#day 11: parallels/anti parallels

[dailysansastark]

Day 11 — parallels/anti-parallels: Sansa & Cersei.

[headspace-hotel]

Just spent a couple hours digging into this book. I'm not even sure what has worse environmental impacts, the paper the book is made of or the opinions printed within.

Is "post-colonial" literary theory a joke? It's distressing that a book printed in 2021 by a reputable academic press can be so painfully Eurocentric, and I mean PAINFULLY. The philosophical and literary frameworks drawn upon in most chapters are like what some British guy in 1802 would come up with. In most of the chapters, every framework, terminology, and example is inseparably fused to Latin, Greek, and/or Christian philosophers, myths and texts, even down to the specific turns of phrase. You would think only Europeans had history or ideas until the 20th century.

Don't get me wrong, non-european and even specifically anti-colonial sources are used, and I don't think all the writers are white people, but...that's what's so weird and off-putting about it, most of the book as a whole utterly fails to absorb anything from non-European and in particular anti-colonial points of view. The chapters will quote those points of view but not incorporate them or really give their ideas the time of day, just go right back to acting like Plato and Aristotle and Romantic poets are the gold standard for defining what it means to be human.

In brief, the book is trying to examine how literature can shed light on the climate crisis, which is funny because it completely fails to demonstrate that literature is good or helpful for the climate crisis. Like that is for sure one major issue with it, it shows that people *have* written stuff about climate change, but it sure doesn't convince you that this stuff is good.

Most of the works quoted are rather doomerist, and a lot of the narrative works specifically are apocalypse tales where most of Earth's population dies. The most coherent function the authors can propose that literature fulfills is to essentially help people understand how bad things are. One of the essays even argues that poetry and other creative work that simply appreciates nature is basically outdated, because:

“One could no longer imagine wandering lonely as a cloud, because clouds now jostle in our imaginations with an awareness of atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide and other atmospheric pollutants” (Mandy Bloomfield, pg. 72)

Skill issue, Mandy.

The menace of doomerism in fiction and poetry is addressed, by Byron Caminero-Santangelo, on page 127 when he references,

the literary non-fiction of a growing number of authors who explicitly assert, some might even say embrace, the equation between fatalistic apocalyptic narrative and enlightenment…they are authoritative in their rejection of any hope and in their representation of mitigatory action as the cliched moving of deckchairs on a sinking ship

He quotes an essay “Elegy for a country’s seasons” by Zadie Smith, who says: “The fatalists have the luxury of focusing on an eschatological apocalyptic narrative and on the nostalgia of elegy, as well as of escape from uncertainty and responsibility to act." Which is spot-on and accurate, but these observations aren't recognized as a menace to positive action, nor is the parallel to Christian thought that eagerly looks forward to Earth's destruction as a cathartic release from its pain made fully explicit and analyzed. Most of the creative works referenced and quoted in the book ARE this exact type of fatalistic, elegiac performance of mourning.

I basically quit reading after Chapter 11, "Animals," by Eileen Crist, which begins:

The humanization of the world began unfolding when agricultural humans separated themselves from wild nature, and started to tame landscapes, subjugate and domesticate animals and plants, treat wild animals as enemies of flocks and fields, engineer freshwater ecologies, and open their psyches to the meme of the ‘the human’ as world conquerer, ruler and owner.

This is what I'm talking about when I say it's dripping Eurocentrism; these ideas are NOT universal, and it's adding nothing to the world to write them because they fall perfectly in line with what the European colonizing culture already believes, complete with the lingering ghost of a reference to the Fall of Man and banishment from the Garden of Eden. It keeps going:

“Over time, the new human elaborated a view of the animal that ruptured from the totemic, shamanic and relational past.”

Okay so now she's introducing the idea of progression from shamanic nature-worshipping religions of our primitive past...hmm I'm sure this isn't going anywhere bad

“While humanity has largely rejected the colonizing project with respect to fellow humans, the occupation of non-human nature constitutes civilization’s last bastion of ‘normal’ colonialism. A new humanity is bound sooner or later to recognize and overthrow a colonialism of ‘nature,’ embracing a universal norm of interspecies justice.” (pg. 206) 

OKAY????

Not only denying that colonialism still exists, but also saying that humans' relationship with nature constitutes colonialism??

Embracing limitations means scaling down the human presence on demographic and economic fronts…(pg.207)

ope, there's the "we have to reduce the human population"

Embracing limitations further mandates pulling back from vast expanses of the natural world, thus letting the lavishness of wild (free) nature rule Earth again” (pg. 207) 

aaaaaaand there's the "we have to remove humans from wild nature so it can be freeeeeee"

don't get me wrong like I am a random white person with no particular expertise in anti-colonialist thought but I think this is an easy one. I'm pretty sure if your view of nature is that colonialism involving subjugating humans doesn't exist any more and actually humans existing in and altering nature is the real colonialism so we should remove humans from vast tracts of earth, your opinion is just bad.

Anyways y'all know I have an axe to grind against doomerism so it was probably obvious where this was going but good grief.

[anameistoohard]

Oh boy, lets open that can of worms

There's a LOT of discourse with endo vs anti-endo stuff (endogenic system=plural system not formed by trauma if you don't know 🙂). Like, death threats coming from both sides kinda thing. We try to stay out of it. But it's easy to accidentally stumble into it if you're not familiar with some of the nuance. So we want to share some observations as like, a crash course. (And apparently we had a lot to say lol.)

This post isn't really to debate how plurality forms. Just to give some context as to why so much hate is flying between these two groups.

Basically, you have 2 extremes. (And everyone in between obviously)

On one side you have people making up extra rules on top of the diagnostic criteria to exclude and gatekeep anyone who doesn't meet "their level" of disordered. (I've literally heard people say "you can't be a system, you're not as traumatized as me"). A lot of accusations of faking come from this bunch. Too much internal communication? Faker. Too many non-human alters? Faker. Too many or not enough alters? Faker. You can't win with them even if you have a diagnosis.

We've noticed a lot of parallels between this group and transmeds. You need to have x level of dysphoria to ride this ride. You can't be trans if you don't want xyz treatment. You need to reach my arbitrary bar of "trans enough". Enbys and everyone else are fakers. That kind of bs.

But on this side you also have a lot of people who just want to be taken seriously. They want to be validated by their diagnosis and feel hurt when people say or do things that they think will compromise that validity. They, at least initially, come from a place of sincerity not malice. But they fall into the trap of trying to be "one of the good ones".

On the other extreme you have the wild west. Things people treat as fact aren't codified with the same scrutiny as the DSM-5 or ICD-11. This breeds its own confusion and misinformation. We've seen people conflate plurality with things like maladaptive day dreaming, lucid dreaming, adhd, and (applying it to other people with ferocity to the point of harassment) metaphors of all things.

They have a spaghetti at the wall approach that reminds me of a less extreme MOGII (an attempt to define just about every possible form of gender and sexuality). It's a messy patchwork of ideas. We've seen 8 different labels that all mean the same thing and are being used by exactly no one. Redundancy and hyperspcificity, that's the name of the game. But frankly we like this if for no other reason than we want to see what sticks, what becomes mainstream.

We've seen people from this group attack people as badly as the anti-endo group. Openly mocking people for having trauma or saying vile shit like "traumagenics kys". They feel threatened by the exclusionary nature of diagnoses. But instead of taking their frustration out on the systems of power they take them out on normal people. After all if you're diagnosed, you "represent the system"... I guess. Equally bull shit.

But this is also where the edge cases go, the exclusions, those that don't fit into a neat little box. The DSM excludes people whose plurality is accepted as part of their culture or religion. These people don't suddenly stop being systems just because they're accepted, but they're distinctly not disordered. They don't meet the clinical definition of DID or OSDD. Same goes for someone whose symptoms are mild enough to not cause "clinically significant distress". You also have people who don't want to be pathologized or have been failed by the medical system.

So lastly, a warning: When dealing with plural stuff, it's very easy to go stumbling into a mine field.

Tldr: I would always rather land on the side of letting too many people in than exclude people who needed the support. However, no matter your in-group, some people take things too far. Like, ffs don't attack people. 

-Taylor & Mark

[rifari2037]

11. What do you think of the Zutara/Omashu reincarnation theory?

My thoughts on Zutara/Omashu are pretty much the same as this post.

When I first read Zutara/Omashu meta, I was like, "where was I all this time? Why didn't I realize this?" All the theories make sense to me, not only the storyline but also the artistic aspect.

But I don't want to look at just one side. Since I found out that canon shipper also represents their ship as omashu reincarnation, I read anti-zutara meta so my judgment is not biased. Who knows that canon shipper theory more make sense?

This is the comparison of the meta (and my opinion in Italic) :

The story of Omashu

They met on top of the mountain that divided their two villages...

Kat/ang :

Kat/ang parallel with Omashu because they are stranger who met and fall in love. Technically, Katara (and Sokka, don't forget him) met Aang on the top of the iceberg, just like Omashu met on top of the mountain.

Zutara :

Omashu met on the top of a mountain, which is a neutral place where two villages are not at war.

Zuko and Katara met in crystal catacomb that looks like the Cave of Two Lovers, in Ba Sing Se which is a city with the motto "no war in Ba Sing Se".

The villages are enemies so they could not be together...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang couldn't be together because of the war, just like Omashu relationship who literally impacted by the war.

But the airbenders and the water tribes were never enemies, right? Beside it was Katara's decision, not the two of them. If Katara didn't confused that time, they would be together even in the war.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara's people were literally at war, they were enemies so they couldn't be together.

It wasn't their decision either, but circumstances that separate them. They raised to hate each other people, until their journey opened their eyes.

But their love was strong and they found a way...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang's love is so strong. They carried through each obstacle dan never gave up on each other. Their love strong enough to end 100-year war.

But as far as I know, their love is not the reason the war ended.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara were enemies at first, so their path to being together wasn't easy. After Zuko betrayed Katara and felt so much regret, he had to find a way to gain her forgiveness. Katara had to understand herself and what she needed before she could forgive Zuko.

Their love (or bond) are so strong and they found a way to finally accept each other.

The two lovers learned earth bending from the badger moles, they became the first earthbenders...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang are parallel with Omashu because they are not the first waterbender and airbender, but they're the last of their kind - the last airbender and the last waterbender in southern water tribe.

Zutara :

Oma and Shu were the first earthbender, but they wore fire and water colour instead of earth colour.

But, one day the man didn't come. He died in the war between their two villages...

Kat/ang :

Aang died after Azula directed lightening to him, just like Shu died in the war.

Zutara :

Zuko and Katara were the reincarnations of Oma and Shu. In his previous life, Oma couldn't save Shu, that's why Zuko was always protective to Katara and saved her in dangerous situations.

Devastated, the woman unleashed a terrible display of her earthbending power, she could have destroyed them all...

Kat/ang :

Katara used a devastating powerful move only for someone she loved, that was wen Aang died in Ba Sing Se during the war.

But instead, she declared the war over... Both villages helped her build a new city where they would live together in peace...

Kat/ang :

Katara and Aang together built a new city with fire, water, earth, fan and sword.

But, which new city? As I know, the new city in TLOK is Republic City which was built by Fire Lord Zuko and Avatar Aang. I know Sokka is the southern water tribe chief and Toph is the police chief, but I don't know Katara's contribution there. She wasn't even present at the bloodbender trial.

Zutara :

Aang as Avatar did defeat Ozai, but the war wouldn't be end if Azula becomes the next Fire Lord.

