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notoriousjae · 4 years

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Love is a Little Box (For Home to Lay Inside) || Edeleth Fanfic (1/?)

Chapter Title: A Heart

Pairing: Byleth Eisner (F)/ Edelgard von Hresvelg

Rating: M

Chapter Description:

She’s read about Happiness: it’s the thing people lose in war; the emotion that sparks up the edges of their lips into a smile, or fills them with contentment when faced with something they’ve done that’s good ; it’s the emotion that everyone fights for and searches for as desperately as love, just as elusive and fickle, or so it seems in books and operas and plays.

Chapter 1 (Current) | AO3 | Below:

It's a peaceful day in Garreg Mach.

The sun catches along the lightly swelling waves of a familiar pond, wrinkles in blue caused by the light winds dancing Sothis’ fingertips along its surface. It’s hard to know whether Sothis was a Goddess but it’s easy to imagine that contradictory carefully carefree smile full of restraint and curiosity as small hands skimmed along the ripples of the pond in the heart of Garreg Mach, feeling moisture beneath palms--learning what water might feel like, again, for the both of them.

You need to experience things, Sothis would say and Byleth would experience them, because she had never known to experience them, before.

Or maybe Sothis would just...hover behind Byleth’s shoulder as she watched a line bob for an hour before she yawned, disappearing into the cold of a tomb she’s made in a baby’s chest that became the casket nestled in a woman’s.

It’s easy, too, to understand why people think Sothis is everywhere , because Byleth feels her, still. In the air...and the wind...and the water--

They were both familiar with the pond at Garreg Mach and a sense of... something--easy; warm; familiar?--stirs quietly in Byleth’s chest as she watches the pond and thinks of green eyes and hair and soft fingertips before she hears paper rustle a little behind her.

The feeling transforms a little like that tomb had.

“You know, Edelgard,” Byleth hums, chin dipping over her shoulder to watch her--a rare moment where both of them happen to actually be in the same place without a need for something sharp and pointy (or a strategic exit). “Fishing is a tactician’s game.”

Edelgard chuckles quietly to herself but looks up from her book all the same. Edelgard having time to read is probably rarer than them sharing time together, at all, and pulling her from it makes Byleth feel--

Hmm…

Her chin tips up in thought. It makes her... feel …

Edelgard interrupts.

“Is that so?”

Byleth nods, serious, and watches the way red fabric shifts as Edelgard turns to listen to her--to watch her--with the same rapt attention she had as a student, and still keeps to date in the war council.

“They say it’s chess, but that’s not the case.”

“They say that because chess is the tactical routing of an opponent. It’s meant to mimic a battlefield.” The Emperor practically quotes from the tactician’s guide and Byleth watches the breeze skirt over the surface of the water and wonders if Sothis would have fondly chuckled, but the only sound she hears is the water and the idle, far-away chatting of a few soldiers.

How would Edelgard feel, knowing a Goddess was so fond of her?

Byleth shakes her head.

“How many battlefields have you been on, El?”

“Countless.”

“How many battlefields resembled the neatly-drawn lines of a chessboard, where everyone took turns and you could predict your opponent’s attacks with statistics and math?”

“...none.” Edelgard looks pained to admit, begrudging, sighing as she tucks her book at her hip.

“Chess is just…” Byleth’s head tips, “...the memorization of strategies. You’re not creating anything new. When you’re facing someone in chess, you’re...just applying the most appropriate thing you’ve memorized that you can think of for that moment for the situation in front of you and hoping it works.”

“Alright.” And Edelgard stands, then, setting her book upon the bench, armored boots clicking as she walks along the stone towards the pond with that same studious look, hands settling on hips. Maybe one of these days they’ll both be comfortable enough fishing and reading and relaxing to do it without wearing armor. “Then what is fishing ?”

“Fun.” At Byleth’s amused look, Edelgard tutts and steps closer, obviously not having appreciated being baited over to the pier. She likely also wouldn't approve of the pun a little too similar to Alois' (and Petra's, lately) so Byleth keeps it to herself. A little more serious, “Are you sure you want to know? You don’t enjoy fishing. But I'm always okay teaching you.”

“You are currently the most renowned tactician Fódlan has ever seen. It could be argued you are a key point in elevating the war campaign into a rousing victory. If I have a chance to learn how that wonderful mind of yours ticks, I’d be remiss not to take it for the betterment of the Empire.”

