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racefortheironthrone · 1 year

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BOE, the Messenger(s), and the Trillionaires

Introduction

I’ve been doing a re-read of the Locked Tomb - although technically it’s a re-listen, because I like the audiobooks - and I stumbled across a particular passage that hadn’t stuck in my memory before that made me rethink my understanding of the origin of Blood of Eden. Ever since Harrow the Ninth and especially since Nona the Ninth, there’s been this common interpretation that the BOE are descendants of the trillionaires who abandoned Earth and that’s why John is at war with them. I’m not so sure that’s true any more.

Here’s why. In Nona, when the whole business with Crown/Corona infiltrating the barracks kicks off, there’s an interesting exchange between Camilla and We Suffer about the Oversight Committee that includes this statement:

“Hect, what you must understand about Blood of Eden is that we own things in common, we share responsibilities and resources in common. She could have moved these resources at will...but I must make one move at a time. And above all, I must place the safety of...Blood of Eden’s continuity...even above the mission.” (Emphasis mine.)

This took me aback somewhat, because the emphasis on militant communal ownership doesn’t really fit with the idea of “descendants of trillionaires.” I suppose one could say that it’s been ten thousand years, cultures change and drift over time...except that, as I’ll get into later, the BOE seems very very insistent on cultural preservation, so it would be a bit out-of-character if they changed that stance on this one particular issue.

And that’s what made me think: what if the BOE aren’t the descendants of the trillionaires? What if they’re the descendants of the non-trillionaires on the FTL ships?

East of Eden: A Theory About What Happened After the FTL Ships Jumped

So here’s the question that’s been percolating in my mind: once you’re out in space, why keep listening to the trillionaires, especially about the vital question of who owns the precious resources brought from Eden and who gets to decide happens next? There would probably be some residual cultural deference to the visionary disruptors, but the traditional answers of property law backed up by the state or men with guns paid to enforce the orders of the capitalists kind of break down when you consider that:

In John’s chapters (and verses) in Nona, we get an account of what happened leading up to and during the Resurrection: according to John, the trillionaires pulled a con job on the planet with their FTL ships, pretending that a fleet of twelve ships, each carrying a few thousand people (made up of “hand-picked guys” and “two hundred nominated people”), was merely the first wave of a planetary evacuation. As Mercymorn and others worked out, there were no future waves, no plan to come back and pick up more, the trillionaires had liquidated their cash and financial assets in favor of buying up material resources they’d need in space, and everyone else was being left for dead.

These twelve ships (possibly minus one, it’s not clear whether John managed to destroy the one he grabbed before it jumped) and the 20-odd thousand people on them must be the ancestors of exo-humanity as it exists in the myriadic year. But we know that of those 20-odd thousand people, only a “half-dozen” were the trillionaires. Everyone else was staff they’d selected to do the work of planetary colonization, plus a tiny group of people chosen by the governments of Earth Eden.

other than 200 randos who are likely to be recruited from the ranks of elected officials and upper management bureaucracy rather than Special Forces, the forces of the state are not only light-years away but also just got eaten by John Gaius.

it’s a bit harder to pull off the Jay Gould method when you’ve turned all of your cash into raw materials, there’s nowhere to spend cash in space, and it doesn’t take long for men with guns in that scenario to decide that the resources belong to them actually, because they have the guns.

While we know that some form of a market economy exists on New Rho and the other exo-planets, there doesn’t seem to be any sign of an oligarchical ruling class based on ownership of capital. Rather, we see a state of anarchy where there is no hegemonic entity but duelling centers of power. This suggests to me that the trillionaires’ power did not last very long after human settlement outside the solar system, possibly due to a (potentially bloodless) revolution in which the only surviving members of humanity just decided not to listen to six old (white) men and took their shit in order to survive.

In that scenario, I could see it being the case that the collective memory of communal ownership of property in the midst of a crisis could linger among a certain sub-population and provide the origin for this aspect of BOE’s internal culture.

So where did BOE come from?

Well, in large part it emerged as an organic response to John Gaius’ imperialist campaign against exo-humanity. As I noted elsewhere, John’s revenge against those who abandoned Earth in her hour of need is essentially a re-enactment of colonialism - the Cohort shows up with their overwhelming military might, forces the local population into subjugation with unequal treaties, imposes its language and customs, destroys the natural environment in a drive for short-term resource extraction, and then forces people into an endless cycle of being resettled on reservations over and over again - which makes a certain sick sense, in that it’s probably the worst thing that a Kiwi of Maori heritage could think of doing to their enemies.

He even goes to the extent of modelling the Cohort uniforms on 19th century British Army uniforms with the colors reversed, and coming up with his own gloss on the Christianity that was imposed on indigenous populations in the name of “civilizing” them. This campaign is only mystifying to outside observers like Augustine and Coronabeth because they don’t have the cultural context to know what John’s up to (in no small part because he’s used his necromantic powers and political position in order to suppress all knowledge of that context).

And thus, it’s not that surprising that John’s imperialism provoked anti-colonial resistance: when his Empire made contact with exo-humanity, to the extent that anyone still remembered him, it was as the horrific necromantic cult leader who murdered the ten billion and destroyed Eden, and now he’s come to finish the job in the name of collective punishment for the sins of six dead men, and by the way he’s bringing death and the defilement of the dead and the destruction of everything you’ve ever built with him. There probably have been dozens and hundreds of resistance movements - some local, some planetary, some multi-planetary - that rose up and got crushed over thousands of years.

So what makes BOE different from all other resistance movements?

The Messenger(s)

I want to go back a few thousand years and talk about what happened when the FTL ships managed to escape the solar system. While interplanetary colonization would always be an incredibly stressful experience even without a revolution, the fact that all of this was happening in the wake of John nuking Earth and killing the ten billion, then devouring the solar system, and their narrow escape from his wrothful grasp would have added an entirely different level of terror to the event - but also a new sense of responsibility.

Because - regardless of whether people on the FTL ships knew about the trillionaires’ supposed plan to abandon humanity on Earth or believed John’s accusations - they were now the sole survivors of humanity, the carriers of all culture and history. The ao3 author Griselda_Gimpel has a really good series of fics imagining the development of exo-humanity from the FTL ships onwards, and in one scene they mention the enormous sense of cultural loss that people on those ships would have felt when they realized that the internet was gone forever.

And this got me thinking: what if some nerds on those ships had that kind of profound reaction and decided to preserve as much of Earth’s heritage as possible? How would you do that with limited access to computer storage and humanity potentially scattering across multiple planets, and knowledge being lost forever with the march of time as the original settler generation died off and was replaced by new generations born outside the solar system? I think the answer is:

Oral tradition. See, one of the things that fans of the series have been talking about for a while is the implications of the myriadic duration of the Empire, what that would have done to language and culture in the Nine Houses and among BOE, how is it that people can still be speaking the same language or reading the same writing as from the time of the Resurrection, let alone remember memes and cultural references from the 21st century? This is a fair reaction from a Western perspective - after all, ten thousand years ago would be roughly 8000 BCE or smack dab in the Early Neolithic. Surely it would have been impossible for the memory of Earth to have survived that long.

But, as people have said, Tamsyn Muir is writing a very Kiwi series. And one of the things that is very distinctive about the culture of Aotearoa is the oral traditions of the Maori and Pasifika cultures more generally. While Maori oral histories go back to the 13th century CE when Aotearoa was settled, Australian Aboriginal oral tradition goes back as far as potentially 30,000-40,000 years. Oral tradition is not perfectly reliable, it undergoes drift and change over time, it can experience loss and disruption (from colonization, for example), but it can endure across millennia.

My theory is that these nerds on the FTL ships or their descendants dedicated themselves to the mission of cultural preservation through oral tradition, and thus the Messengers were born. And at some point, the Messengers met up with Blood of Eden and explained that John Gaius’ colonial campaign wasn’t just an unjustified act of aggression and imperialism, but an act of cultural genocide stretching back 10,000 years:

“I charge you with...the utter disintegration of institutions political and social, languages, cultures, religions, all niceties and personal liberties of the nations, by use of-”

“...they’re dead words--a human chain reaching back ten thousand years...how did they feel?” (Harrow the Ninth)

Somewhere around this point, then, BOE took as its mission the preservation of the Messengers, which is why they are given BOE bodyguards, why discharging a weapon in their presence is grounds for execution, and why they are both deeply respected and honored by BOE but kept away from sensitive missions and not necessarily kept in the loop on critical intel.

Why AIM is “They”

This part of my theory suggested an explanation for why AIM is called “they” by Blood of Eden, and why Palamedes Sextus sensed a necromantic implant when they “stumbled” into AIM at the school. We know that the Sixth House has been in contact with Blood of Eden for a very long time, and that Cassiopeia was not only responsible for the Sixth’s “break clause” but also was BOE’s “Source Gram.”

My theory is that Cassiopeia and the Sixth, being a bunch of librarian nerds obsessed with the preservation of cultural knowledge, would never have been entirely comfortable with taking John Gaius’ word for what happened during the Resurrection and what life was like on pre-Resurrection Earth. The natural place to look for an alternate source of documentation would be exo-humanity, and I think she/they went looking clandestinely and came across the Messengers and BOE. Somehow, they avoided killing each other and came to a modus vivendi.

I think part of this modus vivendi was an offer by Cassiopeia/the Sixth to provide the Messengers with an improved means of preserving their oral tradition: namely, a necromantic implant that would preserve the ghosts of dead Messengers and let them communicate with their successors, ensuring that the oral tradition could be passed down perfectly from generation to generation. After all, not only are the Sixth House spirit magicians, but they are specialist psychometricians who know better than anyone else how to pull information about and from the past from material objects, and it was Doctor Sex who gave Palamedes the idea for preserving revenant spirits after death by giving them a physical anchor.

Hence, AIM is they because they are a collective “human chain” of all the Messengers who came before them - they have the voices of hundreds of cultural preservations in their heads, telling them of all that was lost with the fall of Eden. No wonder they want to play school teacher and be “she” for a while.

Conclusion

TLDR: BOE aren’t trillionaires, they’re commie terrorists with a fetish for cultural preservation. So I guess this makes the whole war a case of leftist infighting, considered in the long run?

#the locked tomb #blood of eden #boe #aim #the messenger #the angel #ntn #ntn spoilers #nona the ninth #pash #our lady of the passion #the sixth house #cassiopeia #tlt

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friendamedes · 1 year

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locked tomb fic, to be updated whenever possible.

ao3. alt.

RATED T:

the same mistake: campal slice of life, 2k.

drama in the library consumes palamedes, and camilla gives him a manicure to make up for it.

my love, i am the speed of sound: campal relationship study, 15k.

In which Camilla is upsettingly prone to injury; Palamedes experiences his first fictional crush; wounds are tended; childhood honor is defended; research is conducted; and baths are taken. (Or: a 5+1 exploration of Camilla's various scars, from Palamedes' perspective).

leftovers: corona pov campal, 4k.

Coronabeth Tridentarius observes, waits, and wants what she can't have.

hold close & snug: campal fluff, 1k.

Unfortunately, Camilla has morning plans.

intricate rituals: campal slice of life, 5.7k.

Palamedes attempts to convince Cam to pierce his ears.

the hands that beckon: cam-centric campal, 3k.

Camilla Hect takes a bath, thinks about the Warden, and has an awkward conversation with Nona.

some moments last forever: pyrrha pov musing on cam's suicidality, background campal, 3k. part one of a series.

A post-Nona no-Paul AU.

a white and soundless place: nona pov campal fluff, 2k. part two of a series.

