

Sirius teases you, cementing his future role as the annoying big brother you never asked for. He does let you graduate from ‘Evans Jr.’ to just plain ‘Evans’ though

It’s the oddest feeling getting on the Hogwarts Express the year after Lily graduates, knowing she isn’t somewhere nearby on the train

You still have all your friends at Hogwarts, but it’s lonely being the only Evans in the castle

Whenever something interesting happens you make a mental note to tell Lily about it at dinner, forgetting she won’t be there

You’re so happy to see her during the holidays that you practically launch yourself at her

You’re really worried when she tells you she’s joined the Order

Obviously, you agree with the goals of the Order, but you really don’t want Lily to get hurt

James talks to you privately and assures you he’d never let anything happen to Lily. Then Remus does the same thing. And so does Sirius. You’ve kind of gotten the point by the time Peter talks to you. 

You still worry, but you trust the Marauders will do anything they can to keep her (and each other) safe.

You’re one of the first people she tells about the pregnancy

Lily goes into hiding during your last year at Hogwarts. 

You join the Order as soon as you graduate to try and protect her, James and your unborn nephew 

It’s Lily’s turn to worry about you. The worst thing is that she can never come with you on missions, she has to trust Sirius, Remus and Peter to look after you. The three try their best, but you still come back injured more often than Lily can stand

Meeting baby Harry for the first time is incredibly emotional and you love him the second you hold him

You and Sirius are the only guests at Harry’s christening. In your opinion, Sirius is the perfect choice to be his godfather. If there’s anything the last few years have shown you it’s that there’s nothing Sirius won’t do for James and Lily

It makes perfect sense to you that Peter actually becomes the Secret Keeper, while you and Sirius, the more obvious choices, act as red herrings. 

A week later, Lily and James are dead and you’ve never regretted anything more

When you arrive at Godric’s Hollow you find Sirius and Hagrid arguing about Harry

“Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I’ll look after him.’

“Dumbledore said I’m ter take Harry to his aunt.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that she’s already here then.”

You persuade Hagrid to give Harry to you, instead of taking him to Petunia’s as Dumbledore requested. Dumbledore has no right to decide what’s best for your nephew

You stop Sirius going after Peter alone, convincing him you’ll need his and Remus’ help with Harry.

The four of you go to Lily and James’ funeral together. It’s still a horrible, horrible day, but it’s easier having each other to lean on for comfort

(I’ll save raising Harry with Sirius and Remus for another involve; this is already too long)

You are constantly worried about Harry. If he ever needs anything, you’re only an owl away

You die during the Battle of Hogwarts (as a parental figure of Harry, it is your duty)

Before you even have time to process your death your sister is crushing you in a hug, thanking you for everything you’ve done for Harry

Even thought it’s been 16 years since you last talked to her, you fall back into the role of little sister like you no time has passed at all

Involves Masterlist: (x)

-Kerrie

[choicesjunkie]

Spoilers for TRR Book 2, Chapter 9

Okay, I decided to deviate a bit from the in game dialogue. I still keep to it for the most part, but I add things in. We’ll see how it goes? Also, talking to the Prince is so much more painful when I’m trying to get more into the MC’s head. Like, noooo, I’m so sorry! T.T I say as I make the decisions leading to this whole thing… >.>

When Drake and I made our way into the speakeasy, we saw a bunch of finely dressed noblemen sitting around, talking, eating steak and drinking. I could smell the odor of cigar smoke, but it wasn’t overpowering, which was nice. This place was pretty much where I expected Drake would hang out all the time if he were a nobleman.  

“Wow…” I glanced over at Drake as he breathed the word, a look of awe on his face.

“Drake,” I said as we both stopped to take it all in. “This must be everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Well, not everything,” He said, eyeing me pointedly. “But we’re checking a lot of boxes.” Drake said, looking longingly at the bar. “A lot of boxes,” He murmured under his breath.

“Bet you’re regretting ditching so many events, eh?” I asked, nudging him with my elbow playfully.

“Hah.” It was a short, sharp sound, and no doubt intended to be sarcastic. It was quite at odds with the wistful look on his face. “Maybe, if they were all in places like this.”

“Sorry I’m keeping you from being able to enjoy it,” I said, rubbing one arm uncomfortably. Not only do I tease him, and push him to betray his best friend, now I’m the reason he can’t enjoy what is effectively his dream event. Boy, am I a catch.

I really needed to stop moping in my internal dialogue. Keep focus on the mission!

“Don’t sweat it.” His tone was light. “It’s usually the company that makes the party, and you’re better company than almost everyone here.”

That made me feel all melty inside, and I couldn’t hold back a small smile.

“But…” He trailed off, eyes going back to the bar. “Wouldn’t it help us blend in if we got a couple glasses of whiskey?”

“Fair enough.” We grinned at each other.

Drake strolled over to the bar and got us each a glass and walked back over to me, where I was attempting to stay out of sight. He handed my drink over, and then took a sip of his own.

“I think this whiskey is older than I am.” He said, his eyes lighting up. “And probably costs more than everything I own.” He chuckled a bit sadly at that last part.

I raised my glass and took a taste. It was rich and smoky tasting. For effect, I smacked my lips quietly a couple of times.

“What do you think?” Drake asked, taking another sip.

“It’s amazing.” I’d never tasted this quality of alcohol before. If I thought the wines were impressive, they had nothing on this whiskey.

“Enjoy it. Whiskey like this comes along once in a lifetime.” I decided not to point out that this wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t avoid royal functions like the plague, because I don’t always have to be a pain. Instead, I sipped the whiskey along with him as we both noticed Maxwell chowing down on a steak across the room.

“Mmmmmm! Man, this steak is so good.” Maxwell said without quite finishing his mouthful of food. Bertrand would be appalled. At least he was using the correct fork.

“There he is,” Drake rolled his eyes. I would have to find a good time to inform him that if he did that too often, his eyes would fall out of his head. That would be a damn shame, as I rather enjoy looking into them. “I’ll go remind Agent Breakdance that he has a job to do.”

I nodded and ducked into a shadowy corner as Drake walked to Maxwell and grabbed him. I couldn’t help smiling. Though, I had a nagging feeling of anxiety working its way through my belly and for some reason, I couldn’t remember why…

“I don’t recall seeing you on the guest list.” Liam’s warm, gentle voice came from directly behind me, and it was like a shot of adrenaline to my system. That’s right, there was a high likelihood of running into the man I’d left everything behind to come chasing after. The man who made me feel like a character out of a romance novel.

The man my heart is betraying, I thought with a sickening pang of guilt.

“Liam!” I said, trying to hide the anxiety in my voice. I turned to look at his smiling face, and my anxiety melted away. There was just something about him that made everything feel okay. It didn’t matter that I was feeling uncertainty, because he was steady enough for both of us. Why was it so easy for me to forget that when I wasn’t standing with him?

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you turn up here.” He said, his eyes dancing with happiness, like seeing me had made his whole day. God, I wanted to be worthy of that look.

“Oh?” I asked, trying to keep an air of mystery, though I wasn’t sure why he wouldn’t be surprised to find me at his bachelor party.

“I’ve learned to never doubt what you’re capable of.” He said, stepping closer. It was as though with every inch he closed between us, the less I was able to think straight. He encompassed my every thought, and my body responded to him on a fundamental level.

It was official that I was the worst, but I couldn’t stop the words from slipping out of my mouth while I smiled like a fool at his closeness.