“...you could have just said yes.” Brows knit, head barely tipping to the side--no longer teasing--and Byleth cuts off Edelgard’s undoubtedly annoyed reply. She doesn’t have to divinely intimate it’s coming to see it on parted lips, “Not everything needs such a complicated reason, El. If you’d like to learn, let yourself learn. You don’t have to explain your motivations just because people have questioned them in the past. And you don’t always have to do things to make you better , it’s fine to just fish. Although," A thoughtful look, "You’ll probably learn something in the process, anyways.”

Maybe Byleth has spent too much time answering the notes in the confessional.

“You’ll teach me to the end, won’t you?” It’s fonder--softer. Edelgard purses lips before letting the criticism settle, nodding. “Then...yes, Byleth.” Byleth smiles and Edelgard’s shoulders visibly lose the last of their tension when she quietly smiles back. “I...suppose I would like to learn. Especially since it’s something you take such an interest in.”

Edelgard slowly unhooks gauntlets about wrists, setting them to the side, white gloves underneath catching the sunlight like melted snow.

“Fishing,” Byleth nods before reeling in the line. “Is a real battlefield. It’s long moments of waiting followed by sharp, tense moments of excitement. Everything is planning. You find fish like you scout your battlefield--” Once the line is reeled, she hands the pole to Edelgard, whose nose wrinkles only a little at the feeling of her gloves getting wet.

Unlike most nobles, after all, Edelgard doesn’t mind dirt and muck and mud--she had been covered in them for years. Battlefields weren’t glamorous.

(Neither was fishing).

And so Byleth feels her chest swell with... something as the other woman totes up the rod, ready to learn, like she had picked up a lance in lessons. Not proficient with it, but willing .

A challenge.

“So we scout our enemies--what do you see in front of you?” Byleth steps behind her and scans the horizon over her shoulder.

“A pond. I see a ripple in the corner--” A true general starts, “The wind is shifting the current towards me, so I’ll likely have to adjust how I throw my line in order to hit my target.” Her chin tips backwards and looks to her professor, who nods, encouraging. “The light is hitting the right side of the pond, and will fade across it in an hour, creating warmth for the fish, and they’ll likely follow it. They’ll stay below the surface because they’ll want to avoid predators. Or my professor’s infamous rod and net, which catches anything under its shadow.”

“You approach things like a soldier.” There’s a knowing praise on her lips and Edelgard straightens just a little beneath it, “And a leader of troops. You’ve noted some important things, Edelgard, which are good to trap the fish in this moment...but we need to think of the bigger picture. What else do you see? What do you hear? What do you smell?”

Light brows knit as an Emperor once more takes in the blue, glistening pit that’s become her battlefield.

Byleth leans forward to gently wrap fingers around her wrist, guiding the shorter woman backwards so that she can mimic her eyes with her own, listening to the faint gasp of breath that catches on lips before Edelgard seems to focus, determined, now.

A professor settles her chin on Edelgard’s shoulder, far more familiar in touching this student in particular, these days.

Rare, but...familiar.

And the way Edelgard eases just a little into her reminds Byleth that sometimes the rarest of things are welcome.

“What matters to people on a battlefield?”

“The same as what matters to people founding cities: food, shelter, water, and safety.” Edelgard immediately replies.

“So what matters to fish? Your goal is to trap the enemy and reel them in--what might stand in your way of that?”

“I see…” Realization floods that calm voice, Edelgard’s head moving about as she takes in the pond in a seemingly new light. “The monastery. It’s...four o’clock, coming into five, and that path on the left will be tread by the church service let out. They’ll be noisy and their footfalls will probably disturb the pond. The squires like to come here to throw rocks on Wednesdays, and the washing happens in the corner. They’ll be pushed into the middle of the pond, even though the light will be on the West end of it. And I smell…” Edelgard’s nose wrinkles. “...fish soup? How is that relevant? Are they scared of their fate?”

It’s... nice to hear Edelgard joke.

“Rain.” Byleth offers knowingly. “You can taste the condensation on the air, if you can't smell it.”

“How could you smell that over the kitchens?”

Byleth shrugs, stomach idly grumbling because she does smell the kitchens.

“Is this...how you look at everything?” Edelgard is looking over her shoulder, now, close enough that Byleth smells far more of her hair than the rain and it’s a welcome change. She could smell the clouds over the food, but Byleth isn’t sure anything but Edelgard could ever fill her lungs, in this moment. “Is this how you see battlefields?”