Just like Oma, Zuko as the new Fire Lord was the one who declaring the war over. He built a new city with the avatar in peace.

It was parallel with Omashu since Katara didn't have a role in new city. She didn't literally die like Shu, but her absence represented that.

2. Colour symbolism

Kat/ang :

Some canon shipper (or all of them?) make an opinion that colour isn't important since the story of Omashu describe Kat/ang, but they didn't wore orange and blue.

I personally disagree with this opinion. Colour is very important in ATLA, not only about Omashu, but also in general. Each nation and benders have their colour to represent their characteristic.

That's why, if I say orange, you wouldn't think of water tribes but air nomads. If I said red, you would definitely be referring to the fire nation, not the earth kingdom.

Zutara :

In Zutara meta, based on the story showed that Zuko was reincarnation of Oma and Katara was reincarnation of Shu. 'Coincidentally' Oma/Zuko and Shu/Katara had the same colour.

3. The Position

Zutara :

This is an interesting theory. Not only they have the same colour, Oma/Zuko and Shu/Katara consistently have the same position.

In the story, Oma always on the left while Shu always on the right.

In every Zutara important moments, Zuko always on the left while Katara always on the right.

If it's just a coincidence, why does this position happened again and again? They could've swapped positions, but they didn't.

I was curious, did that happen in canon too? Well, from these two moments alone, I can already conclude.

I quote canon shipper theories not to attack them, I appreciate the opinion. I just want to compare canon and fanon theories so I less biased to know which theory I agree with more.

So Far, Zutara/Omashu still more make sense to me.

[scientistservant]

Antis sure do like to bring the supposed age gap between Dib and Zim a lot huh.

But like, no???? The show always treats Zim as a kid, never as a grown man! He is constantly called "space-boy" by Dib, attends the same class as Dib, constantly tries to fit in with kids, he is shown being bullied, and does a lot of things kid does like having childish rivalries with Dib and even DATING KIDS FROM THE SAME CLASS AS HE.

I don't understand the line of thinking of the antis, if Zim is a grown man, not only the parallels between Dib and he wouldn't be as strong, but also it would be pretty creepy? Regardless of Zim dating Dib or not???

Just imagine you have to go school with this man in your class full of people your age (11-13 I suppose) who tries tomake himself pass as someone like you, and it works. He even tried one day to date someone he supposed was also someone your age, and constantly engages with this other guy from your class not only in class, but even outside.

And also why would he want to invade Urth by going to school full of children. I'm not saying he should infiltrate into Membrane's labs or something but like. Why a school??? What is the grown-ass man doing there????????????

If Zim being an adult is true, then not only ZaDR would be gross, ZaDF would be too! Even ZaDE!

I’m guessing ZaDF and ZaDE stand for “friendship” and “enemies”?

[girlactionfigure]

🟠 Tue night - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

(1 of 2)

▪️(Not Israel, but this is major) NUKES:  Russian Ministry of Defense: "We started the first phase of the tactical (non-strategic) nuclear weapons exercises in the southern military zone, under the direction of President Putin.  The purpose of the exercises is to maintain the competence of the military units in regards to the use of tactical nuclear weapons."

▪️DEFENSE MIN ON ARREST WARRANTS.. “The attempt of the prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, Karim Khan, to reverse the situation will not succeed - the parallel of the prosecutor between the terrorist organization Hamas and the State of Israel is despicable and disgusting. The State of Israel is not a party to the Court and does not recognize its authority.

Prosecutor Karim Khan's attempt to deny the State of Israel the right to defend itself and free its hostages must be rejected outright.”

RUSSIA on the warrants: "We are not part of this institution and do not recognize its jurisdiction."

▪️LEBANON.. Walid Jonblatt, who heads the Progressive Socialist Party in Lebanon and the Druze community says: “We are only at the beginning of the war with Israel."

🔶 DEAL TALKS.. Qatari Foreign Ministry: "The talks on a ceasefire in Gaza and the release of the hostages are about to reach an impasse.”

▪️ISRAEL CONFISCATES AND SHUTS DOWN.. a live AP news feed from Sderot showing live IDF activity in Gaza, the feed of which was being sold to Al Jazeera.  The Min. Of Communications says it warned that the feed was illegal and harming IDF actions, but was ignored.  

.. The White House: "The report is being investigated, journalists have the right to do their job - it bothers us.”

.. AP: We comply with the Israeli censorship laws which forbid the showing of the movement of soldiers which could endanger them. The live footage of the Gaza Strip usually shows smoke rising from the area.

▪️TRUCK FILLED WITH INFILTRATORS.. a flatbed truck was caught at Eliyahu checkpoint into Israel hiding 7-11 infiltrators (most likely for work) under the bed.

▪️COUNTER ANTI-AID PROTEST.. Arab and Jewish activists from the "Standing Together" movement went to the Tarkomiya checkpoint to prevent anti-aid protestors from stopping aid trucks from Jordan heading to Gaza (and usually taken by Hamas).

▪️HOUTHIS SHOOT DOWN.. another US MQ-9 observation drone, the 5th one, at US$ 30 million each.

▪️THE REAL SAUDI STORY.. an official from the Saudi palace spoke to N12: "Without real guarantees for a two-state solution - there will be no normalization."

▪️ON THE CONSCRIPTION LAW.. Mothers on the Front" movement: "According to the order of the High Court and the position of the ombudsman, recruitment orders for the charedi candidates should have been sent starting on April 1. Every day that they are not sent, this constitutes a serious injury to the IDF soldiers and their commanders and is a de facto offense against the law.”

🟠 Tue night - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

(2 of 2)

▪️LAG B’OMER.. Tiberius: Mayor orders closure of Rabbi Akiva tomb/complex from Shabbat until Monday, including access roads to the area - to prevent crowds on Lag b’Omer and becoming a war target risk.

Beit Shemesh: Large temporary bleachers and facilities being assembled in the RBS-D section of the city, to allow Lag b’Omer celebrations with an attendance of tens of thousands.

▪️IDF CLOSES.. and mothballs remaining Patriot anti-air and anti-missile batteries, opening additional Iron Dome batteries instead.

🔥FIRE TERROR - PISGAT ZE’EV, JERUSALEM.. fire broke out in the Mir forest near Pisgat Ze'ev in Jerusalem. Firefighting planes have been launched and many teams are working on the scene. Molotov cocktails were reported thrown. 

♦️JENIN - SHOMRON.. major counter-terror operation has been going throughout the day.  IED’s fired by terrorists, IDF forces destroy a terror house, firefights.

Hamas: "The Jenin massacre will not stop us from continuing and escalating the resistance operations throughout Judea and Samaria.”

♦️RAFAH, GAZA.. conflicting reports: mainstream media says Israel not deploying additional forces following a US plan for ‘gradual safe civilian protecting action’, alternate reports say 2 additional fighting battalions deployed with a significant expansion of fighting in Rafah.

♦️LAUNCHERS IN A MOSQUE.. Troops of the Armored Brigade operating on the outskirts of Jabaliya located a cache of rockets and launchers in a mosque. Captured.

♦️POP-UP CAUGHT.. Troops of Givati Battalion captured three armed operatives who popped up out of a tunnel in Rafah.  The three were detained and taken for further questioning.

⭕ HEZBOLLAH fires ANTI-TANK MISSILES at Mt. Dov.  Started a fire.

⭕ HEZBOLLAH ROCKETS intercepted over Tiberius, also fired at Baram.

⭕ HAMAS ROCKETS at Ashkelon, intercepted.

[sansamelancholy]

sansa stark appreciation month day 11 :parallels/anti parallels

“another lesson you shall learn, if you hope to sit beside my son. be gentle on a night like this and you’ll have treasons popping up all about like mushrooms after a hard rain. the only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more then they do enemy”, “i will remember your grace said sansa, though she has heard to love was a surer route to the people’s loyalty to fear. if i’m ever queen i’ll make them love me” - sansa VI acok

[kaylorstree]

Complete Midnights Gaylor Lyric Analysis

Okay so there’s a lot to unpack and I haven’t done an in-depth analysis in a really long time so please forgive me!

To the best of my ability I’m going to analyse the lyrics of every song, and then another day I’ll analyse the 2 music videos. Please be patient with me ❤️

1. Lavender Haze:

I think this is really self-explanatory. As we all know a ‘lavender marriage’ is a bearding agreement between two people. Within this song Taylor talks about the comfort of a lavender relationship, as it gives her freedom to live her life without scrutiny. However, in a heteronormative society people ‘only see a one night or a bride’- essentially to be married, or date around and be endlessly slut shamed for it. They want her to marry Joe, which is the ‘1950s shit they want from me’ which I assume she doesn’t want to do if she doesn’t have to. ‘They’re looking at my history’ AKA they’re comparing this relationship to her others, how long they dated for and if there was a ‘proposal’ e.g. Calvin and Tom being her two most serious ‘relationships’

2. Maroon

I think hetlors have quickly come to conclusion this is about Tom Hiddleston very quickly, which is funny because this is very clearly about Karlie.

‘Like you were my closest friend’

‘Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé’ Karlie was her roomate

‘The one I was dancing with in New York, no shoes’ I don’t even need to explain this

‘The lips I used to call home, so scarlet it was maroon’

‘The mark they saw on my collarbone’

‘That’s a real fucking legacy’

3. Anti-Hero

There’s nothing particularly gaylor about Anti-Hero, it’s more of a complex deep dive into Taylor’s worst fears and trying to take accountability to some of the things she’s done.

4. Snow On The Beach

So many parallels to ‘you two are dancing in a snow-globe round and round’

‘My smile looks like I won contest, and to hide that would be so dishonest’

5. You’re On Your Own Kid

‘Summer went away’

‘It’s okay we’re the best of friends’

‘So long Daisy May’ I mean c’mon 🌼

6. Midnight Rain

Again, the hetlors seem to be pretty convinced this is about Tom Hiddleston for some reason.

‘He was sunshine’ Karlie’s nickname of course

My interpretation of this was how much a toll bearding takes on a relationship and your own mental health.

7. Question…?

I would very easily categorise this as a kissgate song. The song uses she/her pronouns throughout.

‘Good girl, sad boy’ Karlie represents Good Girl fragrance

‘Have you ever had someone kiss you in a crowded room?’

‘Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?’

‘She was on your mind with some dickhead guy who you saw that night’ Josh Kushner obviously

‘Did you ever wish you could still touch her?’

8. Vigilante Shit

Nothing particularly gay, I think this is a song about Scooter Braun/Kimye. Maybe you could interpret it as revenge on Josh Kushner for ‘stealing’ Karlie?’

‘Draw the cat-eyes sharp enough to kill a man’ who does we know that always has cat-like eyeliner? 🤔

9. Bejewelled

Firstly, the music video is gay as the cows come home.

Having Dita Von Tese in the video!!!!

The building she enters in the video remarkably looks like the one in the Good Girl fragrance advert.

Is it the Empire State building? Idk I’m British haha

10. Labyrinth

I think this song is sonically very inspired by Imogen Heap. It seems to be very much inspired by anxiety and longing. It’s about being scared to fall in love.

11. Karma

This song is EXTREMELY queer coded.

‘Karma is a cat sitting in my lap because it loves me’ is a euphemism for pussy, obviously.

12. Sweet Nothing

A controversial opinion from me, but the way this song sounds like a nursery rhyme and the lyric ‘The pebble that we picked up last July’ I honestly think Taylor considers Levi to be her son. More proof to support this is in the Anti-Hero music video where Taylor hypothesises she’ll have two sons, which is oddly specific. I think having a Kushner baby to monopolise on that money, power and influence is a great way to ‘get the castle’ in the end. Just a theory, don’t drag me for it. ‘Dancing in your Levi’s’ is a very specific lyric in Cardigan.