“Liam, I’d scale a volcano if it meant seeing you.”

“I’m sure you would.” Liam said as he reached out and touched my cheek. The absolutely loving smile that lit his face set my heart on fire, and the certainty with which he spoke nearly broke me. But both paled in comparison to the electricity I felt when he touched me. It overpowered everything else completely. It was like touching a live wire, but, you know, in a nice way. Why would I ever need anyone else but him? Drake didn’t seem willing to fight for me, so why was this even a choice? I decided that there had to be a way to reconcile the feelings that had been steadily developing for Drake. He clearly didn’t want me all that badly, and what I felt for Liam, I was pretty sure was love. Despite never having really known what it felt like before, I couldn’t imagine anything more powerful than how he made me feel when I was with him. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? When I was with him. Could it be love if I was so incapable of controlling myself when we were apart?

“As glad as I am to see you, I take it you’re not only here for my company.” He said it with a grin, and his voice cut me off from my train of thought. I paused for a moment, dazed, but pulled myself together quickly.

“Unfortunately, no.” Very unfortunate, really.

“Can I be of any assistance?” He asked, taking on a more business-like tone. He was eager to get everything figured out, and frustrated that he couldn’t do more. I was sure that it was even more frustrating having to pretend to be in love with Madeleine while I put myself in harms way.

“Thank you, Liam, but it’s probably safer if it looks like you’re not involved.” I said, noting his look of disappointment. “At least for now.” I took his hand in mine briefly, but let it go just in case someone saw us. Not that standing in a shadowing corner during his bachelor party wasn’t suspicious in the first place, but why push it?

“I understand. Although, on another note…” Liam leaned closer and cleared his throat. I fought the urge to kiss him. Damn it, Mayene, stay focused! “While you’re unexpectedly in my presence, I have a proposal for you.”

My breath caught on the word ‘proposal’, but I knew it wasn’t anything like that.

“There’s a particularly magical spot along the Seine, a bridge with columns crowned by golden statues. I’ve been watching it for the past couple of days, and around midnight, it’s completely deserted. If you’re have me, I’d like to take you away from all of this… from our enemies and the plots against us… and just have an evening with you in the heart of Paris.” He spoke excitedly by the end, and the prospect of having an evening together, just the two of us, was very tempting. My brain needed some recalibrating, and some alone time together sounded like exactly what I needed.

“Won’t you be tired after all of this?” I asked, instead of immediately agreeing like I wanted to.

“After all of this, time with you will be like air to a drowning man. Which is the say that nothing would keep me from you. As selfish as that may sound.” He said earnestly, and I wasn’t sure if he was aware of just how much his poetic way of speaking was melting me into a metaphorical puddle. If he was selfish, I didn’t even know what that would make me.

“King Liam, you are quite the charmer. You always know just what to say to make me forget everything else around us.”

“I should hope so, my Lady,” He smiled mischievously. “I hope that ability never leaves me, as a King’s work is never finished.” He finished with an attempt at a dramatic sigh, which was ruined by his inability to stop smiling.

“Well, even kings need time to relax once in a while.” I said imperiously. After a moment of thought, I added, “No one can spend every moment worrying unless they’re Bertrand.”

“You’re right,” Liam said, stifling a chuckle.

“When am I not?” I asked, raising my chin and turning my head in some semblance of a haughty pose. Liam couldn’t quite keep the chuckle stifled.

“In the spirit of relaxation, then, meet me later tonight if you’d like to enjoy a classic Parisian evening by the river.”

“And what would we be doing, exactly?” I asked, trying to think of what there could possibly be to do in the middle of the night, besides… Well, best not to think of that right now. I tried to hide my blush. Thank goodness we were in the shadows.

“Consider it a… midnight street tour.” Liam said after a moment of thought. “We’ll have Paris all to ourselves while the rest of the city sleeps.”

“That sounds amazing.” I said, feeling warm at the thought of walking around Paris alone with Liam.

“I’m glad you think so. I hope I’ll see you later, then.”

I was about to answer when two noblemen approached us. Liam and I made some small talk with them, trying to play off my presence at the closed event until Drake spotted me and waved me over.

“Well, it looks like I’m needed over by the drinks, have a good time.” I said, and as I started to head over to Drake, who was trying to look like he hadn’t been watching the whole interaction, Liam leaned over and whispered, “Good luck.” I smiled and walked to the bar, ready to start the next phase of the mission.

[childrenofathoria-rp-blog]

◆Out Of Character Information◆

Name/Age: Natalia, but you can call me Nat. I think I’m going to be the youngest member in this group, I’m 19 years old. Don’t underestimate me though, my smut skills are 10/10. Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: GMT Desired Character: Ivar Callum

◆Character Information◆

(1)  What pronouns will your character be using? Would you like to list their sexuality at this time?: He/Him. Ivar will be heterosexual, although he’d still flirt with everything that has two legs.

(2)  Any changes or comments? Nothing!

(3) Why this character? I absolutely enjoy characters that offer me challenges, even if the character proves to be the challenge itself. I consider Ivar to be such a challenge (because let’s face it, his personality is so wily) and would love to get a deeper insight into who he is and how his mind works. He basically fits right into the character trope that I usually go for and it’s been a while since I got to write it. People like Ivar always prove to have such depth to them, more than one might assume upon first glance. In a nutshell: Complex muses for the win!

(4) Interpret this character: He’s basically Littlefinger’s much more handsome and younger brother. Stupid sense of humor aside, here’s what I think about Ivar Callum:

His astrology sign is definitely Scorpio. Why? Allow me to quote right away from an astrology website that I found earlier today: 

↪ “The scorpion — a small but dangerous animal, invoking both fear and fascination. It does not attack with ferociousness like a tiger or bear, but instead dances around its enemy, drawing their attention to its pincers while it slowly draws near enough for the fatal strike from its tail.”

In a metaphorical sense, I think that this represents who Ivar, Lieutenant of The Emerald Hand, really is. I will elaborate on this some more.  

This underdog witch is a man of smarmy smiles. He carries himself with arrogance and confidence. You will never see him in a bad mood. Yet beneath this easy-going, content veil there is sheer determination, and, if truly provoked, biting malignity. He is certainly not wise, but cunning and perspicacious. Jealous, greedy and competetive by nature, if you cross him; you’re done. If Ivar dislikes you, he won’t show it plainly for everyone to see. He will make use of his, over the years well-constructed, façade to charm you, entice you. He will get close to you and make you feel as though you are the most precious individual alive. And when you least expect it, he will stab you in the back with poisonous vigor. He is fascinating as he is intimidating. This is why I made the comparison with the scorpion; although he looks small and seemingly harmless, he’s quite the contrary and his bite nothing but deadly. 

Past musings: Before Ivar joined Aerion thus became a member of the Emerald Hand, he was probably a very lost and hateful kid. Resentment and disappointment were eating him up from the inside out. Getting shunned by his Coven must have been an incredible blow to his psyche; therefore, when he met that robber who wanted to steal his gems, everything that weighed heavy on his mind exploded like a bomb.

Until this point, he was made to believe that he was a worthless piece of shit. When Aerion found him however, everything changed. He gave him a place to stay and belong. Ivar probably looked up to Aerion in a way and worked his ass off to prove that welcoming him into the Emerald Hand was a good decision. Along the way, Ivar became arrogant because he was good at what he did. He became greedy and hungry for power, caring for no one except himself.