“Yes.” Hands curve gently over the rod, raising fingers to paint a grid in the pond where Violet eyes can follow, “It’s real chess. You’re good with strategy when you’re expecting it. You can plan in advance and are great facing adversity on the battlefield as a soldier--you’re always quick to react--but a battlefield is never as clean as chess. We both know that.”

She feels fingers flex beneath her own, gripping the rod not out of being corrected, but vigor.

“I see.” And Edelgard has always been good with critique--with that infinite urge to strive further --and there’s that tightness in Byleth’s chest, again. Warm and soothing, pressing herself against the flat of Edelgard’s back.

She hadn't thought holding someone could be so comfortable.

“You shouldn’t be...picking a strategy to go up against whatever opposing strategy you think you're seeing on the battlefield, hoping the one you picked is better."

“I... should be thinking of how they respond, and naturally taking in the world and their needs. You’re saying I shouldn’t just assume they’ll react tactically--but...naturally and true to themselves?”

“Exactly. Everyone has a primal urge--it’s true there’s...math and statistics, and we can always take two strategies and see which path people will be most likely to take, because the truth is that most people are just as skittish as these fish. If I toss a rock into the pond, they’ll flee to the other side, because we know they’re scared of it--it’s something they’ll avoid. But not everyone is as scared as a fish.”

“Many enemies are...noble. Are fighting because they believe in the opposition of your own wants and desires.” Edelgard quietly agrees and Byleth nods.

“So if you identify your enemy’s needs and desires--what they think is important, whether the rain will make them move, whether the light will keep them warm, whether the noise will scare them--you’ll know which way they’ll go, and you’ll know what they do. And then you go fishing.”

“I see.” Edelgard repeats, quieter, now, watching the pond for a moment before she asks, “Is that why you--” A rare pause and it sounds like she might think over the question before redirecting, or maybe rewording. It’s interesting enough for Byleth to lean back and watch her, fully. “...spared Flayn?” A moment passes before she continues, “We were surrounded by soldiers with the city on fire and I trusted you, I never hesitated to accept your choice in sparing her, but I didn’t understand, then, that it might have been…” She shakes her head, and this is one of those moments where she wonders if there’s a question behind the words. Edelgard is full of layers, she’s found, and while Byleth has learned so many of them, she feels there’s so many more to be found. A woman of secrets, all tucked away in a hidden box Byleth has yet to fully find. “Was it a tactical decision?”

A bare hand comes up to rest on Edelgard’s shoulder in thought, still pressed against her back as she thinks--lets the question settle before nodding.

“Yes. And no. Our enemies aren’t the only fish.” Byleth offers, “Flayn...didn’t have to die. Neither did Seteth. The best battles are the ones where you minimize casualties on both sides,” Her head dips to the side, remembering the heat on her shoulders. Her back. Remembering the way she had barely cupped Edelgard’s palm in curling fingers after the fighting in a rickety war tent on the outskirts of the battle, the puckered flesh of hands beneath gauntlets singed through and burnt along the metal of Aymr in the flames. The healing waves from Byleth’s fingertips had turned them into slivers of scars beneath red grieves--two more to match thousands that litter ivory skin.

She remembers the way Flayn had coughed, the smoke settled in both their lungs, fingers curled and bloodied into the tuft of a Pegasus’ quaking wings, matted with soot and blood. Both of them panting wisps of heat. Weak.

We’re family , she had said once, but looked at Byleth with nothing short of sadness, then. Not betrayal, just...sadness.

Perhaps that’s what family filled in people: hope, sadness, and loss in equal measure. That’s how Byleth remembers Jeralt. It's how she remembers Sitri.

It's how she remembers Rhea.

Byleth mulls over the words--the odd...ache that the memory fills in her chest--the worried gratitude that had settled on Edelgard’s features, after the fight. A look she’d seen several times, over the years, when Byleth had chosen Edelgard and life over a church’s firm thumb.

The Emperor of Fódlan, cloaked in red and black and on her knees in the soot, didn’t want the world to die (despite what some apparently claimed) and the moment Byleth offered someone might be spared, Edelgard always took the chance with equal parts relief and trepidation.

Just because war had been the only way didn't mean death truly was.

This thought, it-- feels--

“They needed an escape route. They needed to know that our battle was righteous, not wicked, I guess. To use...whatever words the Church probably used. If we took them, we took the battle, and we would demoralize the troops. But it isn’t always about killing. If we killed Flayn, Seteth would have been...inconsolable. He would have become a danger to fight, and he was already dangerous--we didn’t need to fight him. Some fires are better to...put out quickly, than let them burn and spread. Some fires are supposed to burn, but...not that one.”