Nona has a nightmare and seeks Camilla and Palamedes' comfort.

as in a mirror, dimly: campal, 2.5k. part three of a series.

Some time after his resurrection, Cam wakes Palamedes in the middle of the night.

grasping organ: griddlehark post-canon AU, 3.7k.

Gideon and Harrow discuss her newfound state of being (dead), the weather (rainy), and their relationship to each other (honestly, who knows).

something about mouths: campal pre-canon fluff, 2.6k.

An attempt is made.

snip snip: gideon/cam university AU, 2k.

“Uh,” she says. She traces her fingers down the curve of her own skull, brushing through her neglected undercut. It's getting way too long. “If you have time this afternoon.” “I do.” “Could you—if you’re down—” Cam quirks a single impatient eyebrow. “Shave my head?” finishes Gideon, her words running into each other anxiously. “Please?”

RATED M:

not quantum physics: campal demi4demi headcanon, 4.6k.

It becomes obvious to Palamedes that he approaches relationships differently than his cavalier. Cam entertains a lady friend. Juno hosts office hours. Internal Affairs does not yet secure their comeuppance.

introductions: reader/abigail/magnus with a healthy helping of worldbuilding, 4.8k.

Your relationship with Abigail changes. You can't help but get a little nervous.

kissing lessons: campalnona That NTN Hand Kiss But On The Mouth, 16k.

PALAMEDES SAYS A BAD WORD - NONA VISITS THE LAUNDROMAT - CAM DOES A CROSSWORD - EXPERIMENTING WITH BRAIDS - SOME KISSING - PYRRHA FINDS OUT - THE JOYS OF ICE WATER

Consensual Workplace Relationship: campal pre-canon fluff, 2.8k.

Tipsy closet makeouts. That's it. That's the fic.

put your sweet lips (on my lips): jodybeth pre-canon practice kissing, 4k.

Judith attends Coronabeth's eighteenth birthday party. Coronabeth tells her a secret, and together, they do their best to remedy her problem. Judith is repressed. Coronabeth is not.

Curtain Call: whumptober campal & campyrrha, 2k.

The Sixth's Grand Lysis goes wrong. Pyrrha Dve is left to pick up the pieces.

RATED E:

move (like grey skies): campal dom/sub, 10k.

“I have been,” says Palamedes crisply, the minute Camilla enters the apartment, “a very bad boy.” Cam spares him a side-glance, a flick of brown eyes toward him as she sets down her bag on the kitchen chair. She looks unimpressed. Her bangs are glued to her forehead with sweat; her tank top clings to her skin, soaked through the back. The line of her sports bra is clearly visible through the fabric. “All right,” she says.

taste your beating heart: campal somnophilia, 5k.

Cam is still asleep when Palamedes wakes up. He takes the opportunity to adore her.

A Titty Nature: camgideon, 1k.

Kissing, et cetera.

Standard Procedure: campal medical kink, 3k.

In the end, Cam doesn’t wear a nurse’s outfit: she borrows a white lab coat from some unspecified department, ties up her hair into a short, bobbing ponytail, and clips a pen to her breast pocket. She is wearing a pair of reading glasses that sit low on her nose—Kiana’s, Palamedes thinks, but he’s not certain. The whole of this does more to him, vis-a-vis the situation in his trousers, than he’s willing to admit.

Look At This Photograph: camgideon, 10k.

Cam's other girlfriend, a hobbyist photographer, enjoys taking erotic photos of her when she gets the chance. Gideon wants in.

C. familiaris: harrow/alecto petplay, 4k.

“Yes,” says Alecto. She speaks with a strange cadence, a sort of half-nervousness that sparks somewhere beneath Harrow’s sternum. “I have been an abomination, and I have been a human girl—I would like to be a dog.”

fearful passage: kiriona/ianthe necrophilia roleplay, drabble.

Ianthe and Kiriona play a game.

What the Doctor Ordered: campal genderfuckery, feat. transmasc pal in a femme nurse's outfit, 5k.

Palamedes gets a package.

Good Girl: tridentariicest petplay, 1k.

Coronabeth is Ianthe's big dicked bimbo puppy. Ianthe's into it.

the soft animal of your body: camnona omegaverse, 3k.

Nona goes into heat.

#i didn't like how the old one was formatted so i redid it - apologies if i'm clogging anyone's dash #quinn txt #the locked tomb #my fic #pinned

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dailyanarchistposts · 2 months

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Solutions?

In a video interview with Critical Theory in Berlin[8] he proposes to set up a planned economy to reduce emissions yearly and instate sanctions forcing corporations to pursue technocratic solutions (e.g. drawing down Co2 from the atmosphere) in a bid to recuperate the power of the state for planetary salvation.

In a co-authored editorial Seize the Means of Carbon Removal: The Political Economy of Direct Air Capture,[9] he plays through different scenarios of carbon removal from the air and demands that the “the left” confront it. Natural carbon sinks cannot possibly do all the work, so what remains apparent is the inherent need for new technological advancements and centralized planning to make capture solutions viable.

Malm, however, believes if the “means of removal” were socialised, capital accumulation could be off the table and the process would help repair climate damage, never mind the ecological and energetic costs of those technologies.

To be clear, large-scale carbon capture and storage technology is merely a hype, not a viable technology at our disposal. It remains unproven at scale, with current test facilities shutting down due to repeated mechanical failures[10] and exorbitant operating costs.[11]

It requires vast industrial complexes and a further scarring of the environment, all the while releasing more Co2 to the atmosphere than sequestered (as seen in Norway’s Sleipner Facility,[12] currently the best facility on Earth).

From geoengineering [R.F. – see Return Fire vol.3 pg8] utopia, Malm continues during his interview, and I am paraphrasing: If we can lock up people inside their houses for a period of time, surely we can say you can’t eat beef from Brazil any longer. Even if a State is able to stop industrial beef production in the tropics for all groups and people, is this really the way to create lasting social change? Swedish authoritarianism, and the state naiveté fabricated by social democracy, shines through his political theory.

Malm’s authoritarian desires continue in Corona, Climate, Chronic Emergency. Here he plays with ideas such as “mandatory global veganism”[13] and invokes the “duty” of the “richest countries” to “lead and assist a global turn to plant-based protein” to oppose the consumption of “bushmeat”[14] in other parts of the world. “Bushmeat” here, refers to how Indigenous people, farmers and low-income households hunt and subsist on local animals (e.g. rabbits, snakes, iguanas, deer, gazelle, etc.), as they have for centuries. Malm exhibits colonial hubris, meanwhile demonstrating an uncritical belief in industrial food systems and the relationships they engender.

The careless, and ultimately Eurocentric and racist, assertions by Malm are even more dumbfounding considering his credentials as a human geographer, situated at one of among Sweden’s most prestigious universities. Human geography research is famous for revealing the ecological harms of colonial land management schemes and, later, “fortress” and “community” conservation programs.[15] These programs have been largely ineffective, failing to curtail “commercial poaching” and intensifying attacks on Indigenous people, militarizing forests and regimenting ecologically destructive practices.[16] Enforcing authoritarian relationships over land, especially against so-called “subsistence poachers” – or acquiring “bushmeat” in Malm’s words – has been a resolute disaster extending colonial practices of land control, degradation and warfare into nature.[17]

This insanity extends to silence regarding the Indigenous people under constant attack by mines and wind turbines in Sweden. As Kuhn points out, Malm “does not mention the Sámi with a single word”, although they see themselves as “radical environmentalists by the very nature of their traditional livelihood”. Kuhn explains this might be because “all Swedish leftists do” this, or because it is “easier to point to struggles far away”, or even that he has “political reasons” for ignoring them (e.g. them not talking about “fossil capital”?). At the same time, he goes into great length telling of his own involvement in an action group horribly named “Indians of the Concrete Jungle”. In essence, he likes Indigenous peoples when they resist in attention-grabbing news headlines, but demonstrates radical disinterest, if not contempt, for their lifeways, culture and autonomy with his political philosophy and proposals.

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thankyouforthev3n0m · 1 day

Note

Aye, it's DubDaddy on the track

Not a rapper, but I thought I'd have a crack

Another song, another bar, another stack

We keep coming back now we're picking up the slack

Get laid, get paid, gatorade

Trigger treats sweet but can't beat the blade

It's Halloween bitch it's time to get made

You better lock up or you're gonna get slayed

Aye the boys are comin in

Got lit last night on the cherry gin

Smokin gas, eating ass, now committing sin

We going large like Amy Schumer's second chin

Hey everybody my name is JoshDub

When I don't do crime I talk shit at the club

I like corona no lime and having a tug

I get my bread no crust cause you know I'm a thug

It's Halloween, my girl cook and clean

Doing flips in the sheets, call that trick and treat

In the back of a Bentley and we got on rings

Riding in the streets shouting scary things

The Boys in town and we hunting clowns

Couple Kings with a couple crowns (dank memes)

Scaring kids while we're blowing clouds

It's Mully in the back and your bitch is getting ploughed

It's spooky and cold on this dreadful night

But we got some beauties in our sight

We love the shadows, and fear the light

But we'll steal your girl with one quick bite

On Halloween you can hear many sounds

Some screaming, some crying in the background

But if I see some kind of creepy clown

Oh you better believe it's going down

All the witches they be on me, with glee

When I walk up in a room its a party

Got no reflection but there's one thing you can see

All competition running scared as they should be

Never giving out our secrets I'm like (hush hush)

Wiping away all the haters like a (brush brush)

We be stealing all your candy in a (rush rush)

Dropping songs and videos that always (crush crush)

Got these demons in my head overwhelming me with fear and dread

(Dread dread dread)

Screaming in my bed, keep me grinding till I'm dead

(Dead dead dead)

Spirits in my mind come to visit me from time to time

(Time time time)

People say I'm sick but I swear to God I'm fine

(I'm fine, I'm fine)

Trick or Treat, excuse me what the fuck is this?

Candy corn, Bit O Honey, one Hershey Kiss

Que no sabes que me dicen el Mexorcist

If you don't know who I am, then I'll tell you what it is

Got a blanket to protect me and a wooden cross

I sprinkle holy water to show demons who's boss

I make videos to scare all the kiddos

And I'll exorcise your Tia with a bag of hot Cheetos

I shook Freddy Kruger's hand

Grow harder than the grudge

Make Pennywise float too

And give Huggy Wuggy a hug

I got good at hide and seek

You can always ask the fed

I put poison in your goat

Now that chupacabras dead

I live in the States, born in Monterey

Got a gringa by my side

She can cook some frijoles

I cross the border and la migra said

'hey, come on down but you just can't stay'

Running and hiding and walking and fighting

You don't got the papers to even be trying

To say it was easy then I would be lying

Soy un inmigrante con gran corazón

empeze recojiendo la bazura de tu escalon

Y ahora ocupo la pantallo de tu abitación

Asta parece yo tomo gasolina.

Te incendió con mi rap eso es pura adrenalina

Mi tierra la extraño nunca olvidare mi casa

Un saludo para todos mis latinos y mi raza

Now give me the Reeses cup bitch

Yada yada yada yada, something bout a square

New meme Juice Box bout to go Blair

Like the Witch, that's the sitch

Halloween night bout to wake up in a ditch.