13. Mastermind

This perhaps the most gaylor song on the album. It outlines about everything was carefully crafted.

‘And the touch of the hand lit a fuse’

‘All the wisest women had to do it this way’

‘What if I told you none of it wasn’t accidental and the first time you saw me, nothing was gonna stop me.’ As we all know, Taylor and Karlie actually met before the Victoria’s Secret Show, at a different event. ‘I layed the ground work’ Perhaps it was always her plan to get Karlie.

14. The Great War

This is definitely about 2016. As we know politics, kimye, Karlie, Scooter Braun- it was a very dark time for Taylor.

‘Maybe it was her’ the gayest lyric ever.

15. Bigger Than The Whole Sky

This is clearly about regretting lost love, it could be about anyone- Emily, Dianna, Karlie? I don’t know.

16. Paris

This is the definition of loving in secret. It talks about staying in a hotel or in the house, but playing make believe you could be anywhere- even Paris.

Paris is a song by The 1975 also.

17. High Infidelity

Firstly, I think it’s important to mention that Zoë Kravitz was on a show called ‘High Fidelity’ which was on Disney+ where she played a queer character. I haven’t seen it yet, but I’m planning to so will look for Easter Eggs 🐣🥚

I feel like this possibly could be from Karlie’s POV ‘Storm coming, good husband, bad omen, dragged my feet right down the aisle’ is pretty on the nose. ‘You said I was freeloading, I didn’t know you were keeping count’ could refer to the fact they lived together.

18. Glitch

This is about drugs. Or, it could it be about being bearding because of ‘it must be counter-fit’ ‘Someone else’s playground’ ‘2,190 days of our love blackout’ Weren’t we talking about Love Lockdown a while back? Karlie was in Paris at that bridge?

Lyrical parallels to ‘every bait and switch was a work of art’

19. Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

I’d like to take a moment to appreciate what a tune this is.

I honestly feel like this is about John Mayer.

This reminds me of a certain abusive relationship I was in, and it really hits home. 😢

Really feels like a particular relationship of a man being emotionally abusive to a younger girl.

20. Dear Reader

This is about Scooter Braun, and Taylor imparting wisdom.

That’s it! Let me know if I should dissect the music videos too! 🌼💎🕰

This is best I can do at the moment! Haven’t had much time to listen to the whole album more closely, but when I do I might add more to this ❤️🦋

[pabsterthelobster]

Crossovers are weird, right?

So, back in 2014, there was a small crossover between Transformers and Neon Genesis Evangelion that was headlined by an Optimus Prime decked out in the colors of the Evangelion Unit-01. This release was supplemented by a four-part prose story where Starscream apparently merges with the Angel Sachiel and Prime, realizing that the EVA has a life-force within it (assumed to be Shinji Ikari), scans the EVA to grow in size to use its power to defeat "Angel"-scream, and NERV thanks him by giving him a trailer/battle station of their own design.

A few years later, in 2018, the anime Transforming Bullet Train Robot Shinkalion had protagonist Hayato Hayasugi travel to a parallel world where NERV collaborated with the Shinkansen Institute to create their own Shinkalion units in place of EVAs, leading to an alternate version of Shinji showing up piloting the Shinkalion 500 TYPE EVA. Shinji would then make a few appearances in the series afterwards, even appearing in the feature film of the anime that also feature an 11-year old pilot named Hatsune Miku and a snow monster assuming the form of f**king Godzilla.

...who, by the way, once existed in the same universe as the Transformers due to both properties being licensed by Marvel Comics back in the day. Oh, and let's not forget to mention the NERV-Made Anti-G Weapon, a version of MechaGodzilla designed by Metal Gear artist Yoji Shinikawa as part of an official collaborative project between NGE and Godzilla. And that's not even counting the 4D film attraction that debuted the Shin Godzilla version of King Ghidorah.

[zanzibarhamster]

FORGOT THE NUMBERS UBh every oddly number

ALL RIGHT LET'S GO (character is big boss mentioned in another ask)

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

big boss has a really compelling negative character arc and has a lot of grayness to him. he's a hero to some and a villain to others, and we get to watch the slider slowly go from one end of the other, which is not a kind of main character that you see a lot, especially in games. i think a lot of the discourse about him, including the insanely polar-opposite takes of dudebros who think he's a super cool anti-hero vs the queer fans who think he's an irredeemable psychopath from day 1, is because neither one is entirely wrong. also, the che guevara parallel really really works for that reason.

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

hayter's voice acting does not always land. sorry but it's true.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

definitely kings by tribe society (spotify, lyrics)

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

i like how many artists reject the way his canon models are mostly hairless with a chiseled six-pack (bc lbr neither one of those makes sense for the character) and go some degree of bear with him. 10/10.

9. Could you be roommates with this character?

...my gut instinct was "no" but honestly he's lived in very tight quarters with other people for many years so he's probably a pretty mindful roommate. the downside is he also probably doesn't know how to function without a KP chart and will be more than a little bitchy if I don't stick to whatever day of the week i'm supposed to wash the floors. i could do worse.

11. Would you date this character?

absolutely the fuck not.

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

he wouldn't use emojis even if he knew what they were and how to use them. but 📦 suits him for obvious reasons.

15. What's your favorite ship for this character? (Doesn't matter if it's canon or not.)

shocking absolutely everyone, bbkaz.

17. What's a ship for this character you don't hate but it's not your favorite that you're fine with?

not sure how to parse this question so i'm going to hype my other bb ships which are bbeva and bbroy. he's weak to a very specific type of person okay.

19. How about a relationship they have in canon that you don't like?

i don't really have this? i do wish we had more closure on his relationship with eva, the way i make sense of eva pining for him for the rest of her life while he barely even mentions her is that i hc that their last conversation was 1) about the twins, 2) went extremely badly, and 3) she feels guilty about how badly he took it while he just cut her out of his life and never looked back. but i wish we actually knew what happened.

21. If you're a fic writer and have written for this character, what's your favorite thing to do when you're writing for this character? What's something you don't like?

not sure i have a favorite but my least favorite thing by far is to have him watch someone else fight. choreographing fight scenes is a pain in the ass already bc i tend to try to work within specific arts a character might know like judo or aikido instead of just doing it by vibes, and the last thing i need is to deal with a character that uses every single technical term for all of those techniques and provides running commentary on top of it.

23. Favorite picture of this character?

i'm on mobile but insert screenshot of when he is naked against the wall of a cell in portable ops here.

25. What was your first impression of this character? How about now?

mgs3 was the first game i played bc i was told to play in timeline order and my first impression was that he was kind of a dumbass but in an endearing way and his relationship with the boss was cute. which more or less still holds up as part of my opinion on him at that point on the timeline. it got more complicated.

[construingseacats]

Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Chapter 16: The Golden Witch   

Sun, Oct 5 1986 - 11:30PM

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

Given Chapter 17 is more of an Epilogue than an actual chapter, there’s something to be said about how, for “Legend of the Golden Witch”, the halfway point is “Legend of the Gold” and the final chapter is “The Golden Witch”. There’s no real meaning to this, I just think it’s a neat little thing in the choice of naming.

Full disclosure - I remember coming out of my first readthrough enjoying the prospects of Jessikanon a lot. I’ll be keeping an open mind and find myself willing to change my perspective if the story swings me that way, but I vastly preferred the idea of Kanon with Jessica than Shannon with George.

Yet again, everyone knows that knowing the meaning behind the magic circle will do no good, and simply upset them, but Battler decides to pursue the truth regardless. A harmful truth is better than a blissful ignorance.

Once again - we find ourselves in a parallel of the scene with the receipt. Everyone took Eva’s word for it when she literally could have been lying about it. Once again, no-one other than Natsuhi can confirm the letter wasn’t there before she placed the canned food, nor can she defend against the accusation that she was the one who placed it.

Hey, so about all those phone lines being out?

This definitely isn’t a plot hole, as it’s addressed by the characters in universe, so it’s pretty safe to say that they were indeed tampered by the servants and fixed at some point (if not by Yasu making the most of the time while everyone was in the study, then by one of the servants on the way back to the parlour.) Either that or, you know, magic.

Oh, this is an interesting misdirect. I like this one a lot - providing a solution to a problem that didn’t even really exist in the first place. That’s surely how Kinzo was drawn out of the study, and not, you know, him not being alive in the first place.

Yasu has no knowledge of this, right? She wasn’t there to see Battler give Maria the charm back (it would be contrived if she somehow had eyes on that moment without anyone seeing her), and I’m not entirely convinced that Maria would be bringing up the anti-magic charm to Beatrice of her own volition. With that in mind, I think it’s worth chalking this up to Yasu having a soft spot for Maria, not wanting her to die horribly - something which would match up with the second message bottle also seeing the little girl survive to the end. I think that does make the wilted rose a weak point earlier, since it seems out of character for someone who clearly cares for Maria’s wellbeing to actively torment her, but I suppose it’s not impossible to rule it as something Yasu did for the greater cause at hand, especially considering everyone would be dead within 48 hours anyway.

LIKE THE HEROINE OF A TRAGEDY.

Natsuhi’s final duel here is a thing of beauty - she’s the heroine of a tragedy, but that was the entirety of the episode behind her. Plagued with headaches, having her loved ones torn away from her, accused of atrocities far beyond her control and thrust into a leadership position that she did not want - Yasu’s writing has ensured that Natsuhi suffers at every single turn of the past two days. But not here. She’s allowed to go out honourably.

I see this as a humanised element of Yasu - a realisation towards the end of her work that, while she’s used Natsuhi as an instrument of catharsis, tormented the one who has ruined her life, perhaps she has been a little too harsh in what she has put her through. How she herself has ignored the human behind the monster; and reduced Natsuhi to naught but someone deserving of torture. In this moment of lucidity, Yasu relents, and allows Natsuhi to have a fitting ending - one where she still dies, one where she does not make it to the golden land - but not one of embarrassment. Yasu is not a cold hearted killer. There is that part of her that allows her to see the best in even the worst of people; no doubt the same part that allows her to let Rosa go out so elegantly in Episode 2 despite her horrific treatment of Maria. Yasu is human. And I think that’s beautiful.

Once again, Jessica’s VA steals the show for Episode 1. Everyone gets really good moments, no-one lets a scene down or shows any weakness, but between the wretched wailing and asthma attacks, no-one matches her level of performance.

Yet.

A gentle nod to the format of the gameboards - but a stark reminder that, at the end, it all returns to nothing. An explosive finale that ensures nothing is left behind. What a way to send us out.

And so the clock rolls over from 24 to 0.

Sleep peacefully, Beatrice.

[lullabyes22-blog]

Forward, but Never Forget/XOXO - Ch: 7 - Deep Drinker

Summary: Zaun is free—and must grow into its unfamiliar new dimensions. So must Silco and Jinx. A what-if that diverges midway through the events of episode 8. Found family and fluff, politics and power, smut and slice-of-life, villainy and vengeance.

AO3 - Forward, But Never Forget/XOXO

FFnet - Forward, But Never Forget (XOXO)

Playlist on Youtube

Chapters: 1| 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47 | 48

CH 7: Silco and Singed discuss progress and parenthood. Silco reminisces about the past and present. Zaun drags itself out of the dark.

TW: eye trauma, body horror, and medical horror. Mentions of decay, death and the psychological aftermath of war. Also drug use, drug addiction and drug distribution. Beware of Shimmer!

Whiskey was his friend, he didn't have another Vicodin his vice, his real and only lover ~ "Everybody Gets High" - MISSIO

The needle pierces Silco's eyeball like a heat-seeking missile.

It is 34 gauge; 0.15 millimeters. Fine as a hummingbird's tongue. Yet the moment Singed bottoms the plunger, it empties a galaxy's worth of agony into Silco's body. Stars bleed purple in his brainpan. Constellations are born and die, enrobed in flames. What follows is a familiar acid burn from his temples to his toes. Silco's muscles bunch spasmodically, a full-bodied reflex that strangles a snarl out of him. His heartbeat accelerates behind his ribs—then plummets. A buzz suffuses his ears. Then—

Silence.

And from that silence, the surfacing into reality. His pulse hitches and stabilizes. The Shimmer spreads in a steady trickle through his veins.

Silco sags in his chair. A purplish tear slices like a crescent down his scarred cheekbone. He knuckles it off, and breathes.

"Any vertigo?" asks Singed.

"Somewhat."

"It will subside. This strain is longer-lasting than the previous. The only anti-blessing is the stronger side-effects."

"So long as it does its job." Silco rakes a hand through his tousled hair. "And you do yours."

Singed hums assent. His suety burn-pocked face, halved by the balaclava, shows little emotion. Robed in a dark coat, he resembles a tall funereal spire, a vinegary scent wafting off him—the usual cocktail of disinfectant and formaldehyde. Half his torso and the length of his arms are swaddled in bandages.

Mummified wraith.

His every molecule is made of ghoulish attributes that mystify and repel Silo in equal measure: alienness, vacuity, lifelessness. As a businessman, Silco appreciates the stratum of intellect that Singed occupies, a stratum that runs disconcertingly parallel to Jinx's. As a man, he wants to stomp Singed under his boot like a centipede.

Over the years, Silco has known his share of monsters. The reckless ones that devour in one savage bite—like Vander's. The steely ones that kill in subtle degrees—like his own. Singed is a different sort—a monster cored by a rationality that is almost insectile, and triggers the same instinctive revulsion.

"You mentioned a headache," Singed says.

"Comes and goes."

"Daytime or nighttime?"

"Both."

"Stress could be a factor. Or fluctuations in dosage. How is your appetite?"

"The usual."

"Libido?"

"Same."

By which he means: hardly-there and hellacious, respectively. Food usually goes out the window when he is preoccupied. Fucking is the opposite.

The reversal of polarities holds no small irony.

In boyhood, he'd been a shrimp. But he'd always had a big appetite. Bottomless fuckin' pit, Vander used to call him. As often as not, he could go toe-to-toe—or belly to belly—with his brother, if they'd make enough coins for a full meal at Jericho's. Later, they'd sit on the rooftops, passing a cigarette between them, and talk of all the premium fare they'd enjoy one day. For Vander, it was all about homecooked nosh: porthouse steaks sizzling with fat and cherry tarts sparkling with sugar. For Silco, gourmet was the passion: fancy cheeses and exotic fruits. They'd stuff themselves until their guts overspilled in white flags of surrender.

Fucking was another story. As a young man, he'd never attracted droves of darlings like Vander. But he was intelligent, he had a wry charm, and though in some respects he could be a temperamental bastard, in bed he was all tenderness. At the Drop, even the most jaded barfly would gravitate to his corner to let down her hair for a moment—figuratively, literally. In the mornings, the girls would roll from his bed and down the stairs, all sloe-eyed and smiling in a way that made even Vander shake his head with marvel.

Quite the cocksman is our kid—if he yanks his nose out of a book and into a cunt, he'd guffaw within earshot of half the bar.

All of that changed after Vander drowned him

Sometimes Silco thinks the night killed off every natural need and desire in his body. Other times he knows better. The drowning didn't kill anything. It just distorted it to its ugliest extreme.

Suddenly, he had wealth pouring at his fingertips. All the fancy cuisine he could desire: orchard-fresh apples, cuts of piquant cheeses, plump wedges of tartlets. Yet at fine Piltovan establishments, he'd hardly touch a thing, before waving his hand for the staff take it away. Alone, he'd eat his meals near-raw, one forkful at a time, chewing over and over until everything tasted of bonemeal between his teeth.

Fucking was, again, another story. The Shimmer micro-dosage put him on a near-manic overload. It also blurred the boxes of sex and violence that he'd once kept scrupulously separate. Something awoke inside him with a slap, and it craved brutal things. The kind that break laws and draw blood. Afterwards, they'd rise on trembling knees—the boys and girls from the brothels, the business flings and fleeting fancies—with hands clapped to seeping wounds, faces streaked with sweat or tears, and stare at him. Sometimes sobbing in shock, sometimes glassy-eyed with pleasure, but always looking like they'd surfaced from drowning.

And yet he left them intact. Left them alive.

A kinder fate than most drowners got.

Singed says, "The new strain will cause a spike on both fronts. A second puberty, if you will.”

“As if the first wasn’t bad enough.”

“It will settle in time."

"Hm."

Silco snaps open his compact—a smart clamshell in black and gold. Most of Topside's brands are designed for complexions of sun-kissed peaches or radiant creams. But the Fissure-folk run on the ashen side of the spectrum. This blend is custom-made by a local visagist. He dusts it across his tear-streaked cheekbone with precise dabs.

His eyes in the mirror are hooded, rimmed by lavender shadows. Singed observes and doesn’t miss a beat.

"How many hours' rest are you getting?"

"Eight."

"Eight hours last night?"

"Eight hours in the last two days."

Singed accepts the detail impassively. Perhaps his eyebrow twitches above his undamaged eye, but if so, it is barely noticeable. He moves to a metal table to consult a notebook. His unnervingly long fingers wield the pen like a scalpel, making incisions on the paper. Letters, or symbolic code—given the illegibility of his handwriting, it might be either.

"You must adhere to the schedule I've set," he says. "Failure to do so will negate the Shimmer's benefits. Its antimetastatic is meant to rot any RNA helix and kill the spread in your eye. But for the full benefits, you must do as I've advised. Sleep at least seven hours. Eat three square meals rich in foliates. Limit your tobacco use. Especially if you are orally ingesting it."

That stirs a curiosity as idle as Silco's canted head. "What makes you think I'm taking it orally?"

Singed lets off a gravedigger's wheeze. "I recognize the scent of brightleaf."

"Used it yourself?"

"Myself? Never. But I once treated a man with his lower jaw totally disintegrated from chewing it."

"I don't chew it, Doctor." Silco tugs his bottom lip down to expose the gleam of sharp teeth, then lets it snap back. "I pouch it."

Singed shakes his head. "Semantics. But you are somewhat partial to those."

"And to my vices."

"Those are best discouraged."

"But what is my onus of burden?" Silco shakes out a cigarette from his case, lights it, and takes a drag. "Myself, with the lifespan of a rat."

"And the resilience." Singed's waxen face is hazed by curling drifts of smoke. "If the doubters at Piltover's academy could see my work now, compared to your state when I first found you, it would be a triumph. Why, if Heimerdinger could see this specimen, even he—"

Silco flicks ash into a petri dish at the table. Singed eyebrow twitches again, and he drops silent.

The Doctor's spiels are predictable in their skew. Usually, his emotional barometer is static. No puffed-up storms of pride like Talis; no radiant beams of bedlam like Jinx. Just a monotone gray that matches the rest of him. But a prized specimen is one of the few subjects that stirs him to something resembling passion.

Silco has never cared for being a specimen.

"I'm still dying," he says tersely. "By quarter inches. What's the triumph?" He unfolds from the chair. "It’s tiresome to talk about. Show me how far along our projects are."

Nodding, Singed disengages the injector from its needle. The latter, he drops into the sharps bin. Through the fluted hole, Silco stares at the tangle of dirty blades. Signs of a busy three months. The rest of Singed's basement laboratory is scrupulously clean as always; barely a speck of dust. He likes a spotless workspace when he's neck-deep into his "projects," as he calls them.

Ten years ago, Silco was one of them.

His memory of the time is ill-defined. Drugs and agony have chewed away the details. Ironic—given he remembers perfectly the moments that preceded his convalescence.

Two months shy of his thirty-third birthday, Vander had drowned Silco in the Pilt. Silco had fought him off—barely—and fled. He'd not gone far. The left side of his face was all blood, slashes opened from his upper-lip all the way to his orbital bone. His left eye was worse; a burst-open yolk swimming in the river filth. He'd practically felt it trickling through his bloodstream with its rotten-cored stink. His body had slowed with the syrupy crawl of septic shock.

Under the shadow of the Old Hungry, he'd dragged himself to the river's edge. There, good eye glazing over, he'd passed out.

Silco-the-man had sloughed off his mortal coil.

Singed had salvaged what remained.

A promising Piltovan chemist who'd once seen his portrait grace the Academy's halls for his groundbreaking research, Singed had evidently found it more cathartic to set aside the accolades in favor of Ionian war-crimes. By the time he'd relocated to Zaun, his professional dossier had claimed as many corpses as the Pilt.

At any rate, he always needed them for his work. The riverside yielded a steady supply.

Silco was the first corpse who'd still been alive. Singed had dragged him back to the lab. Two weeks later, Silco had snapped to consciousness belted to a metal table. He'd been stark-naked and shorn head to toe like a plucked chicken. Agony corkscrewed horrifically from his bad eye into every extremity.

Welcome back, Singed had greeted—before fitting a rum-soaked leather strip into Silco's screaming mouth.

In those days, Singed was working on a promising substance termed S-2. In small doses, it served as a performance enhancer and a mood lifter. In medium doses, it dissolved malignancies and knitted together torn flesh and muscle. In large ones, it produced hideous side-effects: convulsions, neurological issues, cardiac collapse.

This was the prototype of Shimmer. Silco was one of its first lab-rats.

Enough pain can reduce a living man to jelly. Silco wasn't a living man. What lay on Singed's table was a cadaver, split open, its organs excised. Something else would slither into their place. Something that wore its humanity like a costume, while inside there was nothing but bottomless rage.

A week after resurfacing, Silco met his own monster—a black-finned creature from the deepwaters, with teeth sharp as steel and eyes red as blood. It burrowed between Silco's ribs and made a home of him. It spoke to him in a voice belonging to killers who sleep on the bones of their enemies.

Forward, but never forget.

Thus, he and the monster were wed.

He'd felt gratitude to it. Three months, he lay felled on Singed's table. Pain throbbed through him in blistering bursts. Yet it never reduced him. He didn't sink into despair; he didn't beg for death. The monster refused. Instead, Silco had snarled every curse in his extensive vocabulary. When the pain was too awful for speech, he'd growl, grind his teeth, pound the back of his head against the table. His thrashings were so violent Singed had to strap him down.

You're certainly a live one, he remarked. I suppose that's why you survived.

Silco felt no gratitude to Singed. Depended on him, yes, for water and food and medicine. But the ruthless bite of exigency in Silco's chest was balanced by the cold bedrock in Singed's own. The chemist hadn't taken Silco in out of charity. He'd done it with the curiosity of a boy who'd stuck a knife into a fish's belly to take a peek into its glistening innards.

It was difficult to pinpoint when Silco made a full recovery. It felt more like a resurrection at its unholiest.

Physically, he'd sustained massive scarring. Half his face was discolored by narrowly-averted necrosis, the epidermis gone rough as rawhide. His left eye was ink-black from hypoxia. The pupil, layered by Singed with a reflective film spliced in feline cells, caught the light in an otherworldly glow. The smooth tenor of his voice had abraded into a menacing husk; the result of Vander’s knuckles crushing his voicebox. All the muscle he'd earned from a lifetime of hard labor had melted away. In their places was a body composed of pure bleached bone.

Altogether he'd looked like a carnival freak, like something dredged from a maniac's nightmares.

Or Vander's.

Standing by the lab's cobwebbed mirror, the first thing Silco said was: I want a bloody cigarette.

The second: I'll kill him.

Of course, that hardly needed saying.

It took another month to scrape himself together enough to find a place to stay. In the Undercity's subterranean dens, he'd floated around, a slow drip of sinister potency quietly accumulating power. While Vander played his charade of strength in the spotlight, a slave to the status quo, Silco played the inside game, making connections and cutting deals to overthrow him. He'd swum through the lower echelons, gathering around himself a flotsam of power brokers, scam artists, prostitutes, thieves, druggists, mercenaries.

And Singed.

The betrayal had left Silco's psyche cleansed of any facets that fostered weakness—trust, friendship, mercy. Those he kept close were, by definition, assets of the most brute expedience. Like him, Singed was a monster unmoored from morals. He was also a genius—and an innovator. Paradigms of right or wrong held no meaning for him. The only thing that mattered was breaking boundaries. Unlocking doors.

Progress.

The unsavory nature of their first encounter worked in Silco's favor. After the Ionian massacre, Singed was demonized in the same circles he'd once been feted. Genetic research firms and prominent medical institutions shunned him, refusing to invest a coin on his research. None had experienced Shimmer's miracle firsthand.

Unlike Silco.

Over the years, he'd kept Singed close, and trusted him not at all. The Doctor was a hard worker. He never abdicated his responsibilities. But he was about as loyal as a suckerfish to a shark. At the soonest whiff of fresh meat, he'd scurry off to bloodier pastures.

Best to keep the waters nicely chummed.

His laboratory at Silco's headquarters is spacious and well appointed. The technology is state of the art. Warmth emanates from gilled vents. Its dimensions resemble an hourglass. One half contains Singed's main lab and his living quarters. In the corner is a cot, and a cubicle leading to a toilet. At the other end is a desk, where a lunch tray sits: a bowlful of half-congealed soup, a plate of nibbled-on sandwiches, and a water bottle. The Doctor's meals are delivered like clockwork. Otherwise, gripped by the mania of his projects, he can go days without food or baths or sleep.

It's another thing he and Jinx have in common.

Silco follows Singed down a passage that winnows into a bottle-neck, then opens into another chamber. The secondary lab. At every corner, cameras keep a full-scale view of each corridor and cubbyhole. These are fed to a bank of monitors in the fifth floor, for Silco's personal perusal. The Doctor isn't a prisoner; he has full permission to enter and exit the building as he chooses. But an entourage of blackguards accompany him everywhere.

Like any successful businessman, Silco keeps a close eye on his assets.

And his liabilities.

The air in the secondary lab is muggy. Singed sheds his coat, and drapes it over a hook at the door. The space on his left is dominated by terrarium cages of different sizes. Their interiors are alive with guinea pigs, mice, and rabbits. A nightmare petting zoo—each animal narcotically swollen, with luminous eyes and thick strings of Shimmer veins bulging through their fur. Here and there, the glass is spiderwebbed from their thrashings.

The wall behind them is glassed-in by an enormous porthole window. A bluish darkness presses against it, a secretive swirl of color in motion. Shapes zip everywhere. Sea creatures from the depths. Some are small and pale as candlewax, their sun-starved bodies translucent enough to unveil their skeletons. Others are carved from blackness, their mouths studded with needlelike teeth and the wet jewels of their eyes staring sightlessly through the porthole.

"A genus of viperfish," Singed says. "Your blackguards brought them in after the battle with Piltover disturbed their habitat."

"Lovely," Silco says, meaning it.

"I thought you might find them so. They have perfected their hunting skills in near-total darkness." He taps a fingertip against the glass. "Their teeth are too big for their skulls to accommodate. Instead they unhinge their jaws and then snap them together into a prison that locks live prey inside."

Silco hums around his cigarette.

"Ordinarily, they survive under tremendous pressure. Any alteration in their environment disintegrates their bodies. Yet these fish have spent the past three months intact. Thriving. All thanks to a diffusion of Shimmer pumped into their tank at intervals. They've surrendered no cellular integrity. They show no signs of mutation of decay."

"Promising."

"Indeed. I am especially interested in their reproductive capacity. The females' fertility has seen an uptick from small doses of Shimmer. In time, they could lay eggs all year around. One school multiplying into a dozen."

"Are they edible?"

"No. But their cartilage contains a substance that strongly inhibits tumorous growths, such as cancer and HIV. Their biological systems are also highly delicate. If they can sustain themselves in this environment, with the aid of Shimmer, and produce viable offspring, then the same process can be replicated on hardier species. Those can be used to create a diverse Undercity food supply."

"Keyword: if."

"Such gambles come with their own variables. Unless—"

"What?"

Singed fixes him with a look. "You'd allow me to examine the effects of Shimmer infused with the Hex gem."

"I will allow no such thing."

"Beyond my scope of practice?"

"Your realm is science. Magic is different."

"You do not believe the two should mix?"

A shadowed smile. "On the contrary."

They mix to perfection in Jinx.

And Jinx is the only one he trusts to be the Hex-gem’s vanguard.

He steps alongside Singed to get a better eyeful of the viperfish. Their scales are streaked with veins of glowing blue, like lightning zaps. Like fingerlings of Jinx's neon paint. Coin-bright eyes, their interiors so colorful: reds and emeralds and ultraviolets. They seem barely of this world. And yet he knows the species is likely as old as the Pilt. Perhaps older. Barely evolved from their first stage, because they are perfectly built from the start.

Perfectly built for darkness. But what of daylight?

Singed persists, “I'm curious to see how much more potent the Shimmer dosage could be when mixed with the Hex-gem. Imagine the breakthrough it could presage. If you'd allow me a moment with our priority specimen…”

Silco snaps back to himself. "What?"

"Our priority specimen," Singed says. "J17."

Silco says, in sibilant warning. "Her name is Jinx."

"Technically, yes," Singed says placidly. "Will you bring her down later?"

A blackened nail pierces Silco's spine. "What the devil for?"

"Examination. You say her lucid states are lengthening."

"Yes."

"How often?"

"Ninety-five hours last week."

"Any episodes of violence?"

"Once."

For a time, Silco had feared that Once might be Forever—Jinx's moods had been so erratic. Yet in the past two weeks, her savagery was wiped out by broad strokes of apathy. It wasn't the near-comatose type like before. Instead she was listless and yet restless. Ninety-five hours of lucidness; no restoration to normality.

Awake, she veered between bouts of standoffishness and clinginess. In daylight, she followed him around everywhere with a conflicted unease to her manner and a subdued cast to her face, like a prisoner slapped in handcuffs. Conversation came in stops and starts. They could share silences or even smile together. But then the talk would skirt a raw spot—the past, the future—and discomfort would drop like a guillotine between them.

Other times, without warning, she'd fly at him in a bone-cracking hug. A familiar fabric of touch now threaded with strangeness, because Jinx's usual look of sweet adoration was replaced by a shame-filled apology. Like there was something out-of-line about the very fact of her neediness.

Like the brightness of her presence wasn't a cynosure—but an eyesore.

Nights were worse. Since he'd weaned her off the sedatives, she never got much rest, always twitching at the shores of shallow sleep. She also refused to go to bed alone. Sometimes Silco would jolt awake in his own room to Jinx folded around him, elbows digging into his ribs and her unbraided hair in his mouth. Silco tried weaning her off that too. But his own resistance was futile, a habit of leftover solitude that yielded as all else did to the primacy of his child's needs.

And keeping her nightmares at bay.

He'd tried encouraging her to tinker with gadgets. A return to gentler pastimes, an activity to sweep her mind along the surface of old hurts. But Jinx shut down the suggestion with a vehemence that bordered on terror. There was nothing she seemed quite ready to do, and each day she accomplished nothing to great success.

And for Silco? Great loss.

No doodles on his ashtray. No wind-up monkeys on his desk. No magic in his life.

No Jinx.

Her reduced state made him ache, worse than a knife to his eye or hands around his throat. She hadn't left the suite at all in three months. So far there had been few reasons to leave. Security risks, riots, Jinx's instability, etc. Yet Silco sensed a more instinctual self-preservation on both their parts.

Normalcy—a curious state devoid of the old status quo—had yet to spread its wings over Zaun. The citizens were taking their first faltering steps into freedom. But the city's superstructure was heavily damaged. Certain zones were off-limits; darkness flickering erratically. Others were littered with tons of putrefying meat. The outdoors reeked of ruin and rot.

Two things Jinx wasn't prepared to deal with.

Last week, at the balcony, she'd found a raven. It was barely alive, breathing shallowly. Its body was shredded like cheesecloth to expose the pink gridwork of bones. A rat was gnawing at its twitching remains with the blood-flecked pegs of its tiny teeth.

Jinx had watched silently, crouched with her elbows on her knees, chin resting on her fist. Her eyes held a glossed-over blankness.

From the kitchen’s bay window, Silco kept an eye on her. In the past, it never entered his mind to shield Jinx from death. He'd grown up witnessing worse. He'd survived. So would she. He never encouraged her to skin cats alive or toss lit firecrackers at dogs. Never forcibly thrust her into bloodbaths, or rubbed her face in their aftermath. But once she was fully trained, he'd allowed her to participate in missions. He'd wanted her to be cognizant of the crazy highs and crashing lows of adrenaline. To know life and death in its unfiltered state—as a child ought to learn, he privately believes.

When Pilties cross a body, it's in a casket, all perfumed and prettified. The truth is far less palatable.

The raven's body pulsed in death-throes. The rat clambered nimbly over its chest and sank its teeth into its neck. Blood speckled the tiles and a cold iron scent leeched into the air. Jinx stared; her features set in mute neutrality. Reaching out, she prodded the raven with one fingertip.

Its body rolled over, weightless. The rat skittered away.

When Silco reached Jinx, she was curled into a ball. Her whole body shook. Huge ragged sobs tore from her chest. When he touched her shoulder, she lashed out and by instinct grabbed the nearest makeshift weapon, a hook-shaped fire poker. The next moments were a blur of Silco and Jinx struggling, the steadying manacles of his hands trying to clamp around her wrists while dodging her swings in a deranged dance.

Sevika, alerted by the commotion, burst in. The blackguards were hot on her heels. It took six of them to pin Jinx down. Three others to wrest the fire poker from her clutches. Silco knelt with the sedatives and tried not to look at the mad hatred in his child's eyes.

A brew that undiluted was personal; it had to be. The same poison that once bubbled in his veins for Vander.

The same poison he now felt towards Vi.

"Do it now!" Sevika yelled, ducking away from a spitting shriek.

Silco jammed the needle into the crook of Jinx's elbow. A crackling energy pulsed beneath her skin. Her small body held a mindless force. Only her eyes expressed a tragic understanding: punch-drunk pink darkening into a dull rosewood as the rage bled away.

Afterwards, the guards cleared off on his orders. Sevika lingered while he carried Jinx to bed. It was tempting to resume her dosage and keep her under. Instead Silco administered only a half-shot. She lapsed into a wakeful dreaminess; her fingers plucking at the bedsheets, her eyes a tearful half-lidded entreaty.

"I'm sorry," she kept whispering. "I'm sorry…"

Kissing his thumb, Silco pressed it to her skin as he drew the steel out.

Afterward, he'd slumped on the kitchen stool, nearly steamrollered. Sevika offered him a hash-loaded stoge. Though he waved it off, the choice took him a half-minute. She poured a dram's worth of bourbon from her flask into two glasses. They knocked them back in silence.

"You can't keep this up," she said flatly.

"I can and I will."

"You're like a worm on a hook."

"A worm can turn."

"What's that mean?"

"Means what it means."

Sevika exhaled, knowing what that meant. Draining her glass, she set it aside. "Zaun can't afford a part-time leader."

"I can't afford to leave Jinx unsupervised."

"Get a live-in attendant!"

"I'll not trust her to a stranger."

The very idea leeched the blood from his body. A live-in attendant was a security risk. Their presence wouldn't slide his mind off Jinx. It would eat away at him interminably.

As it was, he wore his disgruntlement like rows of teeth beneath his skin. Prowling the zones of disrepair, his intolerance gnashed sharper for every leftover heap of rubble or forgotten scrap of cadaver. In his office, he gorged on bitter mouthfuls of coffee and smoke, while his blackening mood covered the floor and his orders shrouded the city in security checkpoints and truckfuls of militia to suppress the rioters.

Not everyone agreed with his methods. Some saw his heavy hand as an attack against liberty—an attempt to punish those who dared stand up for themselves. Many believed his tactics were tantamount to a new regime of terrorism. And yet nobody had the balls to suggest an alternative. Or the brains to devise it.

Nobody except Silco.

At a couple of days' notice, he’d brought the riots to a crashing halt. Shopkeepers could whip up their shutters. Clerks could scurry back to the salvaged government buildings. The relentless machinery of enterprise could restart.

Zaun's emergency funds were drained. But with a little persuasion, the chem-barons replenished them from their own strongboxes. Sanitation crews were dispatched to scrape away the remains in damaged neighborhoods. A small monetary reward was offered to volunteers.  At clinics, medicines and vaccines were distributed to the sick and wounded. At shelters, food and clothing were doled out. Women with bellies bloated from assaults were seen to. Men with mangled limbs received chem-prosthetics. The Old Hungry, restored to off-key stolidity, chimed the bells away.

Whatever it cost to make the Zaunites feel safe again.

Silco kept his iron grip on the city’s day-to-day grind; to loosen it would be a mistake. Progress in theory is always attractive. But at their hearts, people are creatures of habit. They seek refuge in order. To snatch it away is to leave a void within which chaos festers.

For all his outward control, Silco relishes chaos. It is a brilliant tool. A blindsiding tactic.

But governance calls for a stabler hand. Too many revolutionaries are devoured by their own monster of instability. To preclude a bloody end, Silco must take up arms in a bloodless shell-game. Keep Zaun's daily life rocking steady, while he insinuates a completely different paradigm at its center.

It is nearly staggering. The hugeness of responsibility paired with the smallness of action. A single loosened finger and everything threatens to come crashing down.  

The irony is a killer.

A nation's power at his fingertips, and yet what he wants—Jinx, Zaun’s soul, restored—is not at his power to summon. In its place is an interminable torment of quashed hopes and bitten down remorse, sleepless nights and days of hysteria and ennui, paired with the kind of intense caretaking that would mentally tax even a trained professional.

And yet he is adjusting to the disrupted rhythms of his life. His new life. An altered Zaun, an altered Jinx. The dual loci of his world, the bells devoted to each one's care blurring into one another so he no longer bothers to question when one crisis merges into the next: a knife-sharp meeting with the chem-barons on a bankrupt treasury melding together with prying an actual knife loose from Jinx's trembling fingers, or the rise and fall of sirens after a fire in Entresol bleeding with Jinx's muffled sobs into her pillowcase at night.

Giving up would be easy. But Silco's survival instinct always runs stronger. In a battle of attrition, he refuses to yield.

(I won’t lose my child again.)

Singed says: "You mentioned Jinx has resumed menstruating."

Silco's eyes snap to the Doctor's as if at gunpoint.

"What of it?"

"That is another cause for examination."

"It's scarcely a crisis."

The lower half of Singed's face is enveloped by the balaclava. Yet Silco senses a tepid smile. "A celebration, rather."

"How so?"

"The Shimmer used to save her life was highly experimental. I expected treatment-induced amenorrhea, if not outright premature menopause. Some strains of Shimmer can damage the reproductive system. Of course, the resumption of menses is in itself no marker of perfect reproductive health. If I could have a moment to scan her—"

Silco cuts him short. "You will not discuss reproduction and my daughter further."

The pinkened skin around Singed's eyes crinkles.

"What?" Silco asks.

Singed offers something resembling a shrug. "It's unexpected to hear it."

"Hear what?"

"Daughter. Of course, she was always that."

Silco's face reshapes itself to impassivity. "Show me the F12 specimens."

Singed inclines his head. Silco follows him to the right-most wing of the laboratory. It is dominated by stainless steel doors: six in a row, each one with numerical labels. Singed crosses over to the door marked F12. He punches a code on the keypad.

With a muted hiss, the lock disengages. Singed pulls the door handle; vapor floats out in chemical-scented plumes.

The interior is a refrigerated cube. It is chockful of night lilies. Dozens of them. Every ledge and table is festooned. Some in utilitarian glass vases, some in orbs, some in corrugated soil shelves. Their colors are Zaun's colors: red as spider mites, black as oil slicks, green as toxic sludge.

In the Undercity, flowers are rare as black diamonds. It makes them a go-to gift among the chem-barons: a way to flaunt wealth and curry favor. Yet Silco has always detested them, cut or rooted. They never stand firm on their stems; they never die in one piece. Each time he's received them, he's longed to toss them in the rubbish where they belong.

These night lilies are different.

They've been hyper-developed in his cultivair's hothouses. A special strain of Shimmer is injected into their roots, lighting the cellular walls of their petals with a queerly neon glow. The superior nutrient absorption compensates for the Undercity's dearth of sunlight. Bigger bulbs; sturdier roots; faster circulation.

And so full of fragrance they'd knock out a perfumery.

Silco is pushing for the same strain of Shimmer to cultivate non-toxic vegetables and fruit, grown year-round in indoor hothouses. It would free Zaun's horticulturists from a dependence on soil, sunlight and fresh air. It would also undercut the future rising cost on imported produce. He's given Singed a deadline. By the end of this year—or else. He and his staff are to cut no corners, but take any risk, until the gamble pays off.

Some may call it a crime against nature. Silco begs to differ.

What is Zaun—if not a defiance against dehumanizing odds?

Singed plucks a blackly glossed leaf off a bloom, and proffers it for Silco's perusal. Silco rubs it idly between two fingertips. Its texture is both delicate and curiously dense. The striations of Shimmer pulse like embers, the softest scintilla. Silco wafts it under his nose the way he would a cigar. The leaf carries a sultry whiff of soil, rainfall and something stickily decadent. A pungency like fermenting berries.

The signature scent of Shimmer.

Silco sniffs. "You ought to bottle it as a perfume."

"Perhaps."

Singed plucks a petal for himself. Tugging down the balaclava, he bites it in half. His teeth are tiny and unnaturally white, like they've been filed down and soaked in bleach. He chews thoughtfully, his scorched-off lips stained dark purple, like from too many popsicles.

"This, unlike the viperfish, is edible," he says. "The petals contain trace amounts of polyphenols and antibiotics."

"Oh?"

"For the Undercity, they stand a chance of treating respiratory infections."

"Side effects?"

"So far only a mild sensory distortion roughly five minutes after ingestion."

"Addictive?"

"Only in terms of compulsive use."

"Then we'll market it as a two-in-one." Silco pops the petal into his mouth. It crunches agreeably between his teeth, like a strip of cabbage. "Sell the first batch to the chem-barons. We'll see if the aftereffects are lasting. Once the kinks are tweaked, we'll begin supplying it locally to Zaunites. The final product will be exported overseas."

Singed nods. He is always pragmatically attuned to the needs of the Powers That Be. Where the Grey sits, as the Undercity saying goes.

And Silco? Was his choice to flood the Lanes with Shimmer a pragmatic means to an unsolvable end? His naysayers can be counted on to toss epithets, each one colored by pre-determined ideological prisms. Some focus on his mouth-watering corruption. To hear them, you'd think he'd invented drug addiction as a vice, rather than catering to a social symptom. Others are hung up on the immorality underpinning his enterprise—arguing that suffering met with suffering is no different from a mother with Munchausen syndrome mixing poison in a tot's pablum to salvage her marriage. To them, he is a devil every bit as dangerous as Piltover, an effete hypocrite leading the community down the dark path of self-destruction.

Silco's answer to both?

Fuck off.

He has no qualms baring the abominable scraps of his psyche for a pearl-clutching peanut gallery. So Janna's honest truth? He sells drugs because drugs are what sell. Over half the Zaunite populace live in a toxic pit of glowing green death. The consequences are inevitable. Spiking cancers and skyrocketing malformations. To say nothing of the psychic toll of subsisting in a disease pit.

Nothing in their world is free but dreams. When you wake up, those vanish in double-time. Addiction fills the void.

In peoples' lives, and in Silco's pockets.

He’s never forced anyone to imbibe Shimmer at gunpoint. Rather, he favored the soft sell. Shimmer wasn't just a narcotic. It was a promise of salvation. It could heal wounds. It could cure ailing bodies and minds. It could reverse the ravages of time. It could accelerate the growth of cells, and curb the spread of decay, and counteract the thousands of miseries that are part and parcel of survival in the Fissures.

It could pull Zaun from the brink of collapse—and back to life.

He'd let Shimmer's blessings take center stage, sneaking its sinful sales through the side door. It wasn't chemical dependency he was selling. He was curating a cure-all. The missing ingredient to spice a stagnant life.

The medium was the message: Be More. Be Free.

He'd read a story once at Hope House Orphanage about a shining utopia, the perfectness of its citizens' lives hinging on one inconvenient truth. A child serving as a literal scapegoat, trapped in a filthy basement and cruelly abused. A few citizens, discomforted by the suffering of one for a multitude's bliss, walked away from the city. They unhooked themselves from its ideology by their own choice of action.

Silco had sat in a corner with the book in his lap, reading the story over and over, trying to glean sense of the message. At the time, he'd thought it served as a prescient allegory of Piltover and the Undercity. Older, he finds it a nasty piece of sophistry. The onus rests not on those who abandon the city—but those who remain. The former have no recourse for rescuing the child. The responsibility is incumbent upon the city itself, and the disparity of its own making.

And the child?

Suppose he was more than a narrative widget? Suppose he found a way to destabilize the city from within? To flood the basement of the building?

Drown everything and begin anew.

Shimmer was Silco's floodwater. His weapon to splatter Topside's spotless hems. Show them the rot at their roots. He took little pleasure in Zaunites succumbing to the drug's anti-blessings. But he took great pleasure in the profits as an armament for resistance. In reclaiming Zaun's natural rights by trampling Piltover's inherited ones, he satisfied a universally human need for payback.

But revolution is about more than payback. It is about the equity of loss and gain.

Past suffering; future potential.

(We pay what we owe.)

(Isn't that right, Jinx?)

"How is the fresh produce faring?" Silco asks.

"There have been some setbacks. Most are expected. In time, they will be ironed out." Singed glances at his watch with a hint of anticipation. "By this time next month, I should have promising results."

"I'll stop by to see."

"Will you require more sedatives for Jinx?"

Silco shakes his head.

"At a later date then?"

"No," Silco says, with deliberate stolidity.

Singed's look is circumspect. "You'd rather have her at your throat than at rest?"

"She's at the opposite of rest." Silco flicks his thumb and pointer finger in mimicry of a switch. "The sedatives shut her body off. Her memory stays in motion. Worse than drowning, I'd think."

"And you know this because—?"

"Because she told me."

There is a tight silence. Then Singed says, "I understand… it is difficult to see one's offspring suffer. But sometimes suffering in the short term precludes worse in the long-term."

"Drugging Zaun's most gifted mind benefits neither."

Singed chuffs an ashen laugh. "I will not flatter myself you are referring to me." The humor fades. "I did warn you when I initiated the process. It would be demanding. On the girl's body—and mind. The latter is a curious organ. I could give you details about its weight, or the number of neurons. But its inner-workings remain a mystery. We can only make vague conjectures on how each experience is processed."

"Your point?"

"The sedatives are not just to minimize Jinx's outbursts. They are to keep her compliant. At this stage, it is unknown whether she is a well person who suffers the occasional lapse of control, or a sick person with the occasional good day. Time alone will reveal the Shimmer's effects. But she must be contained in the meantime. Not in your suite, but somewhere secure."

"Jinx deserves better than imprisonment."

"Tell me: if a machine in your factory were running amok, would you send it for repairs? Or let it function as usual?"

"People are not machines."

"A curious philosophy for an industrialist."

Silco scoffs, barely. Any other time, he and Singed would end up in the grip of a fierce argument—as the implacable rhetorician to Singed's interminable logician, he and the Doctor remain locked in discourse. But now that Silco has a daughter of his own, he can begin, in the vaguest way, to enter the dilemma from the other man's viewpoint.

"Would you do it, Doctor?" he asks. "If it were your child?"

"Mine was not half as deadly."

"The question stands."

Grimacing, Singed shakes his head.

The negotiations are concluded, both parties at a stalemate while still saving face. Silco standing firm and Singed retracting his roundabout request:

Let Jinx stay under observation in his lab.

A hazy corona of smoke crowns Silco's head. He pinches the heater off his cigarette, then stashes the remainder in his coat. "Whatever you believe,” he says. “Jinx is not the threat."

"Half of Piltover would disagree."

"Half of Piltover ought to try drowning in the Pilt."

"A fair number do drown."

With a finger, Silco taps his scarred cheek. "And carry its marks as medals."

"Not all are so blessed."

"Indeed not. You may not know this, but my father was the Riverman. During his tenure, he pulled out at least a thousand bodies. Not all were dead. At least fifteen clung to life, like flotsam to the shores. Some, he hauled on deck before pumping air into their lungs. The lucky ones puked up rancid riverwater, and went their merry way. The unluckier roused, at a cost. They were hauled up blue in the face, with barely a pulse. Even if saved, they seemed to stay underwater. A Piltside lobotomy."

Singed nods. "Water trauma leads to cerebral hypoxia. With each minute gone, the mind surrenders more of itself."

"I often wonder what I surrendered."

"It was a near-call for you,” Singed recalls. “Severe ataxia. Fortunately, you were pumped with adrenalin and glucosamine at my table."

"Fortunate indeed." Silco's tone holds a biting lightness. "Since then, I've seen a number of men drown in the river. Some at my orders. Others to escape their consequences. Men of keen intelligence, reduced to the brain capacity of goldfish. But others… they weren't reduced. Deep Drinkers, we call them. They found in themselves something they'd never imagined possessing. I remember one. A Piltie banker. A typical specimen: puffed-up and pompous. Yet three minutes in the Pilt, and he surfaced smiling the strangest smile. Pure epiphany. Like he finally understood his own place in the natural world."

Singed seems about to interject. Silco shuts him up with a look.

"That banker was a powerful man in Piltover. Yet his life was a bubble of pettiness. After nearly drowning, his mind blew wide open with its own unfathomable depths. Last I heard, he left everything behind. Presently, he operates in Bilgewater with the infamous Malcolm Graves. I can't say he's any safer than when I had him drowned. But he's certainly more in-tune with his base nature."

"Jinx is not a banker," Singed says blandly.

"No. She is a girl who has suffered tremendously. Seen multiple explosions of her world. Each one breaking down the safe parameters she once knew. And each time, she has survived—not by shying from her truth, but diving down to seek it. And emerge stronger."

"Even the strongest deserve respite."

"She shall have it. And whatever else she needs. But not through imprisonment, Doctor."

Singed emits a dry hum. "You see no mercy is allowing her to tread water for a time?"

"For Jinx? Treading water is inertia. She'll drown." Of her nightmares, if nothing else. "Better to take the waves as they come. Dive down to meet whatever is under her surface."

He can't tell whether Singed is smiling, or if the faint slitting of his eyes is a muscular spasm. "And if there be monsters, you will rescue her."

"Until she's capable of rescuing herself."

"Such is a father's love."

Silco stares at him, a tiny compression to his mouth. "Is your interest in this matter scientific? Or—"

"I am interested insofar as J17's progress. The rest?" For a moment, Singed's eyes retreat from behind their flat absence, like the reversed lens of a microscope. "The rest is my own solicitude."

Silco tips his head. "I never considered you the type."

"Nor I, you." Singed shrugs a bony shoulder. "But our conversation reminds me…"

"What?"

Singed's eyes pass speculatively from Silco to the rest of the chamber. As if Silco is one of its myriad test subjects. As if they both are.

"It reminds me," he says, "how a daughter can fuel one's dreams to profound heights. Or depths."

Silco treats the Doctor to his special brand of silence—two monsters separated by a half-meter and a riverside of corpses, and yet brought together by skeins of Shimmer and a single-minded goal to surmount limitations. Not for the same reasons at the start, but with a disconcerting shadow of sameness in the present.

Except Singed's daughter rests in the groves of Piltover's cemetery. Silco's own slumbers above, dreaming her hopeful dreams.

He plans to keep it that way. At any cost.

"I suppose that's fatherhood," Silco says. "It makes Deep Drinkers of us all."

[joanainthegardensofbabylon]

November 4th,

I'm gonna share with you all my reactions when I first listened to midnights. I was sharing all in real time in my 🐦 account, but I just have my friends, and unfortunately they're not swifities 🫠 BUT they're listening to taylor a LOT because of me, they all know my favorite songs lmao. I hope you all have a great day🤎

💙✨ MIDNIGHTS REVIEW 💙✨

Track 1- Lavender Haze

From the track name, clearly there is a parallel between this track with our beloved Track 6 from Lover, "I Think He Knows". The bridge is very sensual, It's really nice and smooth to be heard and answers some things that the media/fans questions her. I liked.

Track 2- Maroon

Sounds a LOT like KOMH 🖤/ Clean 💙. She said that there's no vault tracks from the other eras, but I was willing that this track was written around those 🥲 (especially bc she talks about pouring wine, reference to "Dress" and about dancing barefoot in NYC, can be ref of Cornelia Street and DWOHT) OMG F*CK the person brought CARNATIONS thinking they were roses 🥲 I'm sure It's a metaphor for being dead,bc carnations are consider funeral flowers.

Track 3- Anti-Hero

It parallels several verses of "The Archer", I heard about 3 times bc I'm in SHOCK with this song. It hurts. And also reminds me a little of "right where you left me" and "this is me trying". She knew SO MUCH leaving this song as a single. Extremely identifiable FVCK 🫥 When she's intensifying the "s" in "agrees", sounds like the hiss of a 🐍, hello reputation...

AND I LOVE the music video, SO MUCH EASTER EGGS 😰😰 blondie you're AMAZING. When she points "it's me, hi, i'm the problem it's me at tea time everybody agrees" and it parallels Alice in Wonderland, it’s genius. Especially because Alice comes in time for tea to talk to the Mad Hatter, and that was a problem. This song quotes so many fairytales, wow. I think It's a way to dissociate from the reality, that's why you're an Anti-Hero 🫠

Track 4- Snow on The Beach (ft. Lana Del Rey)

IT SOUNDS LIKE "Illicit Affairs"!!! I listened the extended version, and this song exales and smells like Lana. Absolut masterpiece. Weird but f*cking beautiful, like snow on the beach 😉

Track 5- You're On Your Own, Kid

This track is a lot relatable, feels like she knows me (I can say this about ALL her songs lol). It has SO MANY REFERENCES!!! "MAATHP", "TIWWCHNT" are examples. The fact that she was a kid delivering her demos to executives in a parking lot. The bullyings she suffered at school, the e.d. It hit's me so much, It's a beautiful sad track. Thank you darling 🥺

Track 6- Midnight Rain

This track feels purple blueish. Again I feel like "MAATHP" is referenced. It sounds similar like "Renegade" (definitely an Aaron Dessner production lmao thanks it's amazing/i love this song SO MUCH). Tay pls tell me that you're referencing "Daylight/Champagne Problems"...And I know who you're talking about hahahaha I LOVE THIS TRACK!!!!!!!

Track 7- Question...?

BLONDIE I FELT THE "Out Of The Woods" REFERENCE 🥵 This track makes so much sense, she mixes past and present, so cool. So many tracks I can make a parallel, i LOVE it!

Track 8- Vigilante Shit

It's my favorite. Tastes like victory and revenge. I felt the parallel between "I Did Something Bad" and "mad woman". It sounds like "I Know Places". It makes so much sense she's messing with me I'm in love with this track. "Lately I've been dressing for revenge/ Don't get sad, get even"

Track 9- Bejeweled ⭐️

ITS A MATCH! Our beloved "mirrorball" it's grateful for this turnaround. The music video is so perfect, I'm DEFINITELY ready for Speak Now TV✨

Track 10- Labyrinth

It reminds me a lot of "The Archer" again, as if it were a twist on the character of our darling track 5. What a delight to be able to listen to this song 💙 It hurts, of course, but it feels good. There's a million songs that remind me of this track, but are too many references for my swifitie head lmao 🤣. I know "this is me trying" and definitely labyrinth likes this song 🥹

Track 11- Karma

I laughed when I first listened to LMAO SO GOOD!!! I don't think It's necessary to talk about this track, It's self explanatory. "ME!" it's happy rn, have a sister to share the references. JOE ALWYN FIGHT WITH ME 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Track 12- Sweet Nothing 🥹

"I spy with my little tired eye" show us the pureness and youthful love of them. William Bowery I'm your fan, your songs always feels like home. It's confy, It's warming. It's a beautiful lyric track 🥺 she's expressing to us and him all her deep sensations and feelings. He is her soulmate. I can't express how I admire this song in english, even though I'm fluent. We have some words in Portuguese that unfortunately cannot be translated to the real meaning of what is this song. Wow.

Track 13- Mastermind

WOW TAYLOR!! I have NO words ENOUGH to tell you all what this song brings to THE WORLD ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ The bridge simply caused me a breakdown 🫠 Sad sad sad sad sad but so relatable. I felt this punch in my whole body. When she points that he knows all along, we knew it too. You're a mastermind blondie, and he as well 😭❤️

⭐️BONUS TRACKS⭐️

(personally my favorites from the whole album)

TRACK 14- The Great War

Aaron, you knew what you're doing. IT'S SPECTACULAR!!! Imo, should be in the normal version of the album, i'm gonna call it the sister of ivy ✨ hahahaha 🤣 Amazing bonus track, so worthy to be listened, really. A f*cking beloved lyric masterpiece. Taylor, you're a superhuman😍

TRACK 15- Bigger Than The Whole Sky

F*ck f^ck f^ck f%ck WTF I'M F&CKING SOBBING RN 😭🥲 so strong, so so sad and wonderful. "this is me trying/august" girlies are lying on the floor rn. The lyrics, the production, everything about this track It's so well done.

TRACK 16- Paris

B*TCH YOU'RE referencing DEATH BY A THOUSAND CUTS????!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAA BLONDIE YOU NEED TO CALM DOWN IT'S A LOT OF EASTER EGGS JUST FOR ONE FANDOM 🥵🥵🥵🥵 PLS LISTEN TO THIS TRACK, It smells like CROISSANT AND THE BREEZE IN A LAVANDER FIELD

TRACK 17- High Infidelity

Wait...April 29...TIWWCF launched...😳😳😳😳 she's not joking. Just a couple days before THE met gala, yes, THE ONE "flashback when you met me, your buzz cut and my hair bleached" 😶‍🌫️ I'm SPEECHLESS 😶

TRACK 18- Glitch

4 A.M. GIRL I JUMPED WITH THIS TRANSITION LMAO 😭...waiT....1290 days before today = 10/21/2016 😳🫠 F*CKKKKKKKKK TAAAAAY AND JOOOOOEEE I'M PICKING THE REFERENCES FROM GORGEOUS AND READY FOR IT... HOW DOES IT FEELS TO BE A MUSE JOE ALWYN, YOU KNOW YOU WON RAWR THE MAN IS SPARKLING THE MAN IS ON FIREEEEE

TRACK 19 - Would've, Could've, Should've ⭐️❤️‍🩹💔

I have to tell, It's my favorite song from Midnights. I am a truly speak now girlie, and I'm 19 and relate to this song. It's so personal and raw, I felt her despite and regret and PAIN. I cry so hard with this track. It feels like there's something stuck on my throat 🫥. It's definitely the most sad/desperate/ traumatic song/bridge she's ever done. I love this song, but it hurts too much. If I see this man one day, he's gonna beg me for forgive (and taylor, our special person). I'm sending you hugs and lots of love dear Taylor, really.

TRACK 20- Dear Reader ❣️

It's the perfect last track. A whole story. A whole album. The end (but not really, 'cause life's still there). She closed the album with a work of ART. Really, truly sad. But beautiful. It seems like a continuation of the speech she gave at NYU, it makes sense. It was very worth being able to listen and enjoy Midnights. I appreciate and thank you (Tay) with my whole soul for writing this song. It's a real and delicious hug. You, my dearest Taylor Swift, are a RARE person. You have a pure heart and an enlightened soul.

With all the Love,

Joana (@joanainthegardensofbabylon)

[drakesmed3]

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Trump breaks silence on Israel's military campaign in Gaza: 'Finish the problem'

Story by Vaughn Hillyard and Allan Smith

 

PALM BEACH, Fla. — Former President Donald Trump declared Tuesday that Israel must “finish the problem” in its war against Hamas, his most definitive position on the conflict since the terror group killed 1,200 Israelis and took more than 200 hostages on Oct. 7.

“You’ve got to finish the problem,” Trump said on Fox News on Tuesday when asked about the war. “You had a horrible invasion that took place that would have never happened if I was president.”

When asked on the program whether he supported a cease-fire in Gaza, Trump demurred, avoiding an explicit position on Israel’s military effort that has now also left more than 30,000 people dead in Gaza, according to the Palestinian Health Ministry. The likely 2024 Republican nominee has not provided his own position on U.S. or Israel's strategy throughout the five months of the war. 

Though a stalwart defender of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s administration during his presidency, Trump has also attempted to strike an anti-war posture on the campaign trail in the last year, attempting to contrast himself from President Joe Biden and his remaining Republican rival, Nikki Haley. 

“Frankly, they got soft,” Trump said on Tuesday about the Biden administration, claiming that the aggression by foreign adversaries would not have happened if he were still president.

“That should never have happened. Likewise, Russia would never have attacked Ukraine," he said.

While Tuesday’s comments offered the strongest signal yet from Trump of what direction Israel should take, he has yet to offer specific thoughts or proposals on how much the U.S. should be involved financially, how hostage negotiations should be handled, the plight of Gaza’s civilian population or whether leaders should pursue a one- or two-state solution to the conflict.

Reached for comment by NBC News, the Trump campaign promoted the former president’s record on Israel and blamed Biden for the ongoing turmoil in the Middle East.

“President Trump did more for Israel than any American President in history, and he took historic action in the Middle East that created unprecedented peace,” Karoline Leavitt, Trump’s national press secretary, said in a statement, adding, "When President Trump is back in the Oval Office, Israel will once again be protected, Iran will go back to being broke, terrorists will be hunted down, and the bloodshed will end.”

Just days after Hamas attacked Israel, Trump, in a video posted from his Mar-a-Lago estate here, declared: “I kept Israel safe. Nobody else will. Nobody else can. And I know all of the players — they can’t do it.”

Trump did lay out a few markers in the three weeks that followed the Hamas attack. He said on Oct. 11 that a future Trump administration would “fully support Israel defeating, dismantling, and permanently destroying the terrorist group Hamas,” while telling the Republican Jewish Coalition later that month that Hamas fighters “will burn forever in the eternal pit of hell." That month, his campaign also said that, if elected again, he would bar Gaza residents from entering the U.S. as part of an expanded travel ban.

In the four months since, however, the former president’s once-ardent public backing of Israel has gone mostly quiet.

That silence has run parallel to Biden increasingly coming under fire from left-wing and Muslim American voters for his support of Israel’s response to the Oct. 7 attack. A coalition of voters is campaigning for Democratic primary voters to vote “uncommitted” or for similar ballot choices, as some backed in Michigan, where the “uncommitted” vote earned more than 13% in last week’s Democratic presidential primary there — a small uptick from the nearly 11% who voted “uncommitted” in the 2012 primary, when then-President Barack Obama ran unopposed.

In recent weeks, the Biden administration has increased its criticism of Israel but has stopped short of cutting off military aid. Biden is currently pushing for a six-week cease-fire deal that includes the release of dozens of hostages still held by Hamas.

The Biden campaign declined a request for comment from NBC News.

In the immediate aftermath of the Oct. 7 attack, Trump expressed his ire at Netanyahu, who congratulated Biden after his 2020 election win, saying the Israeli prime minister had “let us down” by allegedly backing out of what Trump said was supposed to be a joint U.S.-Israel operation to launch the airstrike that killed Iranian Gen. Qassem Soleimani in 2020. Days later, Trump posted to his Truth Social platform that he stood with the Israeli premier after pushback from some GOP rivals. 

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The prominent pastor, who leads a congregation of more than 10,000 in Dallas, met with Trump at Mar-a-Lago in February and discussed the support of evangelicals. 

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Maureen Maldonado, an author and a Christian radio host, said she understood why Trump wasn’t as vocal on Israel as some supporters might expect.

“He’s a friend of Israel,” she said. “It’s all political, and he needs to get into office before anything. He’s got to play the game.” 

[iraempirecom]

Bart Kitner Kitco

Kitco's president and founder, Bart Kitner, has been purchasing and selling genuine precious metals for over 30 years, earning a reputation as one of the most reputable names in the bullion industry. In the late 1970s, a motivated young guy with an eye for chances made his initial forays into the corporate world.

Bart Kitner was a college student with a modest $700 loan at the time, but his vision was anything from little. His story is the driving force behind Kitco, one of the most trusted names in the precious metals market today. For detailed information, check out: Kitco Reviews

Bart Kitner: Early Days

Kitner’s journey began with a simple but overlooked business niche. He began by buying scrap gold from various jewellers across Eastern Canada. After refining the gold, he sold the pure gold grain to larger industry players. This business model, though modest, was the foundation upon which Kitner built his empire. Upon graduating from McGill University, Kitner decided to venture full-time into his business. He soon expanded his operations into other industrial areas. By the late 1990s, Kitner had successfully ventured into the precious metals products market.

Bart Kitner: Launch of Kitco.com

1995 marked a significant turn in Kitner's business journey. He launched Kitco.com, taking his business online during the early years of the Internet.

This move democratized market information such as prices, trends, and news, which were previously guarded by a few big players. Kitco.com soon became the go-to source for precious metals market information. Today, Kitco has grown from a small apartment-based business into a global enterprise. The company now boasts offices in Montreal, New York, and Hong Kong. The entrepreneurial spirit that marked Kitner's early years continues to drive the company forward.

Kitco News: A Trusted Source for Market Insights

Kitco News, the journalistic division of Kitco, provides in-depth articles and videos on market trends and news. It was one of the first organizations to cover the Gold Anti-Trust Action Committee's (GATA) lawsuit against the Federal Reserve. It also focuses on issues such as conflict minerals in the Congo. Bart Kitner: Business Model One of Kitco’s main business lines is the purchase of scrap precious metals. The company pays its supplier's sales taxes on these purchases and receives tax credits for the corresponding amounts. However, the company has faced challenges with some suppliers failing to repay the taxes owed, leading to legal disputes. Kitco’s Creditor Protection Journey In 2011, following a raid by Revenue Quebec, Kitco was granted CCAA creditor protection by the courts, similar to U.S. Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection. The company has since paid most of its creditors in full, with others receiving partial payments. The company continues to contest allegations by ARQ.

Kitco Pool: An Innovative Approach to Precious Metals Investment

Kitco offers unallocated precious metals accounts, known as "Kitco Pool." These accounts, backed by the "general stock" of the dealer, function like IOUs. In the event of bankruptcy, a pool holder would become an unsecured creditor of the company. However, Kitco has addressed these concerns by stating that the Kitco Pool is 100% backed by physical precious metals, segregated from Kitco's own assets and entirely belonging to Kitco Pool customers.

Why Are Investors Diversifying Their Portfolio?

Experts agree that the financial market is now even more fragile than pre-2008. Will your retirement portfolio weather the imminent financial crisis? Threats are many. Pick your poison..

The financial system would be in great peril if one or more big banks fail. "When we get to a downturn, banks won't have the cushion to absorb the losses. Without a cushion, we will have 2008 and 2009 again."

Student debt, which has been on a steep rise for years, could figure greatly in the next credit downturn. "There are parallels to 2008: There are massive amounts of unaffordable loans being made to people who can't pay them"

The US national debt has spiked $1 trillion in less than 6 months! "If we keep throwing gas on flames with deficit spending, I worry about how severe the next downturn is going to be--and whether we have enough bullets left ,"

Total household debt rose to an all-time high of $13.67 trillion at year-end 2019. "Any type of secured lending backed by an asset that is overvalued should be a concern… that is what happened with housing." Get in touch with an expert using the button down below: The Future of Kitco: Continuing the Legacy Kitco's journey from a small college startup to a global precious metals enterprise is a testament to Bart Kitner's entrepreneurial spirit and vision. Despite challenges and market changes, Kitco continues to stand as a reliable name in the industry. With its commitment to transparency, innovation, and customer service, Kitco continues to shape the future of the precious metals market.

Conclusion

In conclusion, Bart Kitner's Kitco is a shining example of how a simple idea, backed by hard work and a keen eye for opportunities, can revolutionize an industry. Today, Kitco stands tall as a trusted source of precious metals market information and a reliable platform for precious metals trading. Despite the challenges it has faced, Kitco's commitment to its customers and its innovative approach has ensured its continued success in the ever-evolving financial market. Opening a precious metals IRA is a major decision. That's why I suggest checking out our top gold IRA providers list. There, you can find the best precious metals dealer in your state and choose accordingly. Also, the list will help you understand what the industry's best has to offer. Furthermore, it helps with what you might miss out on. Find the best Gold IRA company in your state Read the full article