Her brows knit and she’s surprised when Edelgard turns Byleth’s chin towards her own, something unreadable in her eyes.

And Edelgard waits, simply holding her for this brief moment, like she knows there’s more, because there is.

“ And I didn’t want her to die.” Byleth says simply, only to her--only in this safe quiet of a courtyard--and the woman who she intends to spend all days like this with, who nods as fingertips curl beneath Byleth's chin.

“How did you know they wouldn’t retaliate when you let them go? That they wouldn’t go back to Rhea?” Edelgard quietly presses.

“I didn’t, I guess...but I know my fish.” Byleth looks back towards the pond.

“Which is why we won.” Edelgard surmises. “Our initial strategy was outmatched when we arrived. And your responding strategy on the battlefield to split up and focus our forces around the fire--sparing key combatants... that’s what won.” And she sounds almost praising when she says, a little in awe, “You didn’t just choose a strategy or response, you...went fishing.”

“A tactician’s game.” Byleth’s voice skirts along her ear and Edelgard eases backwards against her enough that she can wrap an arm fully around a slim waist, now.

This information seems to cement Edelgard's drive.

“What do we do next?”

“We take all of that into account and cast the line.”

And so Byleth shows her the technical aspects of fishing--of how to throw and cast and reel in, despite the elements of noise and wind and heat. Shows her how to tactically assume where the fish might try to escape upon being caught on a line--how to pull it and unhook it without harming it and kill it the quickest way possible. She tells her about bait, and how to read shadows, and how to choose a fishing spot--

“So you just...stand here and wait for it to bite?”

“Like waiting for a charge on a battlefield. See? The anticipation--” Byleth lightly tickles her stomach and Edelgard chuckles and bats away her hands and Edelgard listens to every word, until she stands on her own and reels in a smacking fish that flops against her knee with no guidance, a few hours later.

Ever the quick study.

The warmth spreads through a chest still so unaccustomed to it and settles in her lungs and fills her so deeply that Byleth has to pull away to look at the happiness on Edelgard’s face.

Proud. Edelgard looks proud.

This feeling is...startling.

“I’ve forgotten how marvelous you were at teaching, Professor. Unorthodox, as always, but still so phenomenally proficient.” Edelgard hums , careful to unhook the fish exactly as shown, shaking away water and the scent from her fingertips before slipping back on gloves. And then turns her attention up to said professor. “You look yalms away.” It’s softer and Byleth slowly looks up from fingertips to familiar eyes, that warmth pressing against her chest...consuming. Distracting.

Her face contorts in confusion and she shakes her head.

Does she look far away?

“...I’m sorry--”

“Are you alright?” It’s even gentler, barely heard over the wind and the soft sound of the rain starting to gently patter about their feet and the fish in its bucket full of water in deep plops, and the pond where the fish scatter from its cold intrusion. Edelgard steps closer and Byleth nods.

“I’m...fine.”

“What is it?” It’s an invitation and Byleth must visibly hesitate because Edelgard steps closer, still, careful--

“I…” A huff of breath through lips, feeling-- feeling -- “I just... felt something, is all.”

“What do you mean?” Edelgard is rare with her affection on the grounds but fingertips raise up to gently brush ragged bangs from Byleth’s eyes. This is the closest she’s felt all month, even a moment ago in her arms, and an ache churns in Byleth’s stomach. It’s a testament to how much a student changed over the years, because she asks instead of assuming she knows the best recourse: “Are you in any pain? Do you want me to call for Manue--”

“No. No, it’s nothing like that. I felt--” Brows still knit and, words failing her, Byleth gently takes Edelgard’s hand and lowers it to her heart, where its weak thud aches (and aches) up towards the warmth of familiarity. Presses a palm of white against the black-cloaked, hidden place that used to be so still. It stirs like coal simmering beneath ashes, vibrating fingertips and her chest and her throat. It beats so steadily that Byleth might think it would scare those fish away. “I felt something. New.”

“Oh.” The realization settles deep in widening violet.

“Maybe not new , just...different. It all feels…”

Different.

Edelgard’s fingers splay over heart and Byleth’s breath catches, looking away.

“Do you know what it was?”

“No. It felt...like--” A tongue darts over lips before she tries-- “I’m still--” It feels so odd to say--to admit --out loud.

“You can tell me.” El promises, leaning closer so that it’s just them standing in the soft, gentle rain, neither of them minding. For the moment, at least, their voices barely heard over the sky’s gentle cry. Byleth hesitates. “My teacher…” El whispers in her ear, “They’re our problems, remember? You’ve taught me so much, the least I can do is help you untangle this.”