And I'm stacking up dinero

Got this young man feeling like George Romero

Pick the bone clean always saw it in the tarots

Dig a little deeper boy you almost skipped the marrow

I don't really know

Yada yada

My goldfish took a little holiday

Left me feeling sour like that Minute Maid

One day he said he want to go to outer space

So I made a little rocket outta Gatorade bottles

Catch your grandma at the Walmart

And she gonna catch the fade

I don't really give a fuck

Im just tryna get paid

I'll smoke your grandad too

If he even looks my way

I'll kick your little sister

In her motherfucking face

That's that shit you learn in Florida

When you smoking K2

Hold that shit up in my chest

Boy I'm bout to turn blue

Im might mosey down to Target

Man and buy me that canoe

@jadest0ne

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dangara2610 · 8 months

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(4/10) Teenager and Young adult Ulla - Part 8

Hi there people 🌤️🍊🥝🌈🌾🌈🌼🥝🌾💐🌼

Here I'm trying again to do it faster and shorter

Now that Ulf leaved the nuclear family...

1.- Ulla misses her brother but makes not a fuss about it, they are not children anymore, besides, Ulf asked Ulla to make a copy of his investigation and send him back his originals, so there can be a backup and both can share their knowledge, and indeed, back in Pitchfork, she gets the work done, of course, she readed the research and got amused by how much he accomplished on his own.

2.- Later Ulla and her parents visit Corona to search for the light trial, and gets pretty easy, thanks to the local old smiths, they are also very wise and have an older son named Xavier who is committed to preserve all Demanitus knowledge they can get.

3.- Together they restore the Demanitus device in a reasonable amount of time, they are about to prepare their luagge and say goodbye next weekend, but Xavier wanted to show her something new.

4.- A super old DNA sample (a nail and a hair) supposedly from Demanitus, found on his chambers hidden on the place, and use that medieval pendulum on a map to locate someone, yes, someone with Dema's DNA , a descendant.

5.- Xavier wanted to find someoneor a team who would help him to find this person, but his parents didn't gave aprobation, that's going too far and neglect their actual jobs.

6.- They did the travel, with a silly dare, if it's a woman, Xavier will marry her, if it's a men, Ulla will marry him, if it's a child, then they would adopt she or him, if it's an old man/woman, they would build a nice friendship, unless evilness is on the soul, but that's unlikely.

7.- They travel to the Dark Kingdom, it's so awesome, and they , along with Holda and Tenax (Ulla and Ulf's parents ) start their searching for the Demanitus trial, but they are stopped by guards, looks like the place was already well preserved, clean and locked in order to avoid foreigners to reveal their leyends and ancient secrets.

8.- Due to them having no resources to make the guards think otherwise, they are deported outside the kingdom, but Ulla tells them she will go back and finish the searching of that Demanitus descendant, she will go alone so they will have it more difficult.

9.-The others will wait for her camping, she can send a help message if needed and they would aid her, so , she goes again undercover, and surprise, using the secret passages Holda her mother found with her subfloors scanner machine, she finds Donella too, who also entered undercover with her merchandise, what is she selling?

10. Don had an outburst to make clear it was not her business, but not too much later she apologies and spend some time with Ulla to talk about how much appreciated she is as an old friend, she is glad to meet her again and they should team up.

Lots of fickers had made histories about Ulla and Donella meeting Quirin together, so yeah, I can drop a while here

And yes, I imagined Quiring to be a lost offspring of Demanitus, Ulla reveals him the news, and she tries to get him into alchemy, search more about himself and his mom or dad until reaching all the genealogy three.

But he is in a state of "I won't tell a thing and I won't research either", his childhood formation was mostly about keeping royals secrets and maintain the information lowered unless he is told otherwise, so, he turns down any of Ulla -

Opus I have to go, see you around 🍓🌷🍒❄️🍓🌷🍒❄️🫐🏖️🌸🌾🌄🫐🏖️🌾🫐🍒🌄🫐❄️🏖️🌄🌄🫐🏖️🌾🫐🏖️🌄❄️🫐🪻🏖️🪻🫐🫐🌸🌊🏖️🌤️🌷🍒🍱🫐🏖️🌷🫐🏖️🌸❄️🍥🌷🍒❄️🌷🍥🍒

#varian #tangled varian #tts varian #varian the alchemist #varian tts #rta varian #rapunzels tangled adventure #varian and the seven kingdoms #hugo vat7k #vat7k #vat7k ulla #ulla vat7k #vat7k donella #donella vat7k #vat7k cyrus #cyrus vat7k #quirin tangled #tts quirin #Quiring Vat7k

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liesmyth · 2 years

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the locked tomb holiday exchange rec list (part 1)

Some favourites from a first partial skim of works posted for @tlt-holiday-exchange. Find the entire collection HERE

art fills

alecto the first!. Alecto. And she is DONE

Creation. Art of John 1:20, the man who became god and the soul who became a body.

Deities. Alecto, Gideon and Harrow in a life-and-death cycle

Dios Apate. “artwork of jod and his duplicitous sluts (in varying states of sluttery 😳)” Exactly what the summary says but HOTTER.

Hotshot. Gideon raised in Blood of Eden & cousin Pash. Two kids born into a insurgency group ought to know how to shoot a gun, right?

no John what r u drawin of ur friends!!. john is a streamer on twitch, he draws shitty smut of his friends sometimes. there are cows.

Rake In The Lake. The Untitled Goose Game crossover this fandom needed, ft. We Suffer/Juno Zeta and Mercymorn

The Eightfold. Mercymorn/Cristabel, Mercymorn’s ascension to lyctorhood

fic fills

A sucker for suicide bombers. Camilla/Pyrrha/Palamedes, NtN era. Pyrrha finds herself at a different end in another bodysharing throuple. (Rated E)

bodies. Pyrrha folds her arms. “You don’t like it,” she says. “People thinking you’re a working girl.” She laughs, a dark sound. “It’s not that different from being a cav, at the end of the day.” Or: Camilla/Pyrrha in New Rho, rated E.

each note's own appointed ghost. Corona / Ianthe; Ianthe and Coronabeth try out necromancer-cavalier roleplay in bed. Everything you’d expect from the summary and more (wink wink)

Giggle. A day before the disaster a nun spends a day taking care of the children in the Ninth House's daycare. Including one troublesome toddler. (It’s baby Gideon Nav and she’s adorable)

leftovers. Corona POV on Camilla/Palamedes, GtN era. “Coronabeth Tridentarius observes, waits, and wants what she can't have.“ (ft. implied Corona/Ianthe)

Schroedinger's Pussy. Gideon/Harrow, GtN AU. Or: in which Harrow wouldn’t recognize a sex thing if it smacked her in the pussy. Yes, it’s the pussy spanking fic

Super Secret File DO NOT OPEN. Mercymorn and Augustine rob a graveyard, but it's a RPG that John is playing. This fic is high on seven different layers of #meta, and it’s hilarious. What this fandom deserves.

telling dreams apart. Cytherea as Dulcinea seduces Gideon in Canaan House. Rated E ft. the inherent dubcon of identity issues, Cytherea pushes boundaries and has lots of fun! Gideon less so.

THE CORRUPTION OF SILAS OCTAKISERON. Silas/Mercymorn, crack pairing played completely straight. This fic is a delight, Mercymorn is ON POINT, and it frankly changed me as a person.

The Sixth's Temporary Housing Shortage. Camilla/Palamedes, getting each other off while sharing the same body. Or: The real reason Camilla won't let Palamedes peddle mediocre erotica is because he writes it about her.

Vol. 805, No. 4. Juno Zeta / Abigail / Magnus. Academic rivarly! Conference hookups! Witty POV voice! A delightful read

we both go down together. Mercy/John/Augustine immediately post Resurrection. E-rated fic that is NOT afraid to ask: Does it count as consent if it's God? ft. sexy cult shit, horny vibes, unsettling narration, stunning prose. Author... call me

we kill the flame. Palamedes/Cytherea. An alternate take on the confrontation at the end of GtN, ft. hate sex and Palamedes with a beard

[recs part 2] [exchange wrap post]

#tlt fic #fic recs #long post #trust me these are Good #tlt holiday ex 2022 #the locked tomb #tlt

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talesfromasnarkylisa · 2 months

Text

Stranded In Arendelle: Chapter 5

July 24th, 1843

Rapunzel and Nuru had tried to look for Eugene. Apparently, he was in the castle dungeon. Unfortunately, when they visited the palace the guards refused to let them know exactly where he was.

“Geez,” sighed Rapunzel, “why are they making us out to be the bad guys?”

“Welcome to my world,” snarked Nuru.

Kirsti was walking by the two women. She had visited the castle dungeons.

“Hey Kirsti,” asked Rapunzel, “any updates on Eugene?”

“I saw him in a cell somewhere,” Kirsti answered. “He was being questioned by two guards.”

Rapunzel was pissed.

“What? Why?” groaned the princess of Corona.

“Don’t know,” responded Kirsti.

Kirsti thought of a plan to find Eugene.

“Guys, I have an idea,” she told the two princesses.

“Elaborate,” stated Nuru.

“So I’ve been to the Arendlle castle dungeons quite a few times now. As a visitor, of course. I go to visit my mom. Sometimes, I either forget stuff in the jail area or forget to give something to my mom. Whenever either happens, I talk to the guards to see if they’ll let me back in. It takes some time to make negotiations, but usually they do. What I’m thinking right now is this: I’ll ask the guards to take me to my mom because I forgot something. I’ll also ask them if you two could come in as well to help me look for what I forgot.”

Rapunzel thought over the plan for a bit. It didn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Sounds great and all,” Rapunzel said, “but how close is your mom’s cell to where you last saw Eugene?”

“Close enough for me to properly see what happened to him,” Kirsti answered.

“Alright then,” Rapunzel tightened her corset. “Nuru, let’s go find Eugene.”

As soon as the Arendellian guards approved Kirsti’s request to see her mom, the three women went down to the dungeons.

…

The dungeons were surprisingly large for a castle. They consisted of multiple large rooms, each with several sets of smaller cells. Fortunately, for Rapunzel and Kirsti, there were no guards guarding the rooms they had to go through to find Eugene.

Nuru was a little disappointed she didn’t have an opportunity to negotiate with any officials to get resources for her kingdom. But considering it would make it harder to find Eugene she otherwise didn’t mind.

The 3 reached the final room they had to go through before entering where Kirsti’s mom was locked up. At this point, Kirsti eyed a wall with a cutout.

“Well,” Kirsti said, “this is unusual.”

“What is?” asked Nuru.

“There should be a door to get to the other room,” stated Kirsti. “It’s normally open. The guards are pretty confident that no one will use the connecting door to escape, as these are very hidden rooms. Opening the door allows air to flow more easily.”

Rapunzel tried to open the door. It was locked.

“They locked this thing?” she was upset.

“I guess they forgot to unlock it,” responded Kirsti.

Nuru attempted yanking the door. After about 7 minutes of exhaustion, the door finally came open. The other room also lacked guards due to it being very empty.

“Well, that’s a relief,” smiled Rapunzel.

Kirsti entered the area first to double check for guards. Her mother was a little confused as to why she was back, so she explained that she just wanted to spend a little extra time with her.

In the meantime, Rapunzel looked all over the room for Eugene. She looked to the left. No one. She looked to the right. Also no one. She went down each cell individually to check if anyone was inside. Still no one.

Eventually, Nuru found two cells with open sets of bars. The only open bar sets in the whole room.

“Rapunzel!” Nuru whispered. “People broke out!”

Rapunzel analyzed the two cells. When she looked closer at one of them, she noticed a small handkerchief. Eugene’s handkerchief. It didn’t take long for the princess to realize what had happened.