In the end, I think that this was what truly caused for Aerion to choose Jiaying over Ivar; he was a selfish bastard who cared little for others and always strived for more, which would explain why the majority of the Guild stood by Jiaying despite all the controversy regarding their new rank.

Present musings: Ivar feels like Aerion betrayed him. Despite all his efforts in the past, he wasn’t rewarded with the title of Hermes and he resents Aerion for it. He definitely doesn’t understand his decision, which is why he can’t accept  Jiaying as the new leader. As a result, he wants to force his way to the top via (sure as hell) unfair means.

He will probably play around with the fact that ever since she became Tyche, bad luck is befalling the clan (+ with the fact that she’s sending some of her own people to jail). He will plot some evil schemes, rest assured, sprinkle some salt into Jiaying’s wounds (that he will cause) and add fuel to the fire.

His magic: Ivar is such a pitiful witch. Although he’s now aware that he is gifted with magic, he actually doesn’t know what kind of magic nor how to control and wield it. I imagine him to sometimes secretly sneak out into the woods to try his luck, but he always fails to feel any magic. I want him to seek out all kinds of other witches for this purpose, leaning more towards those who dabble in the dark sort of arts. I’m still unsure about whether to headcanon it, but what if Ivar’s Coven was well aware of the fact that he was gifted with magic? And we’re not talking about healing magic here, but dangerous magic? Maybe there was a fortune telling that predicted that he could/would cause havoc with it and in order to prevent this, his Coven sealed his powers away? 

This would explain why he was such a hateful kid in the past, because he grew up in a negative setting with people who feared and turned away from him. I’ve been having these thoughts and so far they’re entertaining.

Eventually, I want him to be able to control his magic, but it will be a long process until we get there. I will headcanon that he recently has bad sessions of depression because of this whole magic topic. He becomes unnecessarily angry during these sessions and usually locks himself away in his home. This man got a reputation to keep.

Interactions: Ivar doesn’t discriminate: Wether man or woman, werewolf or vampire; he is ready to steal from all. Ever since Aerion died, he has no one to confide in anymore and rejects every person who tries to understand him. He lies whenever possible and is never honest, not even with himself. He is a lonely creature who forgot how it feels like to rely on someone else and he’s generally afraid to show weakness. He sees weakness in everything that could limit his freedom and involves showing emotions. Respectively he’s never settled down with someone before and has plenty of lovers to keep him warm at night.

He doesn’t care about the Athor family, nor about Athoria as a whole. According to him, it might as well burn; as long as Ivar stays unscathed and surrounded by treasures, he will manage. He will survive.

Theme Song: CLICK ME. I’m joking here. Or not.

◆ Interview Questions ◆

(1) Question One: Why do you think you’re better fit to lead The Emerald Hand?

“This questions sounds like you’re assuming that Jiaying and I were equals from the start.” Ivar snickers. It’s a low, dark sound. Amusement glimmers in the depths of his eyes. Lie or truth, you couldn’t tell. Suddely, the smile on his lips drops and the atmosphere around him becomes heavy. “Our Tyche is weak. Weakness in a leader doesn’t bode well. She has a soft heart, believes that she can unite this guild of thieves. Speaks of trust. Loyalty.” He plays with a coin in his hand and eventually holds it up. “Our people are greedy. Selfish. Nobody needs loyalty in this business. You can’t take it for granted. Betrayal is a part of this lifestyle and is as sure to happen as day follows night. I will teach her that lesson.” He slams the coin on the desk. “Wealth is power. Friendships are useless. And nobody takes what is mine. No one.”  

(2) Question Two: Have you reached out to any mages yet about discovering your magic? How do you keep this a secret from your guild?

”Not yet. Although I have made a list of some mages and witches from all over Athoria, it is not time yet. They aren’t the right ones.” A scowl sits between his brows. “I’m always watching out for rumors. Travel the countries. It’s frustrating. It feels like I’m suffocating underneath a current of water. Whenever I’m trying to break through the surface, I’m getting pulled away from it. My guild doesn’t know anything about this, of course. Sometimes I take advantage of heists. Make them search for an artifacts that belong to certain witches. Nothing comes without a price in this world, I need to be prepared for everything.”

◆Writing Sample:◆

(In this sample, Ivar went on a heist alone. His targets were pretty clever asshats however and managed it to slip some drugs into his system. I tried to describe how he dealt with that situation. Yeah, my creativity is about as colorful as a unicorn fart. Fun fact: I listened to this while writing my sample. Enjoy.)

It was different to the other times in which he’d sunk to despairing wretchedness. Fear did not come easily to Ivar. He was a man of damnation, a man of almost clichéed self-importance and indestructibility; what did he, one of the deadliest assassins in Athoria, need to fear?

N o t h i n g.

That would have been the correct assertion. It should have been the sole notion to warp its coils into his finely tuned mind. But the drug had wrought him into confusion. It had overridden all carefully placed internalisms to render him more vulnerable than he would ever loathe to be – and perhaps therein was his innermost fear: vulnerability. But it was not this that twisted the greatest knife of all into his stone heart; notions of weakness had irked him at other times, after all – they were not entirely alien, though this time he could not toss them aside.

This was the culmination of all his dreads: shadows skirted from his path, leaving nothing but a blinding light that slashed his eyes to shreds; every touch upon his skin launching shocks into his bones; his head was pounding, his ears unable to distinguish between the bastards’ riotous voices and the sounds of pins dropping miles afar. He desired rest, and yet there was no peace to be had, no place to pause and allow his rampaging senses to settle. It was akin to his rare despairing bouts, and yet it was far more – more real, more threatening, more inconsolable. When such fits occurred, he would take himself to private rooms within his own home, remaining there for days until they passed and he could bear to leave the taunt of death to return to be amongst the living.

Assailants surrounded him, never-leaving and untouchable. Hallucinations brought him gods of far greater ability, witches with infuriating protections, and humans – humans who could withstand his assaults. Yet in-between his imaginary battles, his fists would find those who truly existed, delivering blows that appeared to leave no bruises and bites that did not seem to pierce the flesh. Fear poured from them in droves, as they felt his swift attack and attributed it to the horrors of their own existence.

It was delicious.

Exquisite and sharp, he felt the drug’s thrill at last, coursing past his personal terrors to pulse within his veins. It was adrenaline and aphrodisiac. It was pain and it was pleasure. The more he fought to pursue each plaguing nightmare, the more he seized each blissful fearful spark. And then, as time passed and he began to see familiar, forgotten faces in the crowds, he found that the flames existed in himself, as well.

Sweet terror.

He had always loved the scent of victory.

[michaelward0]

V for Vendetta - An open letter to our legislators Re: the DOJ and the FBI

People are comparing the Trump/Russia collusion investigation to all the wrong things with the Holocaust, slavery, 911, etc., etc. The more appropriate comparison is the era of Eisenhower, Hoover, Joe McCarthy and the House Unamerican Activities Committee. Their “investigations” ruined the lives of many Americans for political reasons. Both are terrifying examples of government gone horribly wrong. Our forefathers KNEW what shape our government would eventually take. They KNEW that government grows and becomes unresponsive. They KNEW that power corrupts. That is what we have today, a corrupt, unresponsive government. Our forefathers specifically included the 2nd amendment to the bill of rights TO DEFEND US FROM THE GOVERNMENT. The recent activities by the FBI/DOJ and the CIA, State Department, The Clintons and President Obama have proven BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT why Americans not only have the RIGHT to be armed EFFECTIVELY but the necessity to do so. I have never been so concerned about our government. It seems that daily We, the People are reminded that the government doesn’t care about us at any time except election time. In the movie “V for Vendetta” an anti hero fights a government gone mad. He takes it to extreme measures including violence. It is easy to see how one can come to the conclusion that THAT is the only hope for the future given that high ranking members of the FBI and DOJ have been PROVEN to have tried to swing at least one election using illegal tactics. Given that they answer to NO ONE it is really impossible to know just how many elections, both domestic and foreign, they HAVE manipulated. Could anyone really be blamed for taking matters into their own hands when members of our government have been proven to be both above the law and immune to justice? The only reason this ever came out is because We, the People rejected more Clinton Crime Cartel leadership. Had Hillary won in 2016 this would have all been buried and anyone who tried to expose it would be silenced. My dear legislators, it is IMPERATIVE that you act now, before all hope is lost. You MUST give us full transparency on the Uranium One deal, including all the pertinent emails for those involved. I am certain that most of the resist Trump movement in DC and in the press has to do with the Clintons and the people they involved in the deal to sell out our country. They were either DIRECTLY involved in Clinton crimes, or they became ensnared in Clinton cover ups or they were just Clinton defenders who failed to realize the breadth and depth of Clinton Crime Cartel corruption and are in too deep to confess now. What happened to William Campbell’s testimony? How is a DISCREDITED FBI op, Christopher Steele, given credence and William Campbell, a true blue FBI agent with an impeccable record silenced? Is there a BETTER example of bias? Unfortunately I think there is and I must be the only one that noticed. During open hearing testimony Peter Strzok testified that HE was the one that decided which of his communications he would turn over to the FBI. My mind is still reeling. Once again the FBI investigates ITSELF!!! SERIOUSLY??? This is EXACTLY akin to allowing Hillary Clinton and the DNC to decide what evidence to turn over to the FBI. If allowing a suspect to determine WHICH records they turn over to investigators isn’t indicative of a HUGE bias, if not a criminal conspiracy, then I can’t conceive what is. But I have AN EVEN BETTER EXAMPLE of bias in the texts that Strzok DID allow to become public. Strzok texted “I can’t imagine anything worse than there being ‘no there there’” in regards to president Trump colluding with Russia. Never have more damning words been typed. Shouldn’t the proper worst case scenario for a TRUE AMERICAN FBI AGENT ACTUALLY DOING THEIR JOB be “I can’t imagine anything worse that Trump ACTUALLY colluding with Russia?” No one questioned this statement. Clearly Strzok suborned his love of country and honor and duty to his political agenda if he even had that thought. BUT that isn’t the end of it. Strzok claimed that he was able to separate his dislike of Trump from his job. Even if that highly unlikely statement is true here is a question for his defenders. Did you ever see a coach give a pep talk? Do you know what the purpose is? The purpose of a pep talk is to motivate people to go above and beyond themselves and sometimes the law. Maybe, just maybe, Strzok WAS able to keep his animus separate from his investigation, but does anyone truly believe that his animus did not spread to his underlings and affect THEIR decision making re Trump? Does anyone but me wonder if they might have said or done things in an effort to please their Trump-hating superior in an effort to win his approval? Or do you question if maybe, just maybe, they  bought into Strzok’s hatred and decided that it was “anything goes” where Trump and his team were concerned? Again no one asked him this. There is proof positive of bias in Peter Strzok and the FBIs job performance re: Trump Vs Hillary. When Anthony Weiner’s desktop was discovered with James Comey’s testimony, “And so they found thousands of new emails and then called me the Saturday night before the election and said thanks to the wizardry of our technology, we’ve only had to personally read 6,000. We think we can finish tomorrow morning, Sunday. So James Comey and the other Clinton sycophants were able to read SIX THOUSAND EMAILS OVERNIGHT and they have failed to produce 6 thousand pages of documents at the request of the HIC in over a year. Don’t you think THAT shows operational bias in the DOJs performance? If not then please give a rational explanation.  I think those are all valid questions until We, the People, get to see the unredacted testimony and evidence. I know I, for one, will NEVER trust our government until the people involved in the Uranium One deal and all its fall-out, including the war on Trump, are brought to justice. I will never be able to have faith in a government which would allow itself to be corrupted from within as it has so evidently been. I am a fairly smart man. I not only SEE the problems around us, but I actually have REALISTIC solutions to many of them. Can I get ANYONE to listen to me? NO!!! I understand how people like the Unabomber and these wack job school shooters do what they do – BECAUSE NO ONE PAYS ATTENTION TO THEM. When I see some deranged person attack Scolise or Gabrielle Giffords it makes me ill inside, but I GET IT. Their voice and their “ideals” will never be heard any other way. Violence seems to be the only way to get anyone’s attention unless you are already rich and powerful. I myself have pondered wiping out our government and starting again, but the pragmatist in me says “it will just happen again. New faces, same old crimes.” People elect stupid representatives and they get what they deserve. Our government DOES NOT have to institutionalize corruption and stupidity, however. It needs to do everything it can to prevent it, as the activities of the FBI from 2015 to present have more than adequately demonstrated. Is EITHER political party willing to take a chance on a government that hasn’t been honest this time to do right by them in the future? They shouldn’t be until the last few years have been thoroughly aired out and disinfected. Both sides should be equally interested in preventing this from happening again. I think Trump should say that he thinks that the DOJ and FBI did the right thing and ALL candidates and office holders will be investigated by a special team created by him. He should then go on to say that due to a manpower shortage they will have to concentrate on the democrats first. I wonder how quickly the rights which have been violated by the leftists in the FBI would suddenly become sacred were the shoe on the other foot. My dear legislators, much like Kim Jong Un, you can be HEROES to your countrymen, SIMPLY BY DOING WHAT IS RIGHT. He can feed his people and you can restore We, the People’s faith in the Constitution and the Department of Justice by exposing and prosecuting these criminals. The alternative is having a constituency with absolutely no faith in your authority and no reason not to take matters into their own hands. For more content by Scott Lineback go to RaisingDC.com from https://governmentreform0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

from https://governmentrf.tumblr.com/post/176253589150 from https://richardwilson0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html from https://richardwilson0.tumblr.com/post/176257124302 from https://michaelward0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

[richardwilson0]

V for Vendetta - An open letter to our legislators Re: the DOJ and the FBI

People are comparing the Trump/Russia collusion investigation to all the wrong things with the Holocaust, slavery, 911, etc., etc. The more appropriate comparison is the era of Eisenhower, Hoover, Joe McCarthy and the House Unamerican Activities Committee. Their “investigations” ruined the lives of many Americans for political reasons. Both are terrifying examples of government gone horribly wrong. Our forefathers KNEW what shape our government would eventually take. They KNEW that government grows and becomes unresponsive. They KNEW that power corrupts. That is what we have today, a corrupt, unresponsive government. Our forefathers specifically included the 2nd amendment to the bill of rights TO DEFEND US FROM THE GOVERNMENT. The recent activities by the FBI/DOJ and the CIA, State Department, The Clintons and President Obama have proven BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT why Americans not only have the RIGHT to be armed EFFECTIVELY but the necessity to do so. I have never been so concerned about our government. It seems that daily We, the People are reminded that the government doesn’t care about us at any time except election time. In the movie “V for Vendetta” an anti hero fights a government gone mad. He takes it to extreme measures including violence. It is easy to see how one can come to the conclusion that THAT is the only hope for the future given that high ranking members of the FBI and DOJ have been PROVEN to have tried to swing at least one election using illegal tactics. Given that they answer to NO ONE it is really impossible to know just how many elections, both domestic and foreign, they HAVE manipulated. Could anyone really be blamed for taking matters into their own hands when members of our government have been proven to be both above the law and immune to justice? The only reason this ever came out is because We, the People rejected more Clinton Crime Cartel leadership. Had Hillary won in 2016 this would have all been buried and anyone who tried to expose it would be silenced. My dear legislators, it is IMPERATIVE that you act now, before all hope is lost. You MUST give us full transparency on the Uranium One deal, including all the pertinent emails for those involved. I am certain that most of the resist Trump movement in DC and in the press has to do with the Clintons and the people they involved in the deal to sell out our country. They were either DIRECTLY involved in Clinton crimes, or they became ensnared in Clinton cover ups or they were just Clinton defenders who failed to realize the breadth and depth of Clinton Crime Cartel corruption and are in too deep to confess now. What happened to William Campbell’s testimony? How is a DISCREDITED FBI op, Christopher Steele, given credence and William Campbell, a true blue FBI agent with an impeccable record silenced? Is there a BETTER example of bias? Unfortunately I think there is and I must be the only one that noticed. During open hearing testimony Peter Strzok testified that HE was the one that decided which of his communications he would turn over to the FBI. My mind is still reeling. Once again the FBI investigates ITSELF!!! SERIOUSLY??? This is EXACTLY akin to allowing Hillary Clinton and the DNC to decide what evidence to turn over to the FBI. If allowing a suspect to determine WHICH records they turn over to investigators isn’t indicative of a HUGE bias, if not a criminal conspiracy, then I can’t conceive what is. But I have AN EVEN BETTER EXAMPLE of bias in the texts that Strzok DID allow to become public. Strzok texted “I can’t imagine anything worse than there being ‘no there there’” in regards to president Trump colluding with Russia. Never have more damning words been typed. Shouldn’t the proper worst case scenario for a TRUE AMERICAN FBI AGENT ACTUALLY DOING THEIR JOB be “I can’t imagine anything worse that Trump ACTUALLY colluding with Russia?” No one questioned this statement. Clearly Strzok suborned his love of country and honor and duty to his political agenda if he even had that thought. BUT that isn’t the end of it. Strzok claimed that he was able to separate his dislike of Trump from his job. Even if that highly unlikely statement is true here is a question for his defenders. Did you ever see a coach give a pep talk? Do you know what the purpose is? The purpose of a pep talk is to motivate people to go above and beyond themselves and sometimes the law. Maybe, just maybe, Strzok WAS able to keep his animus separate from his investigation, but does anyone truly believe that his animus did not spread to his underlings and affect THEIR decision making re Trump? Does anyone but me wonder if they might have said or done things in an effort to please their Trump-hating superior in an effort to win his approval? Or do you question if maybe, just maybe, they  bought into Strzok’s hatred and decided that it was “anything goes” where Trump and his team were concerned? Again no one asked him this. There is proof positive of bias in Peter Strzok and the FBIs job performance re: Trump Vs Hillary. When Anthony Weiner’s desktop was discovered with James Comey’s testimony, “And so they found thousands of new emails and then called me the Saturday night before the election and said thanks to the wizardry of our technology, we’ve only had to personally read 6,000. We think we can finish tomorrow morning, Sunday. So James Comey and the other Clinton sycophants were able to read SIX THOUSAND EMAILS OVERNIGHT and they have failed to produce 6 thousand pages of documents at the request of the HIC in over a year. Don’t you think THAT shows operational bias in the DOJs performance? If not then please give a rational explanation.  I think those are all valid questions until We, the People, get to see the unredacted testimony and evidence. I know I, for one, will NEVER trust our government until the people involved in the Uranium One deal and all its fall-out, including the war on Trump, are brought to justice. I will never be able to have faith in a government which would allow itself to be corrupted from within as it has so evidently been. I am a fairly smart man. I not only SEE the problems around us, but I actually have REALISTIC solutions to many of them. Can I get ANYONE to listen to me? NO!!! I understand how people like the Unabomber and these wack job school shooters do what they do – BECAUSE NO ONE PAYS ATTENTION TO THEM. When I see some deranged person attack Scolise or Gabrielle Giffords it makes me ill inside, but I GET IT. Their voice and their “ideals” will never be heard any other way. Violence seems to be the only way to get anyone’s attention unless you are already rich and powerful. I myself have pondered wiping out our government and starting again, but the pragmatist in me says “it will just happen again. New faces, same old crimes.” People elect stupid representatives and they get what they deserve. Our government DOES NOT have to institutionalize corruption and stupidity, however. It needs to do everything it can to prevent it, as the activities of the FBI from 2015 to present have more than adequately demonstrated. Is EITHER political party willing to take a chance on a government that hasn’t been honest this time to do right by them in the future? They shouldn’t be until the last few years have been thoroughly aired out and disinfected. Both sides should be equally interested in preventing this from happening again. I think Trump should say that he thinks that the DOJ and FBI did the right thing and ALL candidates and office holders will be investigated by a special team created by him. He should then go on to say that due to a manpower shortage they will have to concentrate on the democrats first. I wonder how quickly the rights which have been violated by the leftists in the FBI would suddenly become sacred were the shoe on the other foot. My dear legislators, much like Kim Jong Un, you can be HEROES to your countrymen, SIMPLY BY DOING WHAT IS RIGHT. He can feed his people and you can restore We, the People’s faith in the Constitution and the Department of Justice by exposing and prosecuting these criminals. The alternative is having a constituency with absolutely no faith in your authority and no reason not to take matters into their own hands. For more content by Scott Lineback go to RaisingDC.com from https://governmentreform0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

from https://governmentrf.tumblr.com/post/176253589150 from https://richardwilson0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

[sheilalees]

V for Vendetta – An open letter to our legislators Re: the DOJ and the FBI

People are comparing the Trump/Russia collusion investigation to all the wrong things with the Holocaust, slavery, 911, etc., etc. The more appropriate comparison is the era of Eisenhower, Hoover, Joe McCarthy and the House Unamerican Activities Committee. Their “investigations” ruined the lives of many Americans for political reasons.

Both are terrifying examples of government gone horribly wrong.

Our forefathers KNEW what shape our government would eventually take. They KNEW that government grows and becomes unresponsive. They KNEW that power corrupts. That is what we have today, a corrupt, unresponsive government.

Our forefathers specifically included the 2nd amendment to the bill of rights TO DEFEND US FROM THE GOVERNMENT.

The recent activities by the FBI/DOJ and the CIA, State Department, The Clintons and President Obama have proven BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT why Americans not only have the RIGHT to be armed EFFECTIVELY but the necessity to do so. I have never been so concerned about our government. It seems that daily We, the People are reminded that the government doesn’t care about us at any time except election time.

In the movie “V for Vendetta” an anti hero fights a government gone mad. He takes it to extreme measures including violence. It is easy to see how one can come to the conclusion that THAT is the only hope for the future given that high ranking members of the FBI and DOJ have been PROVEN to have tried to swing at least one election using illegal tactics.

Given that they answer to NO ONE it is really impossible to know just how many elections, both domestic and foreign, they HAVE manipulated.

Could anyone really be blamed for taking matters into their own hands when members of our government have been proven to be both above the law and immune to justice? The only reason this ever came out is because We, the People rejected more Clinton Crime Cartel leadership. Had Hillary won in 2016 this would have all been buried and anyone who tried to expose it would be silenced.

My dear legislators, it is IMPERATIVE that you act now, before all hope is lost. You MUST give us full transparency on the Uranium One deal, including all the pertinent emails for those involved. I am certain that most of the resist Trump movement in DC and in the press has to do with the Clintons and the people they involved in the deal to sell out our country.

They were either DIRECTLY involved in Clinton crimes, or they became ensnared in Clinton cover ups or they were just Clinton defenders who failed to realize the breadth and depth of Clinton Crime Cartel corruption and are in too deep to confess now.

What happened to William Campbell’s testimony? How is a DISCREDITED FBI op, Christopher Steele, given credence and William Campbell, a true blue FBI agent with an impeccable record silenced? Is there a BETTER example of bias?

Unfortunately I think there is and I must be the only one that noticed. During open hearing testimony Peter Strzok testified that HE was the one that decided which of his communications he would turn over to the FBI. My mind is still reeling. Once again the FBI investigates ITSELF!!! SERIOUSLY???

This is EXACTLY akin to allowing Hillary Clinton and the DNC to decide what evidence to turn over to the FBI. If allowing a suspect to determine WHICH records they turn over to investigators isn’t indicative of a HUGE bias, if not a criminal conspiracy, then I can’t conceive what is. But I have AN EVEN BETTER EXAMPLE of bias in the texts that Strzok DID allow to become public.

Strzok texted “I can’t imagine anything worse than there being ‘no there there’” in regards to president Trump colluding with Russia. Never have more damning words been typed. Shouldn’t the proper worst case scenario for a TRUE AMERICAN FBI AGENT ACTUALLY DOING THEIR JOB be “I can’t imagine anything worse that Trump ACTUALLY colluding with Russia?” No one questioned this statement.

Clearly Strzok suborned his love of country and honor and duty to his political agenda if he even had that thought. BUT that isn’t the end of it. Strzok claimed that he was able to separate his dislike of Trump from his job. Even if that highly unlikely statement is true here is a question for his defenders.

Did you ever see a coach give a pep talk? Do you know what the purpose is? The purpose of a pep talk is to motivate people to go above and beyond themselves and sometimes the law. Maybe, just maybe, Strzok WAS able to keep his animus separate from his investigation, but does anyone truly believe that his animus did not spread to his underlings and affect THEIR decision making re Trump?

Does anyone but me wonder if they might have said or done things in an effort to please their Trump-hating superior in an effort to win his approval? Or do you question if maybe, just maybe, they  bought into Strzok’s hatred and decided that it was “anything goes” where Trump and his team were concerned? Again no one asked him this.

There is proof positive of bias in Peter Strzok and the FBIs job performance re: Trump Vs Hillary. When Anthony Weiner’s desktop was discovered with James Comey’s testimony, “And so they found thousands of new emails and then called me the Saturday night before the election and said thanks to the wizardry of our technology, we’ve only had to personally read 6,000. We think we can finish tomorrow morning, Sunday.

So James Comey and the other Clinton sycophants were able to read SIX THOUSAND EMAILS OVERNIGHT and they have failed to produce 6 thousand pages of documents at the request of the HIC in over a year. Don’t you think THAT shows operational bias in the DOJs performance? If not then please give a rational explanation. 

I think those are all valid questions until We, the People, get to see the unredacted testimony and evidence. I know I, for one, will NEVER trust our government until the people involved in the Uranium One deal and all its fall-out, including the war on Trump, are brought to justice. I will never be able to have faith in a government which would allow itself to be corrupted from within as it has so evidently been.

I am a fairly smart man. I not only SEE the problems around us, but I actually have REALISTIC solutions to many of them. Can I get ANYONE to listen to me? NO!!!

I understand how people like the Unabomber and these wack job school shooters do what they do – BECAUSE NO ONE PAYS ATTENTION TO THEM.

When I see some deranged person attack Scolise or Gabrielle Giffords it makes me ill inside, but I GET IT. Their voice and their “ideals” will never be heard any other way. Violence seems to be the only way to get anyone’s attention unless you are already rich and powerful.

I myself have pondered wiping out our government and starting again, but the pragmatist in me says “it will just happen again. New faces, same old crimes.” People elect stupid representatives and they get what they deserve.

Our government DOES NOT have to institutionalize corruption and stupidity, however. It needs to do everything it can to prevent it, as the activities of the FBI from 2015 to present have more than adequately demonstrated.

Is EITHER political party willing to take a chance on a government that hasn’t been honest this time to do right by them in the future? They shouldn’t be until the last few years have been thoroughly aired out and disinfected. Both sides should be equally interested in preventing this from happening again.

I think Trump should say that he thinks that the DOJ and FBI did the right thing and ALL candidates and office holders will be investigated by a special team created by him. He should then go on to say that due to a manpower shortage they will have to concentrate on the democrats first. I wonder how quickly the rights which have been violated by the leftists in the FBI would suddenly become sacred were the shoe on the other foot.

My dear legislators, much like Kim Jong Un, you can be HEROES to your countrymen, SIMPLY BY DOING WHAT IS RIGHT.

He can feed his people and you can restore We, the People’s faith in the Constitution and the Department of Justice by exposing and prosecuting these criminals. The alternative is having a constituency with absolutely no faith in your authority and no reason not to take matters into their own hands.

For more content by Scott Lineback go to RaisingDC.com

From https://governmentreform0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

from https://governmentreform0.wordpress.com/2018/07/25/v-for-vendetta-an-open-letter-to-our-legislators-re-the-doj-and-the-fbi/ from https://sheilalees.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

[berthapriest0]

V for Vendetta – An open letter to our legislators Re: the DOJ and the FBI

People are comparing the Trump/Russia collusion investigation to all the wrong things with the Holocaust, slavery, 911, etc., etc. The more appropriate comparison is the era of Eisenhower, Hoover, Joe McCarthy and the House Unamerican Activities Committee. Their “investigations” ruined the lives of many Americans for political reasons.

Both are terrifying examples of government gone horribly wrong.

Our forefathers KNEW what shape our government would eventually take. They KNEW that government grows and becomes unresponsive. They KNEW that power corrupts. That is what we have today, a corrupt, unresponsive government.

Our forefathers specifically included the 2nd amendment to the bill of rights TO DEFEND US FROM THE GOVERNMENT.

The recent activities by the FBI/DOJ and the CIA, State Department, The Clintons and President Obama have proven BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT why Americans not only have the RIGHT to be armed EFFECTIVELY but the necessity to do so. I have never been so concerned about our government. It seems that daily We, the People are reminded that the government doesn’t care about us at any time except election time.

In the movie “V for Vendetta” an anti hero fights a government gone mad. He takes it to extreme measures including violence. It is easy to see how one can come to the conclusion that THAT is the only hope for the future given that high ranking members of the FBI and DOJ have been PROVEN to have tried to swing at least one election using illegal tactics.

Given that they answer to NO ONE it is really impossible to know just how many elections, both domestic and foreign, they HAVE manipulated.

Could anyone really be blamed for taking matters into their own hands when members of our government have been proven to be both above the law and immune to justice? The only reason this ever came out is because We, the People rejected more Clinton Crime Cartel leadership. Had Hillary won in 2016 this would have all been buried and anyone who tried to expose it would be silenced.

My dear legislators, it is IMPERATIVE that you act now, before all hope is lost. You MUST give us full transparency on the Uranium One deal, including all the pertinent emails for those involved. I am certain that most of the resist Trump movement in DC and in the press has to do with the Clintons and the people they involved in the deal to sell out our country.

They were either DIRECTLY involved in Clinton crimes, or they became ensnared in Clinton cover ups or they were just Clinton defenders who failed to realize the breadth and depth of Clinton Crime Cartel corruption and are in too deep to confess now.

What happened to William Campbell’s testimony? How is a DISCREDITED FBI op, Christopher Steele, given credence and William Campbell, a true blue FBI agent with an impeccable record silenced? Is there a BETTER example of bias?

Unfortunately I think there is and I must be the only one that noticed. During open hearing testimony Peter Strzok testified that HE was the one that decided which of his communications he would turn over to the FBI. My mind is still reeling. Once again the FBI investigates ITSELF!!! SERIOUSLY???

This is EXACTLY akin to allowing Hillary Clinton and the DNC to decide what evidence to turn over to the FBI. If allowing a suspect to determine WHICH records they turn over to investigators isn’t indicative of a HUGE bias, if not a criminal conspiracy, then I can’t conceive what is. But I have AN EVEN BETTER EXAMPLE of bias in the texts that Strzok DID allow to become public.

Strzok texted “I can’t imagine anything worse than there being ‘no there there’” in regards to president Trump colluding with Russia. Never have more damning words been typed. Shouldn’t the proper worst case scenario for a TRUE AMERICAN FBI AGENT ACTUALLY DOING THEIR JOB be “I can’t imagine anything worse that Trump ACTUALLY colluding with Russia?” No one questioned this statement.

Clearly Strzok suborned his love of country and honor and duty to his political agenda if he even had that thought. BUT that isn’t the end of it. Strzok claimed that he was able to separate his dislike of Trump from his job. Even if that highly unlikely statement is true here is a question for his defenders.

Did you ever see a coach give a pep talk? Do you know what the purpose is? The purpose of a pep talk is to motivate people to go above and beyond themselves and sometimes the law. Maybe, just maybe, Strzok WAS able to keep his animus separate from his investigation, but does anyone truly believe that his animus did not spread to his underlings and affect THEIR decision making re Trump?

Does anyone but me wonder if they might have said or done things in an effort to please their Trump-hating superior in an effort to win his approval? Or do you question if maybe, just maybe, they  bought into Strzok’s hatred and decided that it was “anything goes” where Trump and his team were concerned? Again no one asked him this.

There is proof positive of bias in Peter Strzok and the FBIs job performance re: Trump Vs Hillary. When Anthony Weiner’s desktop was discovered with James Comey’s testimony, “And so they found thousands of new emails and then called me the Saturday night before the election and said thanks to the wizardry of our technology, we’ve only had to personally read 6,000. We think we can finish tomorrow morning, Sunday.

So James Comey and the other Clinton sycophants were able to read SIX THOUSAND EMAILS OVERNIGHT and they have failed to produce 6 thousand pages of documents at the request of the HIC in over a year. Don’t you think THAT shows operational bias in the DOJs performance? If not then please give a rational explanation. 

I think those are all valid questions until We, the People, get to see the unredacted testimony and evidence. I know I, for one, will NEVER trust our government until the people involved in the Uranium One deal and all its fall-out, including the war on Trump, are brought to justice. I will never be able to have faith in a government which would allow itself to be corrupted from within as it has so evidently been.

I am a fairly smart man. I not only SEE the problems around us, but I actually have REALISTIC solutions to many of them. Can I get ANYONE to listen to me? NO!!!

I understand how people like the Unabomber and these wack job school shooters do what they do – BECAUSE NO ONE PAYS ATTENTION TO THEM.

When I see some deranged person attack Scolise or Gabrielle Giffords it makes me ill inside, but I GET IT. Their voice and their “ideals” will never be heard any other way. Violence seems to be the only way to get anyone’s attention unless you are already rich and powerful.

I myself have pondered wiping out our government and starting again, but the pragmatist in me says “it will just happen again. New faces, same old crimes.” People elect stupid representatives and they get what they deserve.

Our government DOES NOT have to institutionalize corruption and stupidity, however. It needs to do everything it can to prevent it, as the activities of the FBI from 2015 to present have more than adequately demonstrated.

Is EITHER political party willing to take a chance on a government that hasn’t been honest this time to do right by them in the future? They shouldn’t be until the last few years have been thoroughly aired out and disinfected. Both sides should be equally interested in preventing this from happening again.

I think Trump should say that he thinks that the DOJ and FBI did the right thing and ALL candidates and office holders will be investigated by a special team created by him. He should then go on to say that due to a manpower shortage they will have to concentrate on the democrats first. I wonder how quickly the rights which have been violated by the leftists in the FBI would suddenly become sacred were the shoe on the other foot.

My dear legislators, much like Kim Jong Un, you can be HEROES to your countrymen, SIMPLY BY DOING WHAT IS RIGHT.

He can feed his people and you can restore We, the People’s faith in the Constitution and the Department of Justice by exposing and prosecuting these criminals. The alternative is having a constituency with absolutely no faith in your authority and no reason not to take matters into their own hands.

For more content by Scott Lineback go to RaisingDC.com

From https://governmentreform0.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

from https://governmentreform0.wordpress.com/2018/07/25/v-for-vendetta-an-open-letter-to-our-legislators-re-the-doj-and-the-fbi/

From https://sheilalees.blogspot.com/2018/07/v-for-vendetta-open-letter-to-our.html

from https://sheilalees.wordpress.com/2018/07/25/v-for-vendetta-an-open-letter-to-our-legislators-re-the-doj-and-the-fbi/ from https://ift.tt/2mFOnzW

[caesurabywriting]

do you have a drabble or headcanon of your otp: fooling the world & each other becoming engaged? pretty please. c: i'm curious.

because you said please + i’ll take any excuse to talk about them, i’m obligated to answer this. honestly i have way too many headcanons but i’m going to try and be concise and coherent here (+ huge apologies for how long this is anyway, but these two are hella complicated and i’m way too Extra for their angst)headcanons:

- they only get engaged because she claims she’s pregnant (spoiler alert: she’s not, but she’s relying on the fact that she can get pregnant soon after/in a close enough window for it to be true) - she uses that excuse to get his attention bc he seemed to be getting more and more distant and passive re: their relationship and she wanted to have a way to lock him down even if she has to heavily manipulate the situation to get her way. she’s like a milder form of amy dunne.- she’s also the poster child for abandonment and trust issues because her parents were awful, but it’s what brought them ~together~ in the first place. his ex-gf, viv, was her best friend. they all lived together in NYC, along w tom’s own bestie, for six years ( which is what #manhattan memoirs is about ) before viv one day abruptly moved out without an explanation, dropping contact with them both, abandoning their perfect unit of four. up until that point tom and tessa barely tolerated each other + had an ongoing banter thing going on. she had a short fuse and he loved to light it at any chance he got. antagonizing her was his favorite hobby. later on, they proceeded to ‘bond’ over angry and angsty hate sex to avoid being sad over her viv’s departure. but then feelings were caught. oops. anyways…- she’s a ~first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby~ kind of person, and he knows this. having a baby without being married first would be a huge deal breaker for her. if he declined stepping up to ask her to marry him there would be no baby and she’d tell him to leave (in theory, but between you and me i don’t think she could and would have come up with something more dramatic to get his undying attention)- it was very non romantic and went down more like a business deal discussion. she presented a serious ultimatum that needed addressing. she sprung it on him. essentially, pre-proposing his proposal. there was no ring or down-on-one-knee business. it was very much a highly staked version of ‘should i stay or should i go?’- she went out by herself after the ‘proposal’ and chose her own ring and everything. anything he chose would have been complained about and returned- he wanted/wants to propose again in a more romantic and thoughtful way because even though he’s pretty neutral about marriage, he sees it’s important to her and she deserves the best of things. alas, time kept ticking by and it seemed like he’d lost his shot, so he kept such plans to himself and lets her resent him a little extra for his apparent lack of involvement, as usual.i do not have a full drabble composed ( yet - but i probably will one day even though it will ruin my life ), but i do have various fragmented flashback/extracts from actual replies/past threads that may or may not make sense out of context but, regardless, i’ve collected them below if you’re interested on a glimpse of things somewhat engagement-related:

1. Their tables had done more than shift, they had been flipped and spun out. The undeniable truth tightly wrapped around his reality, pinning him transfixed in place. For better or for worse, those two lines had seen Tom’s uncontrolled fishtailing hitched onto a finite track. A duo of one dimensional pink had the power to change everything. Tom blinked over dilated pupils, his sentimental conscience sucker punched by a one-two hit of remorse and disquietude. It was all still etched into him like the grooves of a record, designed to be played on repeat at his masochistic leisure — Tessa presenting herself empty handed after already discarding the evidence, bearing the news with clutched hands and a penetrating gaze. Her voice, poised and decisively urgent: ’Stay.’ They were standing in the same room for the first time in three days. He’d avoided the sheen of her dark hair for the floorboards, ‘That’s not all you’re asking.’ His timbre noticeably wavered in comparison to hers. Like a whip, Tessa’s voice cut across with a warning flatline: ‘No. It’s what we are.’ Her eyes, calculating, soften magnanimously the moment he looks up, ‘You know your answer, don’t you, Thomas?’ 2. Her reveal had been a surprise. Admittedly, he was the only one to blame for that belief, his sense of awareness not particularly careful nor attentive during the time between an office shift ending and them falling from a fight into a bed together. In all it’s ‘A one time thing. We’re not doing this again,’ ( gradually switched out for ‘make it a one more time thing,’ ) glory. What had only ever been meant to be a secondary arrangement, intended to fill space, to pass time. The most beneficial way to end a combative argument. It was an exhausting interlude that matched the tone of his routine, wearing him down until he was nothing but fine grains. He had been confused, torn, and collectable.3. No celebratory graduation ceremony marked their progression as they impassively watched their shared temperature rise from ‘fling’ to ‘fiancé’, endlessly fluctuating between offensively heated and dishearteningly tepid throughout. Their anniversaries as somber as the sticker announcing it on the square of calendar. That catalyzing moment of history turned away from very deliberately. There were no sweet heart-eyed how did you two meet narratives to supply. Just Mr. Type-B and Ms. Type-A, two heartbroken kids susceptible to distraction. Amusing themselves until it became real. Maybe it did. Or maybe it was harmless and it was pure paranoia making it seem like a neon sign blinked above his head in an infinite line of alarmed exclamation marks.4. Wreckage was imminent no matter which way the pieces aligned. Home ( now ) was sleeplessly staring at a ceiling, deliberating in the dark and into the glow of the morning. Most of all, an internal pleading line of looped thought: Oh, God, let today be a normal day. Let him be normally nervous, unhesitating, and spontaneously happy. Let him not squint as Tessa walked away, the disheveled shadow of dark hair thrown down her back strongly evoking of another’s in poor lighting. Familiar shades of umber and taupe clashing with the lesser known notes of sangria and mint on her breath, the scent of rose in her hair. Tessa, an intended sojourn; a breathing space. An operating lightbulb to illuminate the dreary darkness of a vicissitude neither wanted to admit they were blind in trying to navigate. No one was ever prepared for a demotion into the limited edition status of another’s life when, viewed in the other direction, they’d presumably been branded essential. But it had happened, and Tessa was the only tangible reason not to go too far off an precipice that led to no tomorrow. Pulling at hands smudged with paint instead of cigarette ash in a desperate attempt at capsizing the insurmountable detritus of past imprints drifting throughout his system. Taking the brunt of all frustration, tremor, and every emotion banned from expression. Aggressively sidelining the only language he wanted to feel, touch, and listen to. Relearning a different one. Everything that had been absentminded and easy now requiring vigilance and humorless behavior. Yet as exhausting as all her short tempered glares and cavilling was, it had also been her strict accountability and interception between him and acts of stupidity that kept him together.5. She was a person to whom his surrendering murmur of ‘I love you’ often had the bitter aftertaste of something over-steeped. His palliative precursor, a promising commitment not to be cowardly, invitingly interchangeable with other prosperous phrases of three: I am here. I am staying. We are family. The woman who’d engaged in an unrequested initiative, yanking the dusty rug out from beneath their at-risk stale situation and pulling them into dazzling sunlight. He couldn’t have said no if he’d wanted to. He was prepared to try — faking it until it was true — just as he shouldered everything else. Maybe saying yes to Tessa, and in turn something that scared him, had been the gateway drug.6. There were many shouldn’t-ridden clauses, both spoken and not, between the two of them. Tessa and Thomas. One of the very first in-depth conversations they’d had ended with a shouldn’t. The first time he hadn’t felt the need to crack a prolonged, tensely held, silence with something deprecating. Instead, tentatively entering the humid air, a plea and a concern all in one: We shouldn’t do this, it’s too soon. Then, only two days later: we shouldn’t stop, I can’t do this alone. And the rest fell into natural order, the reoccurring theme of expectations fallen short: He shouldn’t come home so late. She shouldn’t have to ask twice. We shouldn’t talk about that. The clarity of her voice in his head was almost identical to a certain other someone’s. A different inflection, a different time — but just the same; a damning memory able to be plucked from the recesses of his mind at the most inconvenient of moments. Tessa’s censorious commentary was never far behind. He’d been consumed by it in slowly advancing increments for nearly ten years. In the beginning, a day-to-day routine of merely pretending he was listening to her as he dotingly observed the accompanying figure that she’d arrived with. More recently, her unimpressed narration wove through the fabric of any of the romantic or couple-y things they tried to do. Tom, begrudgingly following her into the overcrowded abyss of whatever public outing she’d pre-arranged, always far too absentminded, staying alert for all the wrong reasons. Looking down to check on even the slightest vibration of his phone — a problem? A meeting? A respite? — whilst completely avoiding having to provide any input on Tessa’s newly favorite subject ( it rhymed with bedding ). Their verbal tennis matches, a ceaseless tit-for-tat game of passive aggression, could run steady laps around everything else they did. It was almost an entity of it’s own. There was Tom, there was Tessa, and there was that low pressure that hung in the atmosphere whenever they entered into the same room as if someone had made tasteless a joke at a funeral. The one beam of hope through it all was the fact that, admitted to or not, they knew each other too well. Despite what they withheld from one another — even though, if presented the same card drawn during a Rorschach Test she’d see the shape of a book where he’d see a pint of beer — they could never return to being strangers. Getting to know her had been a muffled process, a slowly sinking feeling. The diluting of a strongly flavored concentrate with hot water. Three parts scathing to one part cordial. Mild enough to eventually be widely palatable as opposed to the too-potent original double dose; the sort of thing that appealed to rush-seeking junkies and hyperactive children and those who fell somewhere in between.