“I’m…” Byleth eases tense muscles beneath Edelgard’s fingertips, wordlessly lifting up her cloak to shield them from the rain, “I’m still learning what all of them mean. It’s like...waking up and trying to remember a dream. I’ve...I think I’ve felt these things before. I’ve just never felt them so...” Her head tilts to the side, “... strongly.”

“And what do you feel now?”

It’s started to rain a bit more, gentle, graceful drops. The kind that makes the grass smell like dew and hides the scent of enemies in a battlefield, even if it helps make their tracks clearer due to the mud their boots will sink into after it's settled, trapped.

The kind that makes Edelgard’s hair stick to her chin, if they’re out in it long enough, framing the curving edges of her smile on the unlikely occasion it’s only them en route to a mission or a skirmish or a battlefield.

Or fishing by a pond in Garreg Mach.

Byleth pulls up her cloak enough to block out the rain from Edelgard's eyes.

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.” Edelgard pulls enough away to see her in the shadows of the black cloak surrounding them, looking thoughtful and determined for a moment before she tries, “Then what...did it feel like ? What were you thinking? What did you want, in the moment?”

“I don’t know.” Byleth admits, trying to sort it through, calm and methodical, “...it was... good .” A little more certain, mulling it over before she repeats, firmer: “It was good.”

“Good.” El sounds relieved in a way likely only Byleth and Hubert would be able to hear of it in her voice.

“Warm. I was watching you fish and I was thinking of how much you’ve grown as a person, and into who I knew you could be, and how...” Her head tips upwards, thinking of the way Edelgard had looked at her own catch, realizing: “...proud of you I am.”

El blinks, rain tickling down cheeks to Byleth’s chin before she quietly...smiles. Beautiful. And the warmth is there but different , again. Spreading. Aching .

“You felt proud of me?”

“I...yes. I feel ,” Byleth settles on, a little more sure--a little more confident and sturdy--meeting Edelgard’s eyes with her second resolute nod, “ Proud of you.”

Byleth has read about pride. It’s the emotion that precedes arrogance in novels--the emotion that can heat someone’s palms to war; It’s the emotion that swells up in a lover’s chest when they watch the eye of their heart succeed, or a mother when their child writes a song and defies them to sing it to a nation; it’s many people’s downfall. Heroes. Villains. People.

It’s Byleth’s success, as a teacher. And...the woman who feels for Edelgard as she does.

“Byleth…” El softens and beneath the thin weight of Byleth’s coat, which must seem like safety enough from prying eyes and the scattered fish, she leans up to kiss her cheek, near the edge of lips, and the breath rattles in an Emperor’s lungs before it pushes out between them, steady and warm. Her voice rumbles like quiet thunder in the distance, but Byleth's never seemed safer beneath it, “Who I am, today, is because of you, I think you have reason to be proud.”

“You’re giving me too much credit.” Byleth murmurs, dismissing, and Edelgard kisses her again, near the other edge of barely curved lips, the sound of a fish flopping in the bucket next to them missed beneath the rain.

“My love,” Edelgard doesn’t laugh, but she does smile in her wry amusement, and that warmth burns and burns and burns in Byleth’s cool chest, “You don’t give yourself enough.”

Pride

Byleth knows this word, but didn’t understand its meaning.

Not until Edelgard taught her.

“Next time you feel something new, you should tell me,” El offers, “We can sort it through, together. However confusing it might be, certainly it’s no rival for our combined wits.” Byleth thinks on it for a long moment before she nods and looks down towards Edelgard's first catch. “For now...why don't we cook tonight's dinner?"

The cloak lowers as Byleth pauses, an almost shy smile tucking up the edges of lips before it smooths into something calm, "Sure. We'll cook it together."

There's many things Edelgard rouses pride in her Professors' chest. Her passion and compassion--her intellect and deduction--her triumphs and the way she's learned humbled, and with dedication, from her failures--her fishing and, perhaps, most of all...her smile.

Edelgard seems determined to add her cooking to that list and while Byleth has a staunch feeling that today will not be that day, she finds herself...excited(? Hopeful? Pleased?) at all the days they can spend finding out.

(Even if she always makes sure the Head Cook sets aside a separate meal for them, just in case).

Byleth leans over to pick up a small little wooden box off the bench and later that evening, slides Edelgard's first hook inside.