“Seems like Eugene got tired of this place real fast,” snarked Rapunzel.

(Wattpad version: https://www.wattpad.com/1465575837-stranded-in-arendelle-chapter-5)

#creative writing #story #storytelling #tumblr #tumblr stuff #crossover #writing #eugene fitzherbert #fanfic #fanfiction #rapunzel #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #tangled the series #tangled #tangled spoilers #frozen #frozen spoilers

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strykingback · 3 months

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In terms of canon-divergence what is different in your canon of RWBY with the additions of your OC's?

Okay so massive canon-divergence incoming.

Starting with Volume five.

My take on Lionheart is yes, he is a coward because he used one of the questions of the Relic of Knowledge because as stated in his bio. He was incredibly prideful and bit off more than he could chew, however despite assisting the Scions of Salem he did send the Hunters of Mistral away from Mistral discreetly after overhearing what Tyrian and Hazel plans to do with them.

Adam isnt some psychotic incel. He's lost and misguided and is prepared to do what he can to make humans understand that the Faunus will not kneel to such idiocy any more.

Raven did not kill the former Spring Maiden, but is traumatized by her death when a young Cinder had killed the Spring Maiden which was only but a child which Raven could only see Yang in her eyes therefore she would have to keep her distance from her family making Yang understand why Raven "left" and confirms why she always felt a pair of eyes around her.

Yang actually is herself from Volume 2 to 3. and doesnt treat anyone like an A-hole making puns wherever she can. Just a bit more locked in when it comes to fights or situations. Louvel, Yang, Vernal, and Raven will be fighting Cinder together but Vernal sacrifices herself to save Yang. Which Raven sees her mouth Vernals final words to her being: "Be a good mother to her." as this sends Raven into a fury prompting in herself and Yang getting injured but not enough to take them out of the fight. Louvel unleashes his fury on Cinder which results in him getting a fatal injury but he unlocks his passive semblance which results in an opening being given to Yang and Raven to finish Cinder off as Mother and Daughter.

Salem makes an appearance not by Emeralds semblance going into overdrive and "congratulates" the reunited RWBY and BLCK for gaining one of the Relics..but confirms that the real battle begins her. as Louvel passes out from the pain hitting him all at once as he was in an adrenlaine rush.

Volume 6: No Race to Atlas Arc yet. Buuuut. Louvel, Sun, Yang, Ilia, Lie-Ren, and Blade travel to the Neo-Shinbaori base to repair Louvels damaged katana.

Corona, Blake, Ruby, Weiss, Nora, Kazura, Outsider and Pyrrha travel to Mistrals criminal underground to end a war for supremacy over the criminal underground.

Volume 7- RWBY, SPNL, and BLCKOUT all get separated Yang, Louvel, Ruby, Blade, Qrow, and Ozpin/Oscar along with Maria all find out the truth behind Ozpin with Ozpins consent.

Ozpin confirms that he seeks to finally be free from the cycle of life and death and how he had to see many generations of Hunters who he gave the Special Mission to fall.. except for Summer Rose who came incredibly close.

Sun, Pyrrha, Nora, Lie-Ren, Corona, Kazura, Weiss, Blake, and Hermes are rescued by Cashmere and is taken to the Ruins of Light where they meet the Titan of Benevolence Exaltia. As she explains Ozpins past and how she knows him. WHile at the same time she and Cashmere heals Hermes of his mind. May do a drabble about that.

Maria actually teach Ruby more about her Silver Eyes powers and reveals that using too much of its power is risky.

Ruby and friends are confronted by Colonel Cordovin but the General of Argus explains that due to a massive Grimm being around Argus all travel to Atlas has been cut-off until further notice. Which prompts Ruby and friends to try and help as best as they can and after a few days they are confronted by one of the Seats of Vanity, Orochi.

Who beats them all down and states that he just nees to do is make a sound loud of enough to awaken the Titan udnerneath Argus which he summons Perseus the Titan of the Seas.

this prompts Colonel Cordovin into fighting.

Sorry I may need to make another post for this.

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astrxlfinale · 6 months

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"Such words of indecency in public, Caelus? Tsk." Lips hovered ever so tantalizingly close to his skin, as if her mere breath could mark the words that had rested on her tongue to the line of his jaw. "Know some discretion." And at their abandoned stray from it, the tip of an index finger would come to graze the contour of that countenance instead, allowing her lipsto reach the outline of his temple, "—propriety," and further still as fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, her grip tightening to the white cotton only inches from that neckline she'd craved too often to count. Her breath to the shell of his ear then was warm, the soft curve of her smile barely pressing to the skin to its side. "Tact, mm?" Perhaps there, amidst this whispered caress that had drawn her lips back to his jawline, she'd cross a threshold, but only barely so, leaving herself caught in this temporary ache to touch, to lean in just that bit closer, almost as if in reverence. "Modesty." And as if enveloped to chase a thread of fate itself down the slope of a cheekbone, they hovered ever so near his lips, with certain delight still painted recklessly on her own, adorned in prudence as it was. There was always a certain class about her, after all, especially— "Ah-ah, Mr. Sly hands, you weren't quite invited yet," when the lightest tap condemned those straying hands at her back.

Caught and captured. Being the brazen brand of shameless nature held perks of the most unseen variety. If he did hold consciousness to that fact, it was melted away by the velvet grace of a playful tone. There would be no regret etched onto his features, far from it, for the lack of distance allowed their treasured closeness to be wholly embraced. His arms couldn't resist welcoming one of this universe's sweetest entities into his embrace. Many would prefer to use danger, blight, a terror.

Caelus truly did not give a damn if they never understood, he does.

Hiking underneath her luxurious coat, the warm, battle worn state of those hands would hike comfortably along her sides as they met eye to eye, for an instant, requiring that foundation as the soothing melody of her voice whisked him away. Nirvana awaited and here she was donning every key, being the very concept itself as such 'punishing' words caused the smile of a devil to be brandished that much wider. That forthright nature found itself utterly challenged by the nature of her adoration, that sight of her inviting neckline causing pearly whites to nip against his lip, only for that attention she draws with the 'lesson' to proceed to melt the goddamn hell out of his mind. For the Trailblazer this is where her danger lies. The way she holds mastery on the barriers between, borders, distance and how shamelessly they were used to simultaneously goad and tempt all the same. Just as those hands descend down to Kafka's sides, it'd be that clutch that brings such an electrifying pause, two versions of ivory cloth grasped, possessively tucked within their hands as that honeyed whisper proceeds to phase all of reality from his senses. That focus of this savior heightens, concentrating it upon the dance of violet as his head briefly tilts back. Roaring within his veins was the need to rebel, to carefully abide, all in the good name of ensuring this same fiery current was cast to her veins with the same potent ferocity.

"Aren't I just the worst?" His voice was enriched with that personalized tint, the reserved brand that only Kafka is familiar with as a hum of delight rumbles within his chest.

Dual coronas would be the golden prominence that's locked with her gaze, that only heightened the torrents of hunger being further enticed by the second. Beautiful. That felt like one of the closest words confined to language to even describe her. Both voice and the fainted tinge of her lips had caused that wild heart to bask in the position of being her 'problem case.' For those hands worked further down, pressing flat against her body, initiating enough contact to perceive the glide that drew across her curves, allowing the crescent majesty of that delectable arch as an eager threshold is met.

The hipline, grounds they were terribly familiar with within the good name of their relationship. Unlike the master of boundary, Caelus's weakness served as his strength, the way a shaken sigh gradually spills from his lips, calling to that very dare at the mere thought of allowing his hands to be bestowed with the grace of her luscious gem of an ass as a thought that 'plagued' the mind, that danced with fantasy and certainly played upon the boundaries of reality in their growing amount of times to count.

His fingertips would raise along with heated palms, those fingers arching at the mere idea of just being able to grasp two shameless handfuls. To savor that proximity, the battle between fabric and flesh, to allow that fullness to be secured and bouncing within his supportive grip. Despite the fire on his face, those expectant, lavender eyes concentrated upon him, the avid explorer would dare to make that descent that intends to introduce her into the depths of his shamelessness.

Only for that low oh! to echo out, being met with her swift answer.

For he utterly lacked modesty, propriety found itself sinking and the idea of tact held the closest chance within this very moment. However, with the grace of its fellow conditions, of course 'momentary' damnation was inevitable.

It prompts a husky chuckle from Caelus as the view of Kafka's face enraptured him anew. Keeping true to being an apt listener, those hands would work back up, one joining a place upon her hip, as another work a sweeping brush along that direct curve of the spine.

"Much as you know that I get lost in you?" Distance would be rendered null as he'd close it, allowing those hot lips to ghost the corner of those painted lips, gracing that tinge of friction that always made those powerful hands clutch against his frame. "All these wishes of mine that'cha carry--" Modesty. Modesty. That should be the grounds to abide by after her mention, even now as his lips empowered with the grace of friction of a soft brush of a near ghostly kiss. Gradually did those eyes hone in, remaining half-lidded as the sight of her welcomed expectation was the ambrosia he ached for.

"You're just the sweetest."

For Caelus, there was no other need for language at this moment. This time the pressure was received in full, silver glimmers of hair meshing against her devouring pool of violet as he'd bring her close, using that press of the hands to keep Kafka flush against him, the warmth of their bodies united as he steals a kiss from the Stellaron Hunter. Above all else, the goal of seizing their fate ran as an unstoppable force within body and soul. To hear the joy in her sighs, groans that symbolized more.

Being able to hold her in such a way never failed in enacting this boundless desire as a torch in her name. A measure of softer kisses in between, of a firmer, more intent rich follow up ensuring the apt positioning of their heads, allowing it to deepen with vigor as a shameless groan melts against Kafka's lovely lips. It was inevitably that barriers would be crossed, that their playful moment was a prelude, and within this moment?

Ensuring she felt utterly appreciated in her whimsy being enacted upon.

Aeons did she taste divine.

@araneitela

#araneitela #| Shuttle Mail #suggestive tw #That brings the question #Does Kafka know what she started up?

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lefemmerougewriter · 7 months

Text

The Corona Blues: Cass the Space Pirate, Her Blue-Eyed Pirate Girlfriend, and Raps' Momentous Choice

Summary: After a mask mandate and lockdown are imposed in the Kingdom of Corona, in response to a contagious "invisible" virus spreading, citizens are restless and hostile toward Raps, as their sovereign. Varian vows to stay behind and help the citizenry, while Raps leaves. She wants to clear her head. Later, while her sketchbook dries, she wades into a stream and falls in thanks to tremors from a nearby spaceship landing. A decorated lieutenant, and accomplished space pirate, comes to save her. The woman has a familiar face, with her mahogany pigment shining in the sun. Its none other than Cass. After meeting Cass's new pirate girlfriend, the captain of a massive spacefaring vessel, Raps makes a far-reaching decision which will impact not only Cass and her girlfriend, but herself and the people of Corona thereafter.

Characters: Marika Kato, Rapunzel, Cassandra, Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert, Misa Greenwood, Kane McDougal, Coorie, Hyakume, Schnitzer, San-Daime, Luca

Friendships: Rapunzel & Pascal (former?)

Romantic pairings: Rapunzel / Cassandra (former?), Cassandra / Marika Kato

Words: 4000+

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36110716/chapters/136737880

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1425409282-the-corona-chronicles-cass-the-space-pirate-her

Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/story/14508344/The-Corona-Chronicles/2

A/N: Sorry that it's been over two years since my last update! I really wanted to publish this a while ago, but a lot was happening in my life. There were preparations for a trip to Italy throughout 2022, even as I still wrote eight fics (like those in the High Guardian Space series) primarily at the beginning and end of the year. And then I moved into a new place in March 2023. With that on top of job stresses, it took until the end of last year for things to settle down. When I wrote the first chapter in December 2021, I had no idea about what was going to happen in the years ahead. I may end up writing a third part. This chapter sets the stage for a possible third part. As a reminder, in this story, Cass is a Black woman.

Work Text:

Back in the castle, Raps was pacing once again. She had locked the castle building and prohibited anyone from entering. She made a snap decision she'd go out into the city, among the people. She couldn't be cooped up forever. Varian wanted to know if she really wanted to pursue this course of action or not. "Are you sure about this?" She nodded. She needed to hear what the people had to say. She was their sovereign... after all. This made Varian very afraid. He had heard people's anger toward her. He realized she had to experience it first-hand. Both put their handmade masks. Varian wore a black cloth mask, with black straps. Raps wore a purple and yellow mask, with intricate designs, that she had colored herself. She would not be content with a single color, as she liked vibrancy.

As she walked out of the castle, and locked the door behind her, she got a taste of this anger first-hand. One onlooker heckled her. "Boo!" he shouted. He then pointed. "YOU got be the virus!" Unfazed by this clear lie, she continued moving forward. Varian used his alchemist staff to trap the person in amber. No dissent to the royalty would be allowed. Most in the town followed the posted ordinances, but some did not.

Those who refused to abide by the regulations had started to come together, loosely, into a grouping they called the Anti-Rapunzel Alliance, or ARA for short. Those who led the organization did not believe in any governmental system, state, or anything like that. They didn't even think of themselves as leaders, claiming the group was "leaderless," another lie that anyone could see through very easily. They called themselves anarkhists. They would always be a thorn in the side of Raps, especially after the passing of her parents a year prior from old age. The ARA had been annoying Raps for years. She was aware of their violent activities. She did not worry about them. She did not see them as representative of the people. That sentiment was accurate, even though their support was growing every day.

She was jeered and booed as she walked through the city. People did not feel she had done enough to protect them from what was being dubbed the "Corona-Ailment," or ca for short. She shared their sentiments since she did not know if she had done enough or if more could be done. She wracked her brain with these questions every day. The ca crisis was always at the top of her agenda. She was exhausted, tired of running the city, and the kingdom, almost entirely by herself. She wished that Eugene had been there, as he had gone on a voyage to one of their allies across the sea, specifically to Avalor. Instead, she had to do this without him. She sighed.

The viciousness and nastiness toward her by those in Corona had deeply affected her. Varian expected this would happen. This is why he hoped she'd decide to stay inside the castle. This belief was misplaced. If he had known Raps as well as he thought he did, then he'd be aware that she liked to take risks, no matter the costs. Some people in her position would cry. Her emotional strength allowed her to weather heavy criticism, at least in this case. Sometimes Pascal would help her through this. She couldn't even rely on him this time. She had left him in her room, letting him sleep away without bringing him with her.

She turned to her trusty confidante, her royal science advisor, and royal scientist. "You can go back to the castle, Varian. I want to be alone." He didn't want to leave. He felt obligated to help her, especially since he had caused so much trouble for her in the past. Back then, he almost overthrew the government. Even still, she justified her response, at the time, noting that she only pushed away his pleas for help because of pressing demands on her as the royal queen of Corona. She couldn't spare anyone back then. "I…want to stay," he remarked. She shook her head. She wouldn't let him do that. "LEAVE!" she shouted and pointed back at the castle. She glared into his eyes. He cowered and turned around. He did not want to cross her. He realized that giving her some space was the right thing to do.

As he crossed the bridge and walked toward Corona, and the royal castle, Raps went the opposite way. She had to clear her head for a bit. She wanted to sit by the stream and watch the water cascading across the rocks. That always calmed her down, even when times were tough. It made her feel better about herself. She found a nice spot: a rock which overlooked a bubbling stream. She then pulled out her watercolor paints and sketchbook. Every day, week, and month, she believed that her art had improved.

In the past, she had disguised herself as "Robin Rap," putting on a mask, fake wig and beard, and a robe with a hood. She secretly set out art displays in the street during the night. This led to curiosity and excitement from those across Corona and the nearby lands. However, since ca had begun spreading, she hadn't taken on the persona, perhaps contributing to lower spirits among the populace. It made them more prone to feelings of utter despair, hopelessness, and anger toward her. Not everyone in Corona liked her as the monarch, in part due to her gender. Others saw it as a step forward to have a break from a line of male rulers which went back eons.

She yawned and stretched, leaving the sketchbook out to dry. If she put it away now, it would ruin not only the page she had sketched but also others inside the book as well. She walked into the stream bed and sensed the cold-water coursing through her toes. She wished she could stay here all day. This place of bliss would not last forever. Out of nowhere, tremors from something far away, shook the ground. It caused her to shake. The reverberations came ever closer, becoming so strong that she lost her balance and fell into the streambed.

She complained. "Fuck! My dress is all wet now…UGH!" she yelled. Trying to regain her balance, she slipped on a rock, and hit the stream with a thud. She began to cry. Even a queen could be taken down by something as small as a rock with moss on it. "Help! Won't someone please help me!" she shouted into the distance. She half-believed that no one would lift a finger for her. She resolved to give it five minutes, then she'd crawl out of the stream on her own. It was a time like this that she wished Eugene had been there, or anyone else who could be just as loving. The latter seemed very unlikely.

She sat as the water passed around her, through her soaked clothes. She grumbled and had given up. Suddenly, a woman dressed, in a what looked to be a fancy lieutenant's uniform, with epaulets on the shoulders, and a sword on the belt, approached her. She outstretched her hand, its mahogany pigment shining in the light. "Let me help you, Ma'am," the voice bellowed. Raps looked up. It was none other than Cass, whose mahogany skin almost sparkled. She blushed. She was surprised that Cass was there and even more embarrassed that she had to be helped out of this... unfortunate situation. Perhaps they could start again, with a healthier relationship. After all, Cass was an independent woman now. Raps had no power over her, unlike in the past, when she has been employed as a lady-in-waiting, a servant, and handmaiden all-in-one. It was a master-servant relationship. Cass had obliterated that when she subsumed the Moonstone's power into her own body, wanting to determine her own destiny. Although her motives were justified, her actions could be extreme and destructive, thanks to Zhan Tiri's mental manipulation.

"Cass…is that you?," Raps asked inquisitively. She nodded. "Yes, and I'm here to save you…princess, I mean...queen." She pulled her out of the riverbed and onto the dry land. Cass chuckled. "I didn't know you’d get so wet before you saw me…that must have been quite an experience." Shamefaced, Raps pounded against Cass, clearly annoyed. Her face was the color of a ripe tomato. "Come on, that’s not fair…," she said. They had a good laugh together and Cass helped Raps get up. Looking at her clothes, she remarked, "That's quite a look for a member of the royalty…what would the people of Corona think if they saw their queen drenched to the bone?" This comment got to Raps too, who pouted in response.

She quickly regained her composure. She grabbed her now-dried sketchbook and smiled. Before she could say anything, Cass interjected. "I'll bring you to my ship…there's some dry clothes there." She nodded curiously. Her...friend now had…a vessel…under her command? She thought that Cass would be some lone wanderer, or something. At least that's what she expected. Even so, she did not know what was in store for her. Originally the plan had been to bring a fleet of medical ships to the surface. Marika had called them back to the starship, saying that she and Cass would survey the situation first, then report back.

They reached the dinghy, sitting in a nearby field, with the cockpit closed, so no miscreants got inside. She saw a pinkish orange-haired woman dressed in space pirate regalia leaning against the ship. "Hey, Cassie," she began. Pointing at Raps, she asked, "who's that you have there?" Raps started to say something. Cass spoke first. "This is my friend…Rapunzel Fitzherbert, you know, from Corona, whose distress call we got on the Bentenmaru." Marika understood but was confused. Was this woman really a queen? She didn’t get the vibe from her at all. Perhaps it was the wet clothes. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Fitzherbert. I'm Marika Kato, the captain of the Bentenmaru…and I’m Cass’s friend." Cass rolled her eyes. "Girlfriend. She's MY girlfriend." Raps was surprised. In a year's time she had gotten a girlfriend and...her own ship to command! Cass had been busy... in her estimation.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Kato. You can call me…Rapunzel or Raps. I'm not really about all these formal titles." Marika chuckled. She shook Raps' hand. "Nice to make your acquaintance too. Cassie told me about you…in fact, she's the one who pushed us to come here." That was only half-true. Cass and Marika had jointly agreed to come there, not one of them deciding it on their own. Knowing that Raps probably had feelings for Cass, she thought it would be better this way, since it could allow them to reconnect better. Although Cass knew that Marika wasn't being entirely truthful, she let it slide, this time. "Yeah, that’s what happened," she said sheepishly. After that, Cass opened up the cockpit of the dinghy, and showed her where the spare (and clean) clothes were. She even got her a bag for her wet clothes, which she'd dry later. Since Cass had left, Raps had started doing more tasks by herself, without servants.

It's awkward to be with a girl you once loved and... their new girlfriend. So, she tread very carefully. She didn't want to cause any problems for Cass or for herself, for that matter. Even so, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing. And Marika noticed. She watched Raps like a hawk. Although she had only been with Cass for about a year, she could be somewhat jealous, especially since Cass was her first girlfriend. Surely, at the academy, girls had fawned over her, like no one's business. Once she helped her friend get together with her lover, also a girl, on a mission that involved the entire Bentenmaru crew. It was a huge endeavor, to say the least. All of this colored what was happening at the present.

Raps eased the tension pretty quickly. She decided to confide in them about what was going on. "I'd like to get away from here, away from it all...things are not going well in Corona." Cass was surprised. What could have gone wrong? She was unsure. "There's this contagious virus that’s spreading...and people are getting restless. No one is helping me combat it...at all." Her latter statement was somewhat untrue, as Varian had done his part to help her. This made Cass and Marika even more curious. Rather than Cass getting in a word, Marika asked a question. "So…can we catch this virus?...I don't wanna make my crew sick." Raps moved her head from side-to-side. She had to tell the truth. "I guess so. The number of cases have been rising...it's not that many yet. I mandated a lockdown and that everyone wear cloth masks to protect themselves. It has made people very angry at me. Even Varian refused to leave."

She stamped her foot on the ground and gritted her teeth. This situation had brought back her fears about being a ruler. She didn't think there was anything else she could do. Perhaps it would be better if she wasn't there at all. She grabbed Marika's hand. "Can you please take me with you into space?" she pleaded. "I really don't want to be on this planet anymore. I have to get away." Marika wasn't sure this was a good idea. She looked toward Cass. She needed her approval before agreeing to Raps' request. Cass asked Raps directly, "Are you sure you want to do this? If we take you with us, we might not be back for a while." She nodded.

They all packed themselves into the dinghy's cockpit. Although most dinghies were single-person, this one had seats for up to three people. Marika closed the visor and told everyone to strap themselves in. Raps and Cass easily followed her instructions. Pressing some buttons, the engine began to roar, and the ship quickly took off. The landing wheels retracted and they went soaring through the sky. Raps was amazed. As they flew up through the air and above the trees, their ship passed by the island kingdom of Corona and over the Bay of Corona. A small schooner arrived in the island’s port. A young twenty-six year-old man, with light skin and short brown hair, was aboard.

Cass turned to Marika. She asked, "you wanna play THAT song?" She smiled. That was fine with her. Pressing a button, a tray came out of the console. She pulled out a transparent plastic case, adorned with a paper cover of a black-haired and pink-skinned woman wearing a black t-shirt, black-pants, and holding a guitar with a black strap around her body. A black heart was behind the woman and two words stood out on the cover: "Bad Reputation." This three-part case, made from a synthetic polymer, had liner-notes, and a back card. The two sides were hinged together. She carefully pulled out a reflective thick thermoplastic disk. It was adorned with images of the same woman, but in a circular fashion. The disc itself the following words: "Bad Reputation – Joan Jett – 2012 Re-Issue." Cass had picked it up when she and Marika went to a flea market, as some called it, during their travels.

Putting the disc in, she pressed another button. The tray retracted. She pressed a third button, looking like a small rightward facing arrow. It had one small word: "Play." Like magic, the music began playing out of speakers, although Raps wasn't sure from where, as any speakers seemed invisible. Cass and Marika began singing along. Raps started to get in the mood of it too.

"I don't give a damn 'bout my reputation / You're living in the past, it's a new generation / A girl can do what she wants to do / And that's what I’m gonna do!"

As the song began playing, they all sang along. Their voices were so loud that people could hear them on the island below. One of those people was the brown-haired man whose boat had arrived on the island's docks: Eugene Fitzherbert. His light brown eyes spotted the dinghy flying through the sky. He saw a woman with blonde hair inside. He was taken aback. "Blondie?" he asked confusedly. He wondered why the woman he loved was speeding away from the planet at a high rate of speed. He didn't even recognize Cass, nor he did know who the other woman inside the ship (Marika) was. People across Corona, including Varian, looked up at the sky in amazement.

In no time at all, the dinghy made its way through the atmosphere and into outer space. It came close to a massive starship, which was painted in a mix of black and magenta colors. The vessel had a cylinder-shaped main body and a coned bow, a design often used with rockets. The ship's emblem and name were on the side: Bentenmaru. There were four fins on the rear. As they came closer, Marika spoke into a receiver. "We’re coming back. Our mission has concluded. No need to bring any additional ships at this time. And we have one new passenger." A woman with little tone in her voice answered: "Affirmative."

This was Luca. She often did not interact with her fellow crewmates and only commented on her work. Her voice's tone usually remained the same unless when she was really stressed out. At times, she could irritate crewmates by saying she saw something but when she was asked about it, she wouldn't reveal it. Other times, she claimed she saw something but when asked, she said she told them nothing. Her attitude differed from the friendly and supportive medic (Misa), the laid-back and friendly helmsman (Kane), the fairly friendly and often amused radar/sensor specialist (Hyakume), and the fairly relaxed electronic warfare specialist (Coorie).

Soon after docking, Marika jumped out of the ship, followed soon by Cass and Raps. She brought them to the vessel's bridge, which had two levels. They entered through the upper level. The lower level had the steering wheel and consoles where crew members could steer the ship; examine radar, sensors, and engines, or conduct so-called "electronic warfare." During battles, the upper level lowered, and shutters blocked out the windows, with the view outside the ship shown on a visual display on the ceiling. That wouldn't be happening... this time. Marika spoke first. "I'd like to introduce our honored guest, Queen Rapunzel of Corona." Misa smiled. Kane remarked, "this might be nothing like your home, Miss...however, we'll treat you well, don't you worry." Hyakume laughed. He was just as friendly toward her as Misa and Kane. "This isn't the first time we’ve transported royalty, but hey, why not another royal?"

Coorie looked up from her screen. She turned toward Raps in a friendly manner. The other crew members were unsure about their new guest. Schnitzer remained stern and serious as always. San-Daime, often worrisome and pessimistic, was anxious. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Won't someone come to get her...and we'll be in trouble?" Cass put them at ease. They listened to her. After all, she was the lieutenant and she was close to Marika, who they deeply respected. "It's fine. Don't worry about it. This was her choice to come here and we should honor that." Everyone seemed to accept that reasoning. Raps interjected jubilantly. "Thanks everyone. I'm glad to be here." She had one more thing to say, something which would surprise them all.

"I have two more requests, if you'll indulge me." They were listening intently. This would be hard to explain. "I assume you have weapons on this vessel, right?" They nodded in agreement. "Well, I'd like you to destroy a stone bridge for me. It''s the last thing I'll do for Corona. Then, I'd like to send a message to Corona...through that radio thing." They agreed to both requests. They seemed easy enough to execute her requests. Walking down the stairs, she came close to Hyakume, skilled at radar and sensors. After guiding him to exact location of the target, he sent her over to Schnitzer, the ship's tactical officer. He was standing-in as the gunner. Usually they had other gunners, but not on this mission. He maneuvered the front-pulse weapon into position. He pressed a button and a powerful blue laser beam fired from the ship’s nose. It traveled at supersonic speed. It hit the bridge's middle with almost exact precision.

The weapon unintentionally ignited dynamite which some angry citizens had set as part of their plan to overthrow the government. The bridge exploded into a million pieces, with stone flying every which way, including into the island kingdom. Some people could barely escape the falling stone. Even the ARA, undoubtedly seen as the culprits whether they were involved or not, was worried about the results of this explosion.

A static crackle filled the air. A voice began speaking to the surprise of the citizens:

"Hello, this Queen Rapunzel. As you can see from the recent explosion, I am cutting off the kingdom of Corona from the mainland. I cannot let this virus spread any further. This is for your own good. As my last act as sovereign, I am appointing Varian as my successor. I believe in him and hope that you all put your trust in him. Thank you."

Everyone in Corona was surprised. Wasn't Eugene next in line? Has she abandoned them? Did she have any loyalty to her subjects? All these questions, and others, rattled in the minds of the citizens as a riot began to break out. People grabbed torches, pitchforks, and any weapon they could find, throwing them in royal buildings. They approached the castle in huge numbers. This unorganized demonstration was not the work of the ARA. It stemmed from the fury of the citizens. The royal guards tried to hold people back. They could barely hold the line. Varian came out of the front doors. Although he knew the citizens were angry, he remained dumbstruck in this situation. He didn't know what to do.

Suddenly, Eugene stepped forward. He believed this was the time for a strong-hand, decisive leadership. He wasn't sure Varian could do this. Coming close, he whispered into Varian's ear, "kid, let me take this." He responded in a low-pitch that only Eugene could hear. "I didn’t want this responsibility anyway, so take it." He closed the door and walked back inside. Eugene addressed the hastily assembled crowd. "I talked with Varian. I'm the one in charge now. I’m sorry that Rapunzel left us behind. I will lead us back to glory." What he said next he came up with on the spot. It was totally spontaneous, at least it appeared. "As my first act, the mask mandate and lockdown are hereby ended. Let us make Corona great again!" The crowd cheered wildly. Masks were pulled off and burned by their torches. People began chanting "Eugene! Eugene! Eugene!" He did not know what he was getting himself into.

Back on the Bentenmaru, Cass led Raps to a spare cabin. "You can sleep here, Raps. See you tomorrow morning." She smiled. Everything was going as she had hoped. While she would have liked Pascal there with her, she wanted to start fresh, at least this time. He would be better without her. In fact, he would have questioned her rash decision. Perhaps her view would change in the future. For now, she needed to get away from it all, and that included Pascal. She was ready and willing to become a space pirate, just like Cass had done years ago. However, there would be some awkwardness since it had been so long since she and Cass had been together.

It was hard to say what remained next for Corona or for Cass, Raps, Marika, and other crew members on the Bentenmaru. But it would surely be written in the stars.

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ashenvein-gate · 1 year

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Kessug's Lab

The counter's iron-grooved edge squeals under my talons. This stupid place. This stupid, stupid place! It's all built to purpose on the Queen's orders. Cold stone engraved with purely utilitarian runes, a network hidden away beneath Ekraith Mountains. Just one more laboratory...

I wasn't...

A tear of violet coronas, whistling mirage-like distortion, falls from a goldenfire eye onto the iron, unraveling a crater of wispy smoking strands.

I wasn't supposed to start thinking of it as home. But I have. I've spent years here studying our enemies.

Every alembic and retort, every construct from the crystal-tipped arms enchanted to pull apart and unravel essences, to the memory-condenser and integrated crystal array used to study recorded battles. The vaulted halls, the barracks staffed by my assigned personal guard...

At some point or other between my duties, I've taken a tumble in every last bunk of that long squat chamber, squirmed and squealed and clawed my affections into every single soldier in places from their own mattresses, to up against the walls, to the laboratory rooms themselves.

That... started as the Queen's own orders. "An unfed succubus stutters sluggish," she chided, pricking my brow with her talon. "Feed well, my young maershal. Learn to enjoy yourself. You shall find it less onerous than you fear."

Much as I bristled inside, she was right. After overcoming my own insecurities, I came to find it... thrilling. To pivot at the wiggle of a brow from teasing out the existential secrets of a new world, to moaning and writhing as lust washed out every other thought... it took months for me to name that sensation, but it's a familiar comfort to me now. "I am a witch-succubus. This is my place, this is what I should be doing." This refuge, this sanctuary of fell insights, has nurtured as much discovery of myself as the world we infiltrated.

Of course I came to know it for my home. Of course I've grown... attached.

"Kes? Kes!"

Bezheug's voice at last cuts through my stupor. Shaking myself, green face and bosom soaked with violet warp-tears and blackly-acidic demonic snot, I look to her.

Smiling a line between sympathetic and awkward, she hefts the box of vials in her arms, filled with half-expended essence. "Where do you want these?"

Mopping my eyes on a violet gown's sleeve, I point to a spiral stairway at the back of the lab. "Dump them in the escape-way."

It frowns. "Kessug, you worked hard on these blends, you were still trying to perfect half of them--"

"Just..." I sniffle. "Please just let it go. I can't bear to draw this out one minute longer than I must."

Bez frowns harder, waiting to see whether I change my mind.

"... take out the third and fifth vials on the near side," I finally amend, "and the four directly in the center. Put them in one of the stasis-lock containers. Throw the rest into the escape-way."

She nods, hurrying to do my bidding, and returns after a few minutes. "What now?" it asks.

I beckon her with urgent finger-flexes. "First, come here." She obliges, giving me the solid height of her, the muscular heat of its arms and toned black breast.

Everyone down here is my lover. Only Bez is my beloved.

I learn into her, arms thrown around her shoulders as I sniffle into her neck. "You read the final brief I passed along?"

"That the High King is declaring victory?" it murmurs, stroking my onyx-flow mane. "We all did."

"It's a farce!" I mutter. "Victory over whom? Their world is falling apart, and we aren't even the primary cause!"

The High King of the Crusade by the Divine Undivided, sole mortal sovereign of this world, somehow infuriated so many of the crusader vassal-states that the war between their gods is tearing the world apart. Responding to this, the Queen has bid us withdraw. She deems this collapse more than enough amusement, and wishes to watch from afar as the mortals devour themselves in paranoid infighting. And that means I am leaving it behind, my little home.

"What do you suppose will happen to her?" I murmur, drawing back from Bez. "The songstress from the tavern on the cliffside?" I went to check it two days ago, that little village. A mortal woman used to sing there, such a beautiful bright voice. It often lured me hither. It was utterly abandoned. No signs of struggle. Likely they all packed up to go... somewhere.

"I never did find it in me to sit down with her and talk like I wanted," I confess.

Bez hugs me. "Maybe you and she will meet again, somehow."

"Perhaps." I sniffle again. "It's ridiculous of me... I never knew her, not really. I but liked her voice, and the songs she sang, and she existed near to the place I called home, for a while..."

"Kes," Bez soothes, "you do not have to justify what you feel. Not with me."

"Thank you..." I close my eyes, drifting in her scent and her warmth, until at last I feel ready to pull away. "Let's finish things here. Some time in Machrae Diir will do me good. Help to put..." I wave a hand at this place which soon shall cease to be. "... put this in perspective."

Bez nods. We kiss, break away, and pick up the pace. When the time comes to open a portal of coruscating star-flesh and return to the lambent halls, I hesitate on the threshold. It lies within my power, grown as I am, to take the whole lab away. And at first I mean simply to savor the fantasy and then let it pass, but the more I picture it, the more my longing grows.

I did not have the chance to make my mark on this world as I first meant to, to wander its cities, sneak into the dreams of its people. Those things were meant to come later, after we understood and felt ready to act, after the Queen unleashed us in full upon its lands. We never quite found our moment before it all toppled on its own. But the things I made here, the days I spent here, still belong to me, and I will keep what remains precious.

So I stretch forth my hand, and from it flow the violet waves of my power. A spiraling suction, a silver-edged distortion, blurring lines, colors, matter and pulling them over the portal's threshold, drawing rough subterranean stone closer and closer until only solid rock remains.

"You know," Bez says dryly, "you could've decided to do that before you had us pack everything up." I stick my tongue out, and busy myself stitching together essence-waves to help my little haven blend into Machrae Diir. The first pieces of my domain within the domain... such are the wages of chaos. We do not always gain what we hoped to, but we always gain something, so long as we can find it within us just to reach out and take it.

I stretch languidly, and beckon to my former underlings. "Come, kindred--there's a festival on somewhere!"

So capering, flying, snarling and laughing and singing the night, arm in arm and wing to wing, we slip away into the fertile darkness, seeking whatever frightful delights it may bring until the time comes for another realm to know our touch. I wonder... which will it be?

#ashenvein gate #demons #writing #the twin spirals mythos

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justawolf17 · 1 year

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A Moms Story

Hi everyone,

I ask myself what am I doing here? What am I doing with my life? When I was young, I seemed to have everything figured out, but what I didn't know was just how my life would actually turn out. I wasn't a great student; I always had a problem with authority and being told what to do. I've had an attitude my whole life and thought I knew EVERYTHING. Here I am 33 years old and now know I never knew squat. I graduated high school just barley, I failed 2 required test that was needed to receive my diploma and when I walked across that stage on what should be your first proudest accomplishment, I was given a piece of paper instead of a diploma stating I still needed to take the required test to complete my schooling. I went back to summer school as a "graduated" senior to finish these testing's, wait weeks and then did I receive an actual diploma. I thought I was on top of the world then. 18 years old and now no one can tell me what to do. I started college but since I wasn't a great student and I had more flexibly now and no mom making me to go to school I fell behind, missed too much class and couldn't catch back up so I quit... a feeling that become too easy for me. I went to work and through the years continued to quit when things felt too hard. I partied to hard, fired from jobs, tried going back to school a few more times and quit each and every time. I struggled my whole life, and it all goes back to that moment I first quit at something.

At 28 years old I become a mom, there is no feeling in the world to compare to that first breath your child breathes, that breathe of relief that they are okay. Then sets in reality, it is no longer just you anymore, it's you being able to provide for a child who is helpless and depending on you to feed, change, bath and cloth them every second of everyday. I tried going back to work 8 weeks after my son was born, he stayed home with his dad while I worked and when he was old enough, he went to daycare and that feeling of leaving your child with people you do not know just took over me. I decided to quit my job and become a stay-at-home mom. That was the best years of my life. I was there every day for my son, from the minute he woke up until he went to bed. He is my best friend. However, money doesn't grow on trees and with 1 income and 3 people to support my husband struggled and we struggled. We did what most of Americans do and that is look to the government for assistance. We were given WIC for formula, food stamps for food, and Medicaid for myself and my son. I grew up struggling, living in bad neighborhoods since that's all my mom could afford, I refused to raise my kids in that same environment yet here we were living the same life. We had some moments things were okay and great but more moments of struggling and crying.

At age 30 I had our second son, reality set in again, we now have a family of 4 to support. How are we going to do this? How are we going to afford the things we need. My second son was born 2 months before the corona virus pandemic took over and everyone was on lock down and jobs were not hiring, people were getting let go, many people died, and the world wasn't the same. Here we were with a 2-year-old and a newborn in the midst of a worldwide shut down. My husband had lost his job and was taking many odd jobs just to keep us afloat. We also at one point got evicted from our home but luckily, we made the rent just in enough time and made it through our lease. Times have been tough for us, but times are also tough for the rest of the world. I think when you become a parent all you want is to give your children the life you never had. The life they deserve. I don't write this blog for anyone to feel sorry for us. We are 3 years later, and I can't say we are perfect, but we are better than we were 3 years ago and isn't that what life should be like? Continue to grow and lean? We trusted in God, and he's always prevailed and granted us with many things in life and HE continues to bless us daily.

If you've made it this far, I thank you. I am now 33 years old, working a part time night job to avoid daycare cost for my 3-year-old while my husband works days. I have found something to keep myself busy during the day to bring in extra income. As a mom the motivation to hustle never ends. I want to give my children the best life I can. I started working as an amazon affiliate and this is making a small commission when someone purchases items through my amazon link. I'm asking everyone to check my link out and support this small business I am working on. I'm far from where I want to be, but I no longer give up when things get hard. I want to show my kids what never quitting gets you, I've made mistakes, I'm not perfect but I will try every day to be better than yesterday and do better than before. Please show your support by checking out my link, sharing my story and help me reach my goals.

"Having a strong mom is like having a best friend that can carry you when your legs are too tired to walk.” – Unknown

#80s #vintage #nostalgia #motivation #moms #stay at home wife #stay at home mom #positivity #support #blogger #self love #small business #god #godbless #90s

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ossifer · 1 year

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Choose Violence Ask Game: The Locked Tomb

Questions: 2 (a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom), 8 (common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about), and 24 (topic that brings up the most rancid discourse)

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom ianthe. power bottom who can service top. my compelling argument is the arm scene because of how smut coded it is, "choke me, daddy", how she spends the whole of harrow + nona simping for harrow (who does nothing but insult her an wish ill upon her), and how whenever harrow is around she cannot stop bratting. i very much read the line in her narration about harrow being "a certain kind of very good, talented ass, who had been overly used to their hands on the reins and never could cope when they were taken off—nor had the personality to put them back on again" to support the fact she wants to be the one in charge in some respect, but simultaneously wants harrow to have the illusion of still having her hands on the reins (don't ask me where i pulled those thoughts from, i didn't have them prior to this ask, not at all)

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about i do not think harrow is autistic. i do not think harrow is schizophrenic. i think there is something very specific happening with harrow that is down to the nature of her situation — between her upbringing courtesy of her parents, the state of the ninth house in her formative years, the years of religious guilt, and everything that happened as a result of her opening the tomb — which heavily mirrors schizophrenia in ways, and is likely intended to be an allegorical take on it, but is not an exact mapping to it.

and i think people shouldn't debate this so viciously and should just accept that interpretations vary and that either reading has credence to it.

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse in my experience? the debate over the nature of ianthe and corona's relationship and whether there's any degree of incest occurring there. no comment from my end, i've just seen a lot of takes

#asks #thanks for the ask!

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bopinion · 2 years

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2022 / 48

Aperçu of the Week:

"Better a spectacular failure, than a benign success"

(Malcolm McLaren - "The man who created the Sex Pistols" - remembering an advice from an art-school teacher)

Bad News of the Week:

We don't have midterms in Germany because parliament is elected at the same time as the federal government, so to speak. And the elections at the state level are spread out colorfully on the calendar. So there is no concerted punishment of the current government on any particular date. It takes place anyway. But as a gradual process. And the (mood) picture that is currently emerging is frightening - a year after the election and not yet a year after the current government was formed.

In response to the question "In general, how would you rate the work of the traffic light coalition in its first year as a federal government?" only 29% still answered positively, compared with 16% negatively and 45% very negatively (survey by Civey for Der Spiegel). So two-thirds of the population are not satisfied with how the coalition of Social Democrats, Greens and Liberals is conducting politics. In the eastern states, approval even goes down to 12%. That's fierce.

At the same time, approval ratings for the opposition are going up. The conservative CDU/CSU parties have been ahead of the Social Democrats for half a year, most recently with 28% to 19%. Other demoscopes see them at over 30%. And their party leader Friedrich Merz has been in first place for months on the question of who people trust to do a good job as chancellor. That's even more fierce. Because neither is justified in any respect. Because Merz lacks any format and the CDU/CSU is ossifying into fundamental opposition without meaning or goal.

The "Progressive Coalition," on the other hand, is working surprisingly well despite internal friction. In its first year, it has had to cope with a mix of crises unprecedented in history: climate, war, Corona, energy, inflation, hunger, supply chains, democracy, and so on. Which they probably managed well to some extent, because conservatively governed (neighboring) countries perform at the same level and no one has a patent solution.

And yet, in their first (!) year, they have implemented an astonishing amount of their original plans in parallel: a fundamental reform of the welfare state ("citizen's income" instead of "Hartz IV"), massive changes in immigration policy and naturalization law, a gigantic special fund for the German armed forces, various strengthening of civil rights and self-determination, many sometimes strong pro-climate protection measures, reasonably solid budget management, some solutions for low-income earners (minimum wage) and families (child benefits), etc.

But just as Joe Biden was mainly chalked up to inflation in the U.S., so it is in this country. Our society is apparently so spoiled ("full coverage mentality") that someone must be to blame for every misery. So we like to blame "those up there". This is much easier than understanding complex global dependencies or even questioning one's own consumption behavior. Unfair, childish, unconstructive. And now I'm going to complain to the mayor that it's raining because I forgot to bring my umbrella.

Good News of the Week:

China is anything but a democracy. The people are denied basic rights that should be self-evident in this century: Freedom of speech and expression, self-determination and free elections, personal rights and liberties. Instead, the state or the party determines everything. The media are controlled by the same party, there is no opposition, and citizens are under constant surveillance. At times, the control measures of the apparatus seem so absurd that they would have to come from a dystopian Hollywood.

The so-called "zero COVID strategy" was most prominent in this country, with such excesses that, for example, chronically ill people were locked in without their medication, with the entrance doors welded shut - and died. In comparison, it seems almost harmless not to be allowed to leave one's workplace in the factory for weeks with a sleeping bag. But despite all the control of any communication, it has nevertheless made the rounds that these absurd measures do not even work. And that leads - believe it or not - to protests. In the streets, loudly, by the thousands. Using the symbol of a blank white sheet of paper to expose the censorship.

At first, the regime brutally tried to stifle the protests. With control like frisking cell phones for banned apps to coordinate demonstrations to naked violence. Even a BBC reporter was beaten and kicked - and only released from custody after hours. Increasingly, protests turned not against anti-Corona measures but against the regime in general, even against Xi Jinping by name. The parallel with Iran is obvious.

But as unlikely as the overthrow of the government is, there has been some movement in the Corona context in recent days. For example, if one is infected, one may now go into domestic isolation and no longer has to go to a state institution. With a single positive test, the entire apartment block is no longer sealed off. And in some cities, you can even ride the subway or go shopping without a daily negative test.

Coincidence? Possibly. But perhaps the leadership is finally realizing that not everything can be imposed by hook or by crook against the will of the population. Again, there is a parallel with Iran, where the "morality police" responsible for the death of Mahsa Amini are reportedly being disbanded. The courage of these protesters, the likes of which have not been seen in decades, may actually have brought about a fundamental realization. Chapeau!

Personal happy moment of the week:

This week I learned that I am "iconic." That's it. Thank you. Oh, you want to know why? Okay: because I made home order television (decades ago!). On screen. Live. About a dozen times. For a - drum roll please! - set of tape dispensers. Woohoo! I don't share this often because it's a wee bit embarrassing. But it's exactly what my daughter's university classmates find - yes, I'm happy to repeat it - "iconic." Still, I guess I'll have to have a serious talk with her sometime about which anecdotes of my personal past are more personal than public... ;-)

I couldn't care less...

...Ye. Nothing more to add here. I just don't care about the artist formerly known as Kanye West. Full stop.

As I write this...

...I realize that Chopin goes very well with candlelight and the scent of fir trees. When it has become cold and uncomfortable outside, one should be cozy inside.

Post Scriptum:

Japan and Costa Rica continue - Germany and Spain out. A sensation. Really? Because it was only a snapshot in the 70th minute. But it fits the picture: the underdogs are the heroes of this World Cup of soccer. Not only in this group. Because, for example, Tunisia also won against the favorites and defending champions France. It's a pity that - I had mentioned this - one has to virtually boycott this event. Because there really doesn't seem to be a lack of excitement and surprises. Even without Germany, whose tournament performance can be well described as "First we had no luck and then we had bad luck". Or to put it another way: we just weren't good enough.

What I find shabby, on the other hand, is the host's gloating commentary: on TV, Germany is openly made fun of; on Twitter, it goes from "Goodbye to all those who don't respect our Arab and Islamic values" to "Schadenfreude about the worst scum of the West is obligatory." Excuse me? Belgium was officially a top favorite. And is just as out. Denmark, after all, a "secret favorite" (whatever that is supposed to be). And is just as out. While expectations for Germany were low from the start after its preliminary round exit in Russia four years ago. But what should the worst scum of the West expect other than the usual bashing? Grrr...

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iviarellereads · 2 years

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Gideon the Ninth, Chapter 23

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Second House icon) In which things really start to fall apart.

Dulcinea is confined to bed, and her cavalier remains missing. Everyone else is accounted for. The ashes in the incinerator have been raked out and confirmed for human, comforting nobody.

The necromancers, except for Coronabeth, are examining the cremains for clues. Ianthe says they're older than they should be, they feel about three months dead. Palamedes says she's out by about eight weeks, but even then, it predates their arrival at Canaan House. Ianthe says either way it's not Protesilaus, and asks Teacher if anyone else has died recently. Teacher says that they haven't had a funeral in a very long time, and they would hardly have consigned "them" to the incinerator.

Ianthe holds up two fragments and says it's funny that Teacher would use that particular pronoun, as there are two sets of remains in the ashes. Palamedes says the date of death is consistent throughout the remains, though. Ianthe wishes him a happy birthday at the gift of the puzzle of how they died at the same time and were both put in there today.

Deuteros says tersely that the incinerator is curious, but it's obvious that Protesilaus wasn't in there, so where is he? Teacher says he's set the servants to find him, they'll look in every space except the House-assigned rooms, which he asks them all to search for themselves just in case, and the facility.

The group discuss what might have happened. Jeannemary proposes that something from the facility has killed him, and nearly killed Dulcinea, just like it killed Abigail and Magnus. Naberius says they should "drop this insane monster theory" but is cut off by Teacher saying it's not insane at all.

Deuteros says Septimus and her cavalier had accessed the facility, but asks if they had any keys? Yes, responds Silas Octakiseron from the door, she did. Gideon hadn't noticed him leave, but she now sees him coming back. Palamedes asks what Silas has just done. Silas says he felt a responsibility, and he's the one who demanded satisfaction in the duel that obviously can't continue. Palamedes says he hasn't answered the question.

Silas pulls a key ring out of his pocket, with one grey and one "familiar white" key on it. He found her conscious, holding the keys, and she surrendered the ring to him for safekeeping. Deuteros finds that suspicious as heck, and formally asks that Silas surrender them to her as a show of good faith. Silas says he cannot, until they know the fate of Protesilaus the Seventh. Anyone could be guilty. He tosses the keys to Colum Asht, and as he connects the rings together, Gideon notices that their ring has a facility key and another, "black wrought iron with curlicues".

Naberius shouts that Silas just "heavied a nearly dead girl"(1). JEannemary shoots back that he's just jealous he didn't think of it first. Deuteros tells them both to shut up. She reminds them that she said the Second House would take responsibility for proceedings if nobody else could, and that begins now. Silas asks if that's a challenge to him, and she tells him "You'll keep."(2) Instead she "thrusts her chin"(3) to Palamedes and tells him the Sixth are "the Emperor's Reason", and asks him to hand over any keys he has for her safekeeping. He tells her, with respect, to piss off.

Dyas finally speaks to ask that the record state that she was forced into a challenge. She throws a white glove down on the table before Palamedes and says she declares the time, he can name the place, and the time is now. Jeannemary squawks that this is unfair, and a "perfect babel"(4) erupts.

Teacher says he will not be part of this, and leaves. Corona slaps her hands on the table and tells Judith to pick on someone her own size. Isaac says this is what happens, isn't it, with Magnus and Abigail gone. Ianthe snarks back at him about Magnus issuing "a strongly worded memorandum" but is cut off by Corona telling her she's not helping, and declaring that the Third will represent the Sixth, calling Babs to arms. Ianthe tells Naberius that he is not under any terms to unsheathe his sword. Corona asks what she's doing, and Ianthe says she wants to see this play out. Naberius is obviously torn between his princesses as to whom to obey.

All this time, Palamedes has been watching Judith Deuteros, who finally suggests that Palamedes default, he doesn't want to put his cavalier through this. Palamedes abruptly says, no, they're doing this, here and now. He doesn't even stand, he just crooks a finger at Camilla, who starts to limber up, as if to dance, then steps up onto the table in one clean movement. Marta Dyas vaults up on the other side, and draws her weapons: a bone-sharp knife and her plain, polished rapier.

Camilla stares at her for a moment, and draws both her weapons at once in a way that nags at something in Gideon's brain.(5) She wields an incredibly old- and delicate-looking rapier, and a knife that looks meant for hunting rather than duelling. She looks rather amateurish, in fact.

Corona steps up to adjudicate, and tries to declare the legal sword-touch areas, but Deuteros interrupts her calmly and forcefully, declares "Hyoid down, disarm legal, necromancer's mercy," and asks if the terms are accepted. Palamedes says he has no idea what they mean, and Gideon leans in to hear Corona explain to him in a whisper:

"Warden--that means she can hit your cavalier anywhere below the neck, and it ends only when you give in. She's being an absolute cad, and I'm not even slightly sorry for pantsing her when we were eight." "Nor should you be."

Corona adds that he shouldn't let her make an example of him. She's picking on him because he can't fight back, to hurt Camilla badly and scare off Octakiseron and Nonagesimus, adding that she means no offence to Gideon. Palamedes clarifies: so under these terms, her cavalier can do almost anything to his cavalier, in the name of making him call it off? Yes, confirms Corona.

Judith gets impatient, and demands an answer: default or fight, and Corona should arbitrate properly if she's going to. Her "exquisite eyes" could have convinced a stone to roll uphill, but find nothing to grasp in Palamedes. Corona calls the terms again, and Marta answers. Camilla asks Palamedes, and he says she can't hit in the head, but he thinks that's it. She tells him to tell her how to play it, and she answers the call to duel as well.

Gideon moves back to her necromancer, silent all this time. Unlike most in the room, she seems eager for this.

Corona tells them to pace off, as best they can on the table. Palamedes tells Cam to "Go loud," just as Corona tells them to begin.

It takes Dyas less time to realize she's in trouble than it took Gideon, when she fought Naberius. She's a soldier, and fights like one. Camilla fights like a hurricane. She shortly leaves a long red gash down Dyas's front, bashes her knuckles with the hilt of her rapier, and kicks her knee "for good measure." The kick is the only mistake, setting Dyas afire with adrenaline from the pain instead of debilitating her.

The fight continues, Camilla leaving too many openings, but eventually grabbing Marta's wrist and twisting her arm until the shoulder pops. Dyas doesn't quite scream, but it's a near thing. Judith cries "Mercy!", Corona confirms the match to the Sixth, and then a silence falls over the group. Jeannemary breaks it with an exclamation of "Hot dog."

Both cavaliers drip with blood, but Dyas is much worse off. Palamedes sets the shoulder back in its joint, making her scream for real, as Deuteros watches. Then, he demandes her keys. She says she has none, but he says he'll take her facility key, then. When she protests that he has an exact copy, he says maybe he'll throw it out a window, just to keep her out of things she doesn't understand. She picked on the Sixth thinking them weak, not knowing their capabilities, not knowing how many keys they or anyone else hold. Deuteros hasn't paid any attention to anything but herself since the shuttles landed, and then she assumed Camilla was the weakest, best target to take out to prove a point, and he just hates people who assume things.

Judith says she had cause for all those things, but Palamedes doesn't care. She's the one that's stuck a target on everyone with a key, she's the one who's made it a free-for-all, and she'll pay for it. She protests that he misunderstands her intention, but he roars for her to give him her key, "[or] is the Second faithless, as well as dense?" Dyas, having finally mopped up most of the blood from her face with her red kerchief, fumbles in her jacket and provides Palamedes with the key ring. Camilla is sitting on the table, applying pressure to her own wound.

"Missed the bone," she said. "Remember that you're using a rapier, please."(6) "I'm not making excuses, but she was quick as hell-" A voice interrupted: "I challenge the Sixth for their keys. I name the time, and the time is now."(7)

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(1) Can't find a clear definition on this one because I can't get it to properly exclude results for "heavy", but the implication is that Babs thinks Silas beat up Dulcinea to get the keys, or overpowered her physically in her weakened state at least. (2) Not a phrase I see often so in case anyone's unfamiliar: more or less, "you, I can deal with later". (3) I would think of this as more of an upward nod toward, but the description of thrusting the chin changes that from an acknowledgement to a command, VERY Judith in this moment. (4) So many fascinating phrases today! A babel is a scene of much confusing noise, particularly with voices. Relating to the ancient tower of Babel, where it's said in some belief systems that God caused the single world-language to fracture into many, so that the workers building the tower couldn't communicate with each other anymore, and thus couldn't finish and reach heaven. Which… you know, is looking like a surprisingly apt metaphor for what's going on here with the Lyctorhood trials, I'm just sayin, except, God's the one who invited them… so what's causing the fracture between them? (5) What do we think? I'm personally under the impression that Camilla isn't used to wearing these weapons. That, like Gideon, she trained primarily with something else, and learned the rapier last. Gideon's just not used to seeing that flicker of unfamiliarity from the outside. (6) Definitely uses another weapon by preference. (7) Oh, who could this be, causing trouble?

#the locked tomb #tlt #gideon the ninth #gtn #gideon the ninth spoilers #gtn spoilers #gideon nav #ianthe tridentarius #palamedes sextus #teacher (gtn)#judith deuteros #coronabeth tridentarius #jeannemary chatur #silas octakiseron #colum asht #naberius tern #harrowhark nonagesimus #marta dyas #camilla hect

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