#he cant draw any hard lines or convictions

[yourstormthlaylirahh]

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[somethingjustsouthofbrilliance]

Tears of an Angel (Crowley/Aziraphale)

Right... so I saw this beautiful, heartrending artwork post and... I couldn’t help myself.  I didn’t think I could ever do this, but... I’m sorry.  I am truly sorry. 

Warning: Major Character Death

Tagging: @tonystark5ever @giulisetta @swanheart69

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Adam’s wedding day is beautiful – a gorgeous, sun-stroked jewel of late summer, imbued with an intoxicating scent of honeysuckle and freshly cut grass. Not a hint of clouds in the brilliant blue sky that smiles down at the happy mingle of guests: some chatting amicably with those around them, others indulging, somewhat furtively but with obvious pleasure, in the impressive spread of refreshments heaped onto the white-clothed tables, others still swaying blissfully to the soft, enchanting sounds of music.

 It’s perfect.  And Crowley wouldn’t have expected it to be anything but.  Adam, after all, is still, to this day, the Spawn of Satan, whom he so bravely, so brilliantly rejected all those years ago.  And that means, reality is very much still his to change the way he pleases.

 Crowley can’t find it in himself to complain.

 He leans casually back against the side of a gazebo, arms crossed on his chest. Smiles fondly as he watches Anathema drag Aziraphale out into the dancing area, the angel shooting a pleading look Crowley’s way before submitting to the inevitable with a resigned huff, hurriedly shoving the remainder of a strawberry tart into his mouth.

 Oh, angel…

 “Interesting setup you got here.”

 He straightens out instantly, all sense of leisure gone from his posture, tension bleeding from every line of his body.

 “What do you want, Hastur?”

 “I’ve been watching you two,” the demon drawls out ominously from behind him – an oppressive, dangerous presence just off to the side, just out of his line of sight.  And Crowley fights the urge to turn around; suppresses the frisson of unease the demon’s presence sends down his spine.

 “What do you want?” he repeats in a growl of forced annoyance, even as his metaphorical heart clenches in mounting fear.  Hastur’s been watching them.  All these years.  Does it mean he figured out their swap? Does it mean he knows?

 “I know you tricked us,” Hastur answers his unspoken question, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice telling Crowley the demon noticed his panic despite Crowley’s best efforts.  “I don’t know how you did it, but…” There’s an ugly bark of laughter – like a crack of a dry twig underfoot, followed by rustle of clothes and an overwhelmingly strong presence, dark, magical.  “I don’t really care.”

 And Crowley can’t help turning around now.  Can’t help looking down at Hastur’s gloved hand, at the wicked-looking knife held cautiously in its grip. Can’t help the nasty, cold feeling that claws at his chest when he sees the flame-red sigils carved into the darkened blade.

 “Oh, good, you recognize it.” Hastur’s smiling at him now – a dark, sadistically gleeful grin.  Turns the blade in his hand in a mockery of awed contemplation.  “A hellfire-forged blade with holy sigils – a perfect weapon against any being, ethereal or demonic.” Growls out low, his upper lip curling in predatory anticipation, “Heaven and Hell will be happy to see both of you gone.  Me personally? After watching the two of you for a bit? I think killing just one of you will make for a far better torture.”  He waves his free hand in the air, a look of almost blissful dreaminess spreading across his face.  

 Crowley grinds his teeth together in helpless rage, glances back out to where his angel is fumbling dreadfully across from Anathema in a poor imitation of dancing, blissfully unaware of the danger lurking only a few feet away.  Flinches when he feels Hastur shift closer.

 “I’m feeling generous today, Serpent,” he murmurs, the smell of swamp and rot wafting over the side of Crowley’s face.  “I’m gonna let you choose.”

 Choose.  A bitter smile twitches at the corners of Crowley’s lips, his eyes never leaving the achingly dear white-haired form in a cream color jacket.  What is there to choose, really?  His choice has been made over 6000 years ago, standing on that wall in the Garden of Eden next to a beautiful, mystifying angel who gave away his sword to protect humans and then proceeded to shield a demon from the First Rain.

 He doesn’t even have to think about it.

 “Me,” he states calmly, ignoring the sharp pang in his heart at the thought that this is it for him, that he will never see his angel again.  “Take me.”  Turns briefly back to his unwelcome companion to glare murderously into the bottomless dark pools of his eyes.  “But thisss isss it, Hastur,” he hisses, low and menacing, putting all of his venom, all of his demonic, serpentine conviction into the words.  “After thisss our debt isss paid in full. Nobody touches the angel, understood? Not your lot, not the Heaven.  And you will make sure of that.”  He leans in closer, eyes bleeding a terrifyingly hypnotic, poisonous yellow. “You will make sure of that, Hasssstur, or I swear on all that is unholy, that I will find a way to come back, and I will make you wish you were the first one through my office door that day instead of Ligur.” He lets his upper lip curl, lets his fangs slide out in warning. “Undersssstood?”

 Hastur’s lips twist in an echoing snarl, but Crowley can see the minute perturbation on the other demon’s face, knows his threat (bluff, yes, but Hastur has no way of knowing that) has hit its mark.

 “Meet me in the cemetery behind the church,” the Duke of Hell spits out, nodding blindly in the direction of the small village church that hosted the wedding ceremony a mere hour ago.  And disappears in a cloud of thick gray smoke.

 Crowley remains where he is a moment longer.  Lets his gaze linger on Aziraphale for one last time, drinking in the sight of his dancing angel – so blessedly carefree, so endearingly clumsy, so unfailingly good, so… so… beautiful.  He sighs, smiling despite the traitorous, anguished tremble of his lips.  Closes his eyes, letting that final image of Aziraphale become engrained in his memory. And follows Hastur to his doom.

 He doesn’t see Aziraphale turning to glance in his direction an instant before he disappears from view.

 ***

 He reappears but a moment later in the place of Hastur’s choosing.  Stumbles a bit on the uneven surface of a freshly laid grave.

 And gasps, his breath choked off and stolen, as sharp pain explodes below his ribcage, doubling him over with the force of the blow.  A wave of power rushes through him – angelic and demonic, woven together to create a monumental, monstrous hybrid of destruction.  Cold and fiery, deadly and unstoppable, sluicing through his veins to tear him apart, piece by piece by piece.

 He reaches forward on instinct, grabbing blindly, convulsively for the support of the putrid smelling shape that materializes in front of him.  Groans pathetically as Hastur shoves the blade deeper with a hard, vicious thrust.  And shudders, his fingers unclasping, nerveless, from the demon’s sleeve, as Hastur yanks the blade out and steps quickly back out of reach.

 “We are even now,” Hastur observes dispassionately as Crowley sinks to his knees before him onto the clumpy ground, one hand pressed uselessly against the bleeding gaping hole in his chest, the other seeking purchase in the loose dirt.  Cringes with sympathetic fear as Crowley draws in another harsh, labored wheeze of a breath, face twisting at the ever-mounting pain.

“It was quicker for Ligur,” he notes darkly, sheathing the blade and putting it away into the folds of his coat. “Merciful almost, compared to yours.”

His cheek twitches minutely, a fire of grim satisfaction flashing in the black depths.  Then, suddenly, he squats down before the injured demon, stares unblinking into the wide, pain-glazed eyes.  

“But perhaps you can be thankful for a chance to say goodbye.”  He cants his head to the side, nodding at something in the distance.

 Blearily, Crowley follows his motion, and the cold that fills his chest no longer has anything to do with his impending death.  Because there, weaving his way toward them between the maze of tombstones, is the angel, his angel.

 No.

 He grasps for Hastur��s coat again, gritting his teeth at the fresh flare of pain that rips through him at the unsanctioned movement.

 “Your promisssse… re… remember your…,” his voice cuts out, his throat spasming from a sudden buildup of pressure that drowns the rest of his words in a vicious gurgle of a cough that spills forth in a spectacular spray of blood.

 He gasps, breathless, against the intensity of it.  Squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, missing the grimace of disgust that flits across Hastur’s face as the demon raises his hand to vanish the bloody splatter that carried from his former colleague to settle on his face and clothes.

 “I have not forgotten, Serpent,” he grouches, extricating himself once again from Crowley’s feeble grip. Straightens back out, making a show of dusting off his forever-filthy coat. His cheek twitches again – a tell of discomfort, as he forces out the parting words of (questionable) reassurance. “Have a nice… death.”

 A snap of fingers and the Duke of Hell vanishes from sight, and then the angel is there, kneeling on the ground before Crowley, hands pawing frantically at the darkened, bleeding hole in the middle of his chest; grasping Crowley’s shoulders as he sways alarmingly on his gradually weakening knees.  

Crowley tries to steady himself, tries to look strong for his angel, but the devastating power ravaging his essence has already done too much damage, and he can’t help but succumb, slumping forward into Aziraphale’s chest with a helpless groan.

 “Crowley?”

 The angel’s voice trembles, tinged with desperation and fear, and Crowley can feel the same anxious tremble in the arms that wrap themselves around him; can hear the panicked beat of the angel’s heart.  This will not do, he thinks, sluggish.  He can’t leave his angel like this – so desperate, so panicked.  He has to–

 “I can’t… I can’t heal it. What…. Crowley, darling, please, what’s–?”

 “Shhhhh….” He forces his head up, forces his weakened hand to move.  Presses a shaking finger to the beautiful plump lips that he has been so fortunate, so privileged to taste in these past few years.  How incredibly, insanely lucky he was!  

“Shhh,” he repeats, running careful, gentle fingers across the angel’s cheek, wiping away a streak of golden tears that trails down the soft pale skin. Frowns when fresh tears begin to trickle down the same track.  This isn’t right, he thinks. Aziraphale shouldn’t be… he can’t…

 “Don’t cry,” he pleads, voice raspy and shaking with pain that is becoming harder and harder to conceal. But he will try.  He has to try. For his angel.  “S’okay… Zira… sss’okay.  I cho…chose this… My choicssssse…”

 Tear-filled blue eyes widen in understanding, the angel glancing briefly at a spot where Hastur stood only moments ago, before shifting his grief-stricken, horrified gaze back to Crowley.

 “No…,” he whines, tears falling harder now, as his arms tighten around Crowley’s shivering form in mounting despair.  “No, Crowley… Crowley, you can’t….”

 Crowley blinks at him fondly, a faint smile pulling at his blood-stained lips.  “S’okay,” he exhales, fighting to speak against the gradually thickening blanket of darkness that begins to weigh down on him, threatening to pull him under.  He can’t let it happen.  Not yet. He needs to get the angel to understand, needs to explain.  He knows that, once he surrenders to that darkness, he won’t get another chance.

 “I had to… They won’t… won’t bother you now.  Not any…anymore.”  

 It’s important that Aziraphale knows this.  Because it’s something that’s been bothering the both of them all these years – the fear that Heaven or Hell or both will be coming for them any moment.  It dampened the serenity, the pleasure of that short time they spent together, forcing them to constantly look over their shoulders. But no more, no more…

 What little strength he has left to keep himself upright runs out and he sags, boneless, in Aziraphale’s feverish embrace, their foreheads touching.  

Aziraphale is saying something, the angel’s breath hot and suspiciously wet against his skin, but Crowley can’t hear him, not anymore – the darkness pulling at him, engulfing his senses.

 “Kiss me,” he asks instead – a barely there whisper.  

 He can hardly feel his arms anymore, but he manages somehow to raise one, to hook it feebly around the back of Aziraphale’s neck, smearing blood onto the white curls.  Tugs, trying to urge the angel closer.  

 There’s barely any discernible pressure behind his gesture, but Aziraphale follows it nevertheless. Surges forward with a choked off sob, closing the already negligible gap between their mouths, latching on to Crowley’s lips as a man wandering for days in the sweltering heat of the desert latches on to the refreshing watery escape of an oasis.

 The fear of loss, the desperate denial, the frantic need to hold on, and the love – overwhelming, all-encompassing, unfaltering love: Crowley reads it all on the trembling, tear-stained lips that cling to his own.  It’s warm, the angel’s kiss.  So beautifully warm against the numbing, agonizing cold that fills his entire being.  

 He closes his eyes, sinks deeper into the kiss, trying to capture as much of that warmth as he can, to bask in his angel’s essence before darkness pulls him away for good.

 It isn’t long now, he can feel it.  Can feel himself falling, breaking will-lessly away from the soft anchor of Aziraphale’s lips – the warm light of his angel’s presence growing dimmer and dimmer, until only a tiny spark remains in the thick, stifling darkness that swathes his mind.

 He latches on to it, weakly, stubbornly.  Peels his eyes open, unsurprised to find the angel leaning over him, his face – a pale, haloed blur for his failing sight.  But even now, faded almost beyond recognition, he’s still the most beautiful thing Crowley has ever seen.

 He tells him so. Releases the truth of it on the final exhale his corporation’s lungs allow him.  Along with a faint susurrant confession, “Love you… angel…”

 A soft, wet splatter of a warm, golden tear on his ice-cold cheek is the last thing he feels.

FIN

[socksual-innuendos]

Im bored so yall get some Graham chatter. I think trying to fit Joshua into a redemption arc in HH takes away a lot of what makes him a good character. The man is performative and skeevy as fuck and it gives him better angle than ‘guy trying to do good but fucks up’ ever will. The DLC forces you to partake in some way with their war against the White Legs, and from an outsiders’ POV (which you have) you only know a few things. Objectively, you know that Graham is ex-Legion and was known for his brutality as Legate. Subjectively, we hear from Chalk he’s changed and Daniel/New Canaan accepted him back and kept him for the past five years. Other than that you have to draw your own conclusions on the man.

Which we know how he acts during the DLC, but we have no idea how Graham was during those five years before HH. I dont know if Daniel knew him personally, but he has dialogues relating to Graham that I dont think can be chalked up to “We knew what he did as Legate”. What I mean, when Daniel tells you that Graham will burn everything along side him, hes pulling from time he’s spent around Graham rather than what he knows of the Legate, necessarily. God forgives and forgets, so why wouldn’t New Canaan? If they don’t condemn him for being Legate, then why would Daniel say what he does about Graham if those qualities still didnt hold true. After all, he does warn you that Joshua will try very hard to convince you to his side, and that we “dont know him”. Makes me wonder if he had tried to convince part of his own tribe to join in his efforts.

I thought this was a bug at first but I think its worth mentioning on the off chance it isnt. My courier wasnt willing to help Graham when they first talked. She also wasnt gonna put in effort to shake down Daniel. If you give Graham a hard time about helping, he stops talking to you outside of a greeting dialogue and the quest to find items never triggers. I didnt try talking to Daniel afterwards, but if this was intentional in the story it again shows you how bent Graham is on his goals and how prideful he still is. Not willing to help? He isnt going to beg, and you already decided to be stubborn. Go ahead and try to survive this valley without the map.

And heres the kicker I think people miss. He knows how to appear and what to say to get what he wants. I think a lot of people discredit him in strategical areas because its easy to fall into a “loooool he fell into an obvious trap at Boulder City ecks-dee” joking mindset. He was still a Legate for 30 something years, he isnt a complete idiot, but we can see how his ego gets in the way of his rational thinking. And to the people who want to give him a chance or want to believe he’s better, he’s playing directly on that soft spot. He says a lot of things that he /thinks/ will convince you he’s in this for the ‘right’ reasons, that he’s not falling back into old tendencies, but he can later confess it was all for personal revenge. Hell, his dialogues about Caesar, ‘hate the sin love the sinner, but theres a lot of sin to look through’ seems to be poorly tailored considering he never once openly condemns /LEGION/ (never Legion, just Caesar). And why should he? He helped make the damn thing, a lot of the rules were likely his own convictions.

Which raises the issue of not knowing how I want to take his “best” ending. I dont recall the exact words, but they were along the lines of ‘the tribes dont need to see you do this’ to get him to stop. He then confesses he “always has that fire”, which regardless of whether he means that in a repentant way or just telling us what he thinks we want to hear, shows that he /does know/ what his issues are. Furthering that, he does change his behavior enough when not killing Salt that it warrents a seperate ending. Its only /slightly/ different, he still likes power and violently asserting it or whatever, but he shows mercy at times without needing someone standing over him to tell him to do it (which infantilizes him, like he isnt aware of what hes doing— false) nor does he do it because he thinks people are watching (in which he’d be completely unrepentant and would act the way he percieves others want him to act— also false). Its another layer of character, because regardless of how exactly he views the Dead Horses, he still budges enough on his brutality (showing he can and did make conscious effort to chill) that it goes noticed. On the flip side, he actually gets /worse/ if you let him have revenge. Youre teetering his scales, but I wont say one side is “road to redemption”, but I cant place both as “evil” either.

But yeah, Ill say it again. I do not think Graham staying with the Dead Horses allows him any sort of ‘redemption’ ending or allowance to change for the ultimate better. It still enables him to fall back into old, bad habits regardless of what the courier does and how it effects him. Which this again wraps back to my original thought of veiwing him through a “made for a redemption arc” looking glass detracts from his character and weakens his writing sevearly.

[multiimuse]

🌀~

12. — stranger 

Radiant Garden, Naminé thinks, might truly end up becoming a home. She’s never had a home before; all she’s ever lived in were prisons. This castle, though --- shadows cling to it in places, in a few corners and rooms, but it feels like a home that’s being cleaned up and put to rights. Just like the lives of those that called it home before this world fell; none of them are perfect people, but they’ve all been so kind, and she thinks she likes staying here. Today, she’s sitting just outside of the castle, on a step that leads down to exposed pipeworks that might have led into one of the world’s namesake gardens back in better days.

Her sketchpad is in her lap, her pencil case beside her, and she’s drawing. Of late, her drawings have been of the people and things around her; her own experiences rather than those of Sora or Roxas. She’s drawn things that catch her eye, or presents for the people she cares about. Today, however, she’s drawing from memory; trying to reconcile something in her own head. Absently, she reaches for a pencil that will make a good skintone, and lets her mind drift back. This picture is going to be hard, and the only way she can get it right is to let her mind carry her to where it needs to go.

The endless expanse of sky and clear water is beautiful, and calming, but it’s also lonely. It reminds Naminé of her earliest emotions, her desperation for company and rescue, and though it’s peaceful here she can’t feel happy. She hasn’t managed to hold on to enough of herself to hold a true form, but she can sense the others here, and knows that Sora is attempting to gather his pieces up so that he can save everyone.

Time has little meaning in a place like this, so for now all she can do is wait --- wait, and be ready to reach out to a heart and mind still struggling against the darkness that’s overtaken him. But waiting is lonely, and it hurts, and if she had been able to hold onto a form she thinks she would have dropped to her knees from the weight of it. As it is, she sighs, a fragile sound that is at once nearly inaudible and echoing, only to find the sound mirrored by another voice.Oh. Oh, she’s drifted near another presence --- one as sad and lonely as she is. There’s no hiding things like that here, where the small bits of yourself you still possess are on display. (It’s why, she thinks, she couldn’t fool Sora when they spoke; that and the kindhearted boy’s own sensitivity.)

“Hello,” she greets that other presence, hoping she’s correct in thinking that this person is aware enough to respond.

“Hello,” the stranger says, sounding both shy and tired in a way that reminds Naminé of... well, herself. “You spoke with Sora, too? Is he a friend of yours?”

Now this is familiar territory, and if Naminé had enough of herself to nod, she would. As it is, conviction strengthens her voice. “Yes,” she says. “I’m Naminé, and I’m waiting for him to save his other friends --- and... and me, too, I guess.” And then, she thinks, she’ll have done her part to save him and everyone else, too.

“I see,” the stranger says, and falls quiet. They both drift in silence for a time, and Naminé thinks that might be that --- until, just as suddenly as she’d approached, that soft voice speaks up again. “I don’t know my name any more, but I’m waiting for someone, too. I’ve been waiting... a very long time, I think.” The wistful, sad tone of her voice pulls at Naminé, distracts her from her own resignation, and she finds herself wondering if, while shes’ here, she might not be able to offer some comfort to another lost soul.

“I’m sorry,” she says, expressing her sympathy for the lost name and the waiting alike. “Can you tell me about the one you’re waiting for? They sound very important to you.”

“He is,” comes the response, carrying with it so much love and sadness that Naminé thinks it might become tangible, here in this place beyond worlds. “And I suppose I could tell you a little, but his name’s a secret~!’ 

Even now, Naminé can remember it clearly. They spoke for what might have been hours, had time been a thing, or maybe it was only a few minutes. But either way, she learned about the person her nameless companion was waiting for: he was kind, and gentle, well-spoken and, apparently, a bit vain. He had lost himself, his memory and his heart alike, and become someone unrecognizable.

She reaches for another pencil, letting her heart guide her fingers, and starts working on her drawing’s eyes. Naminé’s already completed the hair, though her hand shook and made the pencil veer off in directions she didn’t want it to go. Picking out a clear, bright blue, she begins filling in the eyes. She bites her lip hard enough to hurt, but doesn’t let herself falter. This was always going to be hard, but she wanted --- no, she needed to do it. If she doesn’t follow through with it now, she thinks she’ll be losing something.

When that’s done, she sets the pencil aside and tips the sketchpad back, surveying her work. A bust of Marluxia stares up at her, pink hair falling to a shoulder line that is the bottom of the drawing. But the blue eyes and smile that grace his features are soft, a gentleness to them that is a far cry from the cold and terrifying man she knew. It’s frightening, to think about that man still existing, but he has as much right to his humanity as anyone else --- as much right to his heart as Saïx, who had been cruel to Xion and Roxas but is now being tentatively welcomed as a friend.

Looking at the strangely gentle smile on a face that had always been distant and cruel, Naminé lets herself wonder if there’s anyone who misses him.

[patriotsnet]

How Can Republicans Win The House

New Post has been published on https://www.patriotsnet.com/how-can-republicans-win-the-house/

How Can Republicans Win The House

House Republicans’ 2022 Strategy To Beat Democrats: Target Socialist Agenda And Job Killing Policies

How Republicans can win back the White House

House Republicans have laid out their path to winning back the chamber they came close to flipping in 2020. They plan to rely on a similar playbook: slamming the Democrats as socialists who will implement “job killing policies,” while at the same time downplaying any divisions within the GOP.

Since President Biden has taken office, the National Republican Congressional Committee has honed in on the impacts of closing the Keystone XL pipeline and delays in reopening schools.

“It’s going to come down to two different agendas: one is about freedom one is about having the right to self-determine your economic freedom, your individual liberties. The other one is about big government,” National Republican Congressional Committee chair Tom Emmer said in a call with reporters on Wednesday.;

“Every voter is going to have a clear understanding of the Democrats’ socialist agenda and the damaging impact it’s going to have on their daily lives.”

The party is;targeting 47 Democrats and needs a net gain of five seats to flip the chamber. The committee has split its targets into three categories: battleground districts where Mr. Biden lost or won by less than 5%; districts where House Democrats trailed his margins or where they won by less than 10%; and districts in states expected to add or lose congressional districts.

“Liz Cheney not losing her position really showed, ‘Okay we’re going to move on,'” she said.

Reality Check : The Democrats Legislative Fix Will Never Happenand Doesnt Even Touch The Real Threats

Its understandable why Democrats have ascribed a life-or-death quality to S. 1, the For the People bill that would impose a wide range of requirements on state voting procedures. The dozensor hundredsof provisions enacted by Republican state legislatures and governors represent a determination to ensure that the GOP thumb will be on the scale at every step of the voting process. The proposed law would roll that back on a national level by imposing a raft of requirements on statesno excuse absentee voting, more days and hours to votebut would also include public financing of campaigns, independent redistricting commissions and compulsory release of presidential candidates’ tax returns.

There are all sorts of Constitutional questions posed by these ideas. But theres a more fundamental issue here: The Constitutional clause on which the Democrats are relyingArticle I, Section 4, Clause 1gives Congress significant power over Congressional elections, but none over elections for state offices or the choosing of Presidential electors.

Opinion: The House Looks Like A Gop Lock In 2022 But The Senate Will Be Much Harder

Redistricting will take place in almost every congressional district in the next 18 months. The party of first-term presidents usually loses seats in midterms following their inauguration President Barack Obamas Democrats lost 63 seats in 2010 and President Donald Trumps Republicans lost 40 in 2018 but the redistricting process throws a wrench into the gears of prediction models.

President George W. Bush saw his party add nine seats in the House in 2002. Many think this was a consequence of the 9/11 terrorist attacks on America nearly 14 months earlier, but the GOP, through Republican-led state legislatures, controlled most of the redistricting in the two years before the vote, and thus gerrymandering provided a political benefit. Republicans will also have a firm grip on redistricting ahead of the 2022 midterms.

The Brennan Center has found that the GOP will enjoy complete control of drawing new boundaries for 181 congressional districts, compared with a maximum of 74 for Democrats, though the final numbers could fluctuate once the pandemic-delayed census is completed. Gerrymandering for political advantage has its critics, but both parties engage in it whenever they get the opportunity. In 2022, Republicans just have much better prospects. Democrats will draw districts in Illinois and Massachusetts to protect Democrats, while in Republican-controlled states such as Florida, Ohio and Texas, the GOP will bring the redistricting hammer down on Democrats.

Don’t Miss: 1998 People Magazine Trump Quote

Voting With The Party

This section was last updated in 2014.

The following data comes from OpenCongress, a website that tracks how often members of Congress vote with the majority of their party caucus.

The average Republican voted with the party approximately 93.6 percent of the time.

The average Republican voted with the party approximately 94.3 percent of the time.

The top Republican voted with the party approximately 98.2 percent of the time.

The bottom Republican voted with the party approximately 75.1 percent of the time.

Reality Check : Biden Cant Be Fdr

Theres no question that Biden is swinging for the fences. Beyond the emerging bipartisan infrastructure bill, he has proposed a far-reaching series of programs that would collectively move the United States several steps closer to the kind of social democracy prevalent in most industrialized nations: free community college, big support for childcare and homebound seniors, a sharp increase in Medicaid, more people eligible for Medicare, a reinvigorated labor movement. It is why 100 days into the administration, NPR was asking a commonly heard question: Can Biden Join FDR and LBJ In The Democratic Party’s Pantheon?

But the FDR and LBJ examples show conclusively why visions of a transformational Biden agenda are so hard to turn into reality. In 1933, FDR had won a huge popular and electoral landslide, after which he had a three-to-one Democratic majority in the House and a 59-vote majority in the Senate. Similarly, LBJ in 1964 had won a massive popular and electoral vote landslide, along with a Senate with 69 Democrats and a House with 295. Last November, on the other hand, only 42,000 votes in three key states kept Trump from winning re-election. Democrats losses in the House whittled their margin down to mid-single digits. The Senate is 50-50.

Don’t Miss: When Did The Democratic And Republican Parties Switch Platforms

The 2024 Presidential Election Will Be Close Even If Trump Is The Gop Nominee

One very important thing we should have all taken away from both the 2016 and 2020 presidential contests is that the two major parties are in virtual equipose . The ideological sorting-out of the two parties since the 1960s has in turn led to extreme partisan polarization, a decline in ticket-splitting and and in number of genuine swing voters. Among other things, this has led to an atmosphere where Republicans have paid little or no price for the extremism theyve disproportionately exhibited, or for the bad conduct of their leaders, most notably the 45th president.

Indeed, the polarized climate encourages outlandish and immoral base mobilization efforts of the sort Trump deployed so regularly. Some Republicans partisans shook their heads sadly and voted the straight GOP ticket anyway, And to the extent there were swing voters they tended strongly to believe that both parties were equally guilty of excessive partisanship, and/or that all politicians are worthless scum, so why not vote for the worthless scum under whom the economy hummed?

The bottom line is that anyone who assumes Republicans are in irreversible decline in presidential elections really hasnt been paying attention.

Can Republicans Win The House

The Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee came out with a memo yesterday asserting that the House was not likely to land in Republican hands, but Nate Silver thinks its more likely than Democrats may want to admit:

The DNCC memo, of course,; is meant to serve a purpose other than providing an accurate forecast of November theyre trying to make sure that the base doesnt become so demoralized that they stay home and make a bad election even worse.

Im still not certain that Republicans can take back the House, but its certainly possible for the reasons Silver points out.

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How Republicans Can Win In 2022

STUART WESBURY | Special to LNP | LancasterOnline

For Republicans, the only goal must be to win back the U.S. House and Senate in the 2022 midterm elections.

That should be easy. In November, even though Donald Trump was not reelected president, the down-ballot races boded well for the GOPs future. But we Republicans are not acting like we want to win anything. So where do we go from here?

Of late, Republicans have separated themselves into several distinct groups, each with a different attitude and view.

For one group, retribution is the goal. These enthusiastic Trump supporters, distressed by the seven Republican U.S. senators who found Trump guilty in his second impeachment trial, are in a very unhappy mood. While the Republican Committee of Lancaster County did not pass a vote to censure Sen. Pat Toomey, other local committees did. The Pennsylvania Republican Party rebuked, rather than censured, Toomey.

The other senators who voted with Toomey to convict Trump were subjected to a variety of admonishments, as was, most notably, U.S. Rep. Liz Cheney of Wyoming. It began to look like an inquisition.

This is very serious. A very large group of Republican voters, numbering in the millions throughout the United States, are similarly angry. They continue to challenge the validity of President Joe Bidens election, wrongly insisting victory was stolen from Trump in November.

In other words, the fight goes on and many solid Republicans are on the proverbial chopping block.

Republicans Will Likely Take Control Of The Senate By 2024

How the GOP can win the house in 2022

The usual midterm House losses by the White House party dont always extend to the Senate because only a third of that chamber is up for election every two years and the landscape sometimes strongly favors the presidential party . But there a still generally an out-party wave that can matter, which is why Republicans may have a better than average chance of winning in at least some of the many battleground states that will hold Senate elections next year . If they win four of the six youll probably be looking at a Republican Senate.

But its the 2024 Senate landscape that looks really promising for the GOP. Democrats will be defending 23 seats and Republicans just 10. Three Democratic seats, and all the Republican seats, are in states Trump carried twice. Four other Democratic seats are in states Trump won once. It should be a banner year for Senate Republicans.

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Reality Check #: The Electoral College And The Senate Are Profoundly Undemocraticand Were Stuck With Them

Because the Constitution set up a state-by-state system for picking presidents, the massive Democratic majorities we now see in California and New York often mislead us about the partys national electoral prospects. In 2016, Hillary Clintons 3-million-vote plurality came entirely from California. In 2020, Bidens 7-million-vote edge came entirely from California and New York. These are largely what election experts call wasted votesDemocratic votes that dont, ultimately, help the Democrat to win. That imbalance explains why Trump won the Electoral College in 2016 and came within a handful of votes in three states from doing the same last November, despite his decisive popular-vote losses.

The response from aggrieved Democrats? Abolish the Electoral College! In practice, theyd need to get two-thirds of the House and Senate, and three-fourths of the state legislatures, to ditch the process that gives Republicans their only plausible chance these days to win the White House. Shortly after the 2016 election, Gallup found that Republican support for abolishing the electoral college had dropped to 19 percent. The National Popular Vote Interstate Compact, a state-by-state scheme to effectively abolish the Electoral College without changing the Constitution, hasnt seen support from a single red or purple state.

Why Republicans Are Likely To Win The 2022 Mid

The public opinion in the United States may indeed be generally opposed to the Republican Party coming to power in the 2022 mid-term election, yet we should not close our eyes to the fact that the GOP is still well-positioned to take back the House and change the balance of power in its favor.

Taking a glance at what happened during recent months, it seems highly probable that the Republican party may have little to no chance to win the 2022 mid-term election. The first and the most noticeable incident that helps this idea prevail is that it was a Republican president who instead of leading the country towards peace in a time of crisis back in January, actually added fuel to the huge fire of division and riot in the U.S. and encouraged his extremist supporters to attack the Capitol Building, creating a national embarrassment that can hardly be erased from peoples memory.

To compound the puzzle, while no one can deny the destructive role the former president Donald Trump had in plotting for and leading the , in the battle of Trump against the truth, the members of the Republican party chose to opt for supporting the former at the cost of sacrificing the latter; It was on this Wednesday that Republican leaders in Congress expressed their opposition to a proposed bipartisan commission designed and created for investigating the Capitol riot that was carried out by Trumps supporters.

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The Plausible Solution: Just Win More

Whether the public sees Democratic demands for these structural changes as overdue or overreaching, the key point is that they are currently exercises in futility. The only plausible road to winning their major policy goals is to win by winning. This means politics, not re-engineering. They need to find ways to take down their opponents, and then be smarter about using that power while they have it.

They certainly have issues to campaign on. In the few weeks, we have learned that some of Americas wealthiest people have paid only minimal or no federal income tax at all. Even as the Wall Street Journal editorial writers were responding to a Code Red emergency , the jaw-dropping nature of the reportfollowed by a New York Times piece about the impotence of the IRS to deal with the tax evasions of private equity royaltyconfirmed the folk wisdom of countless bars, diners, and union halls: the wealthy get away with murder.

Of course this is a whole lot easier said than done. A political climate where inflation, crime and immigration are dominant issues has the potential to override good economic news. And 2020 already showed what can happen when a relative handful of voices calling for defunding the police can drown out the broader usage of economic fairness.

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For The People Act Matters

Gerrymandering, under state laws, can be done by the party in power. That means the GOP has a significant advantage as they control the legislature in most states. In some states, redistricting is done by an independent commission, but that’s a rarity. According to Ballotpedia, the GOP has a trifecta in 23 states, compared to the 15 by Democrats.

In a bid to break their dominance over redistricting, the Democrats have introduced HR 1 or the For The People Act. Amongst other things, the bill bans partisan gerrymandering and state-level voting restrictions, which would make it harder for the GOP to limit voting rights. So naturally, the party filibustered the bill in the Senate. TargetSmart CEO Tom Bonier told Mother Jones, “Absent the passage of HR1, the GOP is poised to gerrymander their way to a House majority.”;

If HR 1 is passed, it would abolish partisan gerrymandering by state governments in favor of independent commissions. It also invalidates existing maps that have the intent or effect of unduly favoring or disfavoring one political party over another. This is an issue that has to be fixed in Congress because as the Supreme Court ruled in 2019, federal courts cannot review partisan gerrymandering. There is however some hope for Democrats. A stripped-down version of HR1 has been proposed by Sen Joe Manchin. It does get rid of some of the more controversial measures but keeps in the ban on partisan gerrymandering.;

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Republicans Can Win The Next Elections Through Gerrymandering Alone

Even if voting patterns remain the same, Republicans could still win more seats in Congress through redistricting

In Washington, the real insiders know that the true outrages are whats perfectly legal and that its simply a gaffe when someone accidentally blurts out something honest.

And so it barely made a ripple last week when a Texas congressman said aloud whats supposed to be kept to a backroom whisper: Republicans intend to retake the US House of Representatives in 2022 through gerrymandering.

We have redistricting coming up and the Republicans control most of that process in most of the states around the country, Representative Ronny Jackson told a conference of religious conservatives. That alone should get us the majority back.

Hes right. Republicans wont have to win more votes next year to claim the US House.

In fact, everyone could vote the exact same way for Congress next year as they did in 2020 when Democratic candidates nationwide won more than 4.7m votes than Republicans and narrowly held the chamber but under the new maps that will be in place, the Republican party would take control.

If Republicans aggressively maximize every advantage and crash through any of the usual guardrails and they have given every indication that they will theres little Democrats can do. And after a 2019 US supreme court decision declared partisan gerrymandering a non-justiciable political issue, the federal courts will be powerless as well.

How The Republicans Can Win The White House In 2016

The Republican Party finds itself in an odd place heading into the 2016 presidential election. Theyve made tremendous gains at the state level under President Obama, hold a near-unbreakable majority in the House, and now control the Senate as well.

But theyve come up short by a significant margin in the last two presidential elections, where turnout is higher and the electorate is more diverse, and have plenty going against them in the next one.

Presidential elections are unpredictable and it often appears that one party can’t lose until it does. Democrats bounced back from three demoralizing blowout losses to win in 1992 against an incumbent, President George H.W. Bush, who seemed unbeatable earlier in his presidency. Republicans could do the same in 2016.

So what does the GOP have to do to finally crack the White House? These are some broad theories on how they win:

Cut Into the Democratic Base

The guiding principle behind a number of Republican candidates is that the party can only win when it reverses its losing margins with Democratic-leaning groups. That means winning converts among the most important planks of President Obamas winning coalition young voters, minorities, and single women.

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[archivesdiveronaevents]

DATE: January 9, 2017 LOCATION: The Colosseum TIME: 4:30 PM

     The sun has sunk a bit lower now, drawn to the horizon as all lovers are. It will embrace its darling later, surely, but there’s work to do—worship to oversee, paths to light. For now, the west side of the Colosseum will do; for now, the better half of the arena is still bathed in the warmth of anticipation, and for good reason: the moment they’ve all been waiting for—some for years, some for mere minutes—has arrived at last.

     They come in streams, not waves, the witnesses of a miracle yet to occur; nothing builds up and breaks down individualism quite like faith, you know. If they wanted to carve out the stone of the Colosseum and make it the eighth wonder of the world, they could. But the people of Verona have always been gluttons for a show, and the beauty of something so subtle would surely be lost on them—an insult, even.

     There are already seven wonders, after all. If you want to be remembered, you’ve got to be the first or the only; the stuff of legends is not to never die, but to never lose. Nine horses in the field will know nothing but the smothering comfort of mediocrity; the other faces an even worse fate: the agony of having immortality in one’s grasp and letting it slip.

     But it’s the spectators that stand to lose the most, for a victory in the hands of another is scarcely a victory at all.

     They line up one by one, beasts stepping obediently into metal cages simply for the purpose of escaping them, and the world seems to fall silent. A gentleman could drop his pencil and demand the ear of every soul in attendance, if only they were able to draw their eyes away from the gates long enough. But he doesn’t, and if he does, no one notices, for things like these—coronations of lesser kings, but coronations just the same—demand utter and complete reverence.

     “And… they’re off and racing!”

     They surge forward as one, tails streaming and eyes wide, and the stadium erupts once more into a glorious cacophony of the shouts of the crowd, the blaring of trumpets, and the beating of drums. It’s awfully humbling to think that the fate of each soul in attendance is somehow tied to a race run and won in a mere few blinks of the eye—the time it takes the pack to round the arena three times—and for that reason, few stop to savor the moment, to recognize their own insignificance. For a few minutes, the riders and their jockeys are the sun around which Verona orbits.

     And what a glorious few minutes they are.

     The Capulet horse rushes around the first turn before the others, looking for all the world like a firebird in flight. The Montagues in the crowd shake their heads in disgust, avert their eyes; some even retreat to the outer edges of the stadium, hellbent on watching a horse they support take the crown or not watching at all. Waves of regret lap at the feet of more superstitious gamblers who condemned the chrome horse as little more than trouble, for the markings on his feet are scarcely visible in the way he moves—quickly, with the sort of conviction only possessed by a creature giving ruthless chase. He’ll show, certainly, if he can hold the dark bay off, netting a silver medal to match the silks of his jockey, but the horse in third is as ravenous as his rider, and the distance between them shrinks with every stride they take.

     They hurtle around the second turn of the final lap, close enough for those brave enough to stand at the barrier to jump back for fear of being struck, and the dark bay closes in on the blazing sorrel.

     “Brielle King moving into first as they turn for home!”

     A king’s steed falls to a ruffian’s pony, and the Colosseum seems to gape at such blatant revolution.

     “Ladies and gentlemen, what you’re about to see is history in the making!” The announcer is nearly giddy now, the change in his tone and the sight before them rousing nearly every person in the arena to their feet.

     History in the making.

     The dark bay thunders down the home stretch, relentless even in victory. It’s the only way to win; anything short would be but a lucky coincidence. He’s within a few lengths of the line now, and the crowd is beside itself, damn near in hysterics—a newcomer unseating a dynasty? Impossible. Incredible. Everything a poor man dreams of and everything a rich man fears.

     History in the making.

     And then the bomb goes off.

(TW: violence, gore, body horror, death, severe emotional distress)

Please note: All Montagues were made aware of the day’s events prior to their arrival at the Colosseum. Precautions of varying degrees have been taken on their parts.

4:35 - Blown skyward by the blast, Brielle falls from her horse and finds herself half-deaf and disoriented in the path of nine fright-crazed horses, each in its own state of disarray. Few notice her fall from grace, too busy fearing for their own lives to fear for hers, but those that do shout at her to stay where she is. Hugo elects to take matters into his own hands.

4:35 - Celeste, having tried and failed to lure the Capulet heiress away from the track by any other means, all but drags her out of range in what seems to be the nick of time. She and Juliana run for the nearest exit. The Capulet wants to know why, but there’ll be time for questions later.

4:35 - Santino, seated next to Maeve by chance or perhaps the pull of would-be friends, reacts as if on instinct and shields her from the blast. They’re relieved to find they’ve both survived what seems to be the worst of it, but their concerns clearly lie with others. They split up.

4:36 - Orion and Orpheus manage to locate each other in the smoke (there’s nothing quite as familiar as the voice of the man you’ve tried so often to spite) and, after a minute or two of arguing, make their way toward the exit, knives drawn. Courtesy demands that they use them against those responsible for the destruction, but the unspoken rivalry between them is quite the tease.

4:36 - In a rush to find Maeve and Theodora in the chaos, Catherine runs directly into Castora, knocking the two of them over the backs of nearby seats and leaving them both with more wounds than they started with. She recognizes the Aguilar woman’s voice when the Montague woman snarls a warning and bites out her own, accusing the other woman of being involved in the bombing. Castora makes a snide remark about Maeve, and the Daly woman throws the first punch.

4:37 - Mallory, having escaped the wrath of the explosion and seen to it that their sibling (well, one of them) has, as well, cants their head at Cinead and insists that they’d known all along that something interesting would happen at the Palio. Nevertheless, Hea is missing in action, so they agree on a place to meet up and part ways to find them.

4:37 - Bellamy, who was struck and wounded by shrapnel as he ran to save a child who’d wandered dangerously close to the blast, nearly slams into Maeve. She insists on finding him help and asks if he’s seen a certain few Montagues, but unsure of her identity and her intentions, he doesn’t tell her that he already knows that they’re alright (or that they should be). He spots Hugo carrying a battered Brielle through the smoke and apologizes to Maeve, saying he has to go. He joins Hugo in helping Brielle and suggests that they find Roman.

4:37 - Roman catches sight of a bloodied Easton stumbling out of the smoke-choked arena and approaches him. He inquires about Celeste, knowing he’s been put in charge of her keeping in the past, and entreats him to simply let her slip away in the pandemonium, but the Craven man merely laughs. When he swings, Valentina rushes in to attack him from behind. The three of them fight for a few minutes, but Valentina urges Roman to break away to go to safety, to which he reluctantly acquiesces, leaving the two to their quarrel.

4:38 - The sound of a child’s screams strike a chord in Vivianne, and she follows his cries until she happens upon a young boy trapped under a pile of rubble—and none other than Giya crouched before him. She stands back, conflicted, before moving to join her, equal parts determined to get the child out and determined to make the Godrej woman pay for being involved in putting him there.

4:39 - Hector, while waiting for Hiran to emerge from the stadium, sees Orion leaving mostly intact—ashen suit and handsome face cut—and moves to follow him, to accost him for telling Hiran what happened between them, but Lucrecia swarms out of what seems to him to be nowhere, claws unsheathed and hackles raised. Nothing angers a dangerous woman more than being caught unawares; she’d like to make his skin match her lipstick—red.

4:39 - Hiran slips past beneath Hector’s nose and taps Orion on the shoulder, seizing the opportunity to make him rue the day he ever laid a finger on Sawiris. It hardly matters that it was just as much Hector’s fault as Orion’s or that he’s had a little too much to drink; he grabs the older man by the lapels and shoves him against the nearest stable wall.

4:40 - Celeste and Juliana run clear of the Colosseum, eyes reddened by the smoke and ash clinging to their hair, but although they escaped the worst of it together, they won’t be leaving together. Priam swoops in to take the Capulet heiress by the arm and Everett steps forward to grab Celeste, believing she’s made yet another escape attempt. He pulls her away, but not before Juliana makes it known that the Montague woman was the one to keep her safe from the blast.

4:41 - Pandora advances upon Priam and Juliana with the vengeance of an animal given just enough time to lick its wounds and acquire a taste for blood. Marcelo thinks to join her in trying to incapacitate the emissary and make off with Cosimo’s daughter, but they spot Everett escorting Celeste out, and seeing the opportunity they’d all hoped would present itself, they hail the already-injured captain with more blows.

4:42 - Priam takes a hard hit to the head and is brought to his knees, but Theodora steps in to assail Pandora, giving Juliana the chance to escape—but foolishly, she stays to help the Taravella man to his feet and away from the wreckage. Theodora and Pandora are evenly matched in both wit and strength, and their fight proves incredibly tiresome for both. Both Montague and Capulet eventually pull away bloody and with bruises blooming under their skin.

4:42 - Odessa, who was able to slip away from the race several minutes before the explosion, notices that Giya is absent from the ranks of those who made it out safely and pushes against the throng of people leaving the stadium to look for her in the smoke. A red-faced Rafaella slams into her in the confusion and latches onto her out of instinct to keep the two of them from falling, but once she realizes who she’s grabbed, she recoils, disgust evident on her features. The Capulet adviser lunges for the emissary, fist swinging at the other woman’s jaw, and for the time it takes them to declare a victor, Giya is forgotten.

4:43 - Castora, nursing wounds from her earlier scuffle with the Daly girl, and Ramona, itching for Orion to have escaped the bombing so she can take care of him herself, happen upon a clearly furious Lucrecia and a clearly struggling Hector. The two girls draw the Falco woman’s attention away from her opponent by taunting her, giving Hector enough time to slip away and lick his wounds. The two Montagues manage to incapacitate her and leave her behind one of the betting booths to be found by one of her own.

4:43 - Matthias sifts through the crowd of crazed race-goers that push out of the Colosseum and into the open, keen gaze searching for the target he’s been ordered to trail and—if possible—take. He’s distracted by the sight of Delilah stumbling past, pretty little outfit stained red. Careful to make sure none of his own are watching, he pulls her into a bathroom to tend to her wounds. She’s grateful, but she leaves not long after, terrified of being discovered by the wrong pair of eyes.

4:44 - Bellamy spots Roman near a ticket booth, and he and Hugo guide Brielle, who has rather loudly objected to being carried, over to him. After a brief assessment of her multiple injuries, Brielle reluctantly consents to being brought to the hospital, and Bellamy offers to take her, as he’s in need of examination as well. Brielle and Bellamy leave the Colosseum through a staff corridor and depart for the hospital. Hugo hangs back to speak to Roman, but the coast is far from clear. Roman sets off to find Alexander, and Hugo hangs back to survey the perimeter, guilt preventing him from fleeing the scene.

4:44 - Tiberius happens upon a battered Valentina, who looks a little worse for wear after her fight with Easton. He takes advantage of her momentary weakness and rushes in, blade drawn. He manages to back her against a wall after a brief skirmish, knife to her throat, but a pair of arms slip around his neck and tighten before he has the chance to do much damage—Santino. The Gallo man pulls the Capulet off of his sister and, in the hopes of avoiding a real fight, presses the barrel of his handgun to his back. The message is clear.

4:45 - Marcelo engages Everett in a fist fight and manages to disarm him, paving the way for Celeste to run away, but the odds of her succeeding are too slim for comfort and she’s better off staying where she is, so she refuses. Ignoring the look of confusion on their face when she all but pries them away from the Capulet captain, she quietly insists that they stand down and direct their efforts toward something more feasible. It’s not the first time she’s talked them down from a fight, and reluctantly, they hurl one more threat Everett’s way before retreating.

4:45 - Odessa watches as a certain Easton Craven skirts around his brother without bothering to back him against the Montague captain, and unable to resist the temptation of getting even somehow, she taunts him from afar, inadvertently beckoning him closer. She’s had her fill of fights in the aftermath of a clear victory by her people, but whether Easton is ready to hang his head in defeat is yet to be determined.

4:46 - Alexander watches the chaos unfold as Nero watched Rome burn, eyes scanning the crowd for anything or anyone of interest. Save for two soldiers of his caught in the blast zone by mistake, everything had gone according to plan—that is, as well as a bombing could go. He’s just about to dive into the fray to deal with a Capulet heckling one of his captains when none other than Rafaella Capulet appears, blood matting her curls and all traces of teasing gone. How dare he? He could ask her the same thing.

4:46 - Hea watches Halcyon as she pauses in an alcove to catch her breath, their interest sparked by the woman’s preoccupation with her own wellbeing while others seem intent only on bringing about others’ ruin. They approach her and inquire about her injuries but don’t readily offer any aid, eyes scanning the crowd for their siblings. Unlike mere men, gods don’t lose their heads when things don’t go as anticipated.

4:47 - While surveying the area for Theodora, Orpheus comes across Ramona, who’s hungry for more confrontation. Despite his best (read: meager) efforts to entertain her, the Capulet soldier can’t bring himself to give her the satisfaction of engaging, and perhaps that angers her more than any blow ever could.

4:47 - Halcyon rejoins the fray with renewed determination, catching sight of Vivianne’s dark hair as she leaves the smoke-filled arena with—Giya Godrej? The underboss slips away before she can ask for further orders, and since she’s in no state to exact any useless revenge, she settles for brushing past the older woman with a dignified sort of force, throwing barbed words over her shoulder.

4:48 - Mallory corners Hugo to prod him for information—or at the very least, amusement—and finds little to their liking. They’d suspected a holy man would be a little less boring under pressure, but they stick around perhaps a little longer than the priest would like, barring him from being of much use to his mob for several precious minutes. What’s a holy man like him doing with them, anyway, bringing about such destruction? They want to know all of this and more.

4:48 - Clark emerges from the smoke-choked arena to find his nephew dutifully searching for his mother. After a brief (and mistrustful) exchange, Hiran and Clark look for and locate Giya and leave the Colosseum, a family more or less in tact.

4:48 - Mikael lurks in the shadows of the mostly-evacuated Colosseum, intent on searching the perimeter for his notably absent wife before he assumes that she must’ve wasted no time in leaving the scene. He finds her where Castora and Ramona left her and stoops down to try to rouse her, enraged at the nerve of whoever has done this to her. He’s inclined to suspect the man who attacked him at the Masquerade—Matthias—and Cinead appears seemingly out of thin air to inform him (incorrectly) that it was, as if the Falco man had spoken his thoughts aloud. Whether it was their intention or not, the violence Warren wishes to inflict on Mikael is no longer one-sided.

5:00 - Matthias arrives at the rendezvous point with his hands markedly clean, prompting a questioning look from Alexander. He has failed in his mission, and the excuse he gives is poor at best. Rallis is angry, but the adviser has far more important things to tend to in the wake of the bombing; Matthias will be dealt with later.

     Civilians and mob members alike flee the Colosseum, scattering like ashes on the wind. The screams have long since died down, replaced by the eerie wailing of sirens in the distance, but pockets of people remain, their cries—both for themselves and those lost—ringing out like the types of prayers uttered not for a response, but due to the lack of one. Later that evening, journalists and crime scene investigators alike would tally the death toll at nine, tentatively. A count of the wounded will be much more complex, much like the motives behind the act. They’ll call it an act of terrorism, the work of radicals far-removed from the war raging within the city. They couldn’t be more wrong, but no one stands to correct them.

     Some things are best left to the imagination; the only thing that would kick up more hysteria than the threat of a distant organization would be the threat of two empires waging war on the doorsteps of innocents.

     Somewhere in a stable miles away from the crime scene, the Montague stud stands in his stall, dark coat shining beneath the lamp burning above him. He’s a vision, despite the fact that no one is there to see him, and the black flag he carried has been replaced by one of striking gold. It hangs on the door for all to see, a message in disguise if there ever was one.

     Our mourning hour has passed. The stage is now yours.

OVERVIEW: It’s safe to say this year’s Palio was a great deal more eventful than the last, but then again, things have certainly changed in Verona, haven’t they? You are free to play out these interactions in a THREAD or in a CHATROOM. We just ask that, should you play out encounters in a chatroom, you post everything on the dash so that we might follow along. As we have said before, these events have no expiration date and you may continue with threads from the previous event.

TIMELINE: You may now play out the AFTERMATH OF THE PALIO DI VERONA. Interactions will take place from JANUARY 9th to JANUARY 23rd. Everyone will be recovering from the event in their own way and the specified characters will be expected to carry their injuries. Even characters who were not written to be injured in the interactions will likely have taken some damage; a bombing is pretty wide-spread, after all. All of the deceased are NPCs, six of which were Capulets. Several playable characters have the potential to be in critical condition, but the extent of their injuries has ultimately been left up to each player. (If you’re willing to have your character seriously injured or even killed in the future, please let us know.)

HACK: If you are searching for interactions your character is involved in, hit ctrl+f and a small box should pop up in the corner of your screen. Type in your character’s name, hit enter, and you should be able to find your character’s name in their interactions!

We hope you’ve all enjoyed our second DiVerona event!