----

In truth to their vows to each other in the Goddess Tower, they become a unified front. Although Byleth is unsurprised by the fact that this means not much changes in their lives (outside of winning a war) because they were a unified front, before.

In strategy, battle, and tactics--in facing their enemies and their friends--but maybe... some things are different.

Like the nearly shy looks Edelgard sends Byleth’s way when no one is looking--or their moments, after the long days have set to night and the war counsel empties to two, that they sit and discuss what future might await them on the horizon, just out of reach but growing closer by the day.

‘I’ve always wanted to go to Albinea’ , El’s wistful hum is lost in the quiet of the room, echoing around them as she leans up against the table they once had lessons on. Byleth’s arms cross as she leans next to her, their hips resting comfortably side-by-side as they have for the past two and a half years.

Byleth wouldn’t be surprised if El insisted the past eight years.

Time has passed, since the war, but she’s learned it doesn’t stop. Not anymore. Then again, it never stopped for Byleth--it only ever folded backwards in on itself like a rumpled shirt or sifted through her fingertips like sand she’d intended to throw into the eyes of an attacker, but lost to the ground, instead.

‘Me too.’ Byleth’s hand idly scratches nails along her chest and she lets out a small breath when she feels Edelgard’s fingers barely skim along the inside of her wrist, both of them hovering over her heart. ‘Maybe we can go there, when this is all over with.’

‘Let’s.’ And El smiles and that feeling... blooms and Byleth’s hand stills along her heart and Edelgard stills along with it. A curious look must have settled on Byleth’s face, because the next thing she knows--

‘...perhaps you’re feeling...hopeful.’ Edelgard boldly offers, shifting a little closer and Byleth’s eyes flick down to her lips.

‘Is that what I feel?’

‘That’s up to you to say.’

‘Hopeful.’ She tastes before the summoning bell rings above them and they pull away.

Edelgard’s fingers linger in her own before they untwine, walking down the hall hip-by-hip towards the tower, their knuckles brushing with each step.

The moments are still rare, but they seek them out, now, the light from the sky catching along Edelgard’s ring before a glove is slid over fingertips.

Hope.

(Maybe not all futures must wait until after the shadows are scattered by light).

And hip-by-hip is how they tackle a professor’s removed, textbook examination of her own heart with Edelgard’s life experience (what she has of it), slowly sorting out the feelings that have begun to stir in Byleth’s chest.

They’ve both been removed from emotions for so long, maybe it’s nice for Edelgard to find them, too.

What is this feeling? Byleth learns to murmur in the air by Edelgard’s ear, and they’ll arrive at a conclusion, together.

‘Contentment’ in the early morning as Byleth sets tea down on the soft, rustling white cloth in the gardens, watching the steam curve around Edelgard’s smile like hair caught around her cheek in the rain, their wrists creeping towards each other beneath the chipped porcelain that’s survived far more than a war--something soft and settling like fresh linens on a bed Byleth is still getting used to sleeping on;

‘Disappointment’ in the moments their fingers touch and are pulled away by duty, the sound of their quiet laughter lingering throughout the stone halls similar to how the cathedral used to catch Dorothea’s voice as it rang throughout--aching and quiet as Byleth watches Edelgard’s smile fade into something serious and resolute;

‘ Amusement ’ Edelgard wryly comments as Lindhardt successfully spars Caspar by continuously ruffling his hair with a sleepy grin and a yawning, batting hand--fluttering like a bird’s wings against her ribcage, bouncing about bars waiting to break free;

‘ Sadness ?’ She asks Edelgard in a guess when the Emperor finds her in the courtyard overlooking a great chasm, her father’s and mother’s gravestones stalwart bastions against its empty void, as if they’re holding Garreg Mach’s penetrable walls of stone and lost faith from falling into the endless dark gravel below--muted and constant, a dull ache. It lessens, somehow, when Edelgard’s rare open touch skirts along her hip and rests along her stomach, guiding Byleth backwards against her chest.

Soon, Byleth has experience to back the names of emotions she’s read about and dully felt and Edelgard, ever one to rise to a challenge, has stepped behind her professor without a second thought, trying to answer the questions of a quiz before her.

“Joy?” Edelgard tries as Byleth’s fingertips run along the edge of a flower, blue hair spilling over shoulders and head tilted to the side in thought as she calmly regards El’s determination.

Thinks it through. No. It doesn’t sound right.

“I don’t think so.” She shakes her head, fingers curving beneath the edge of a flower, not wishing to disturb the small bird fluttering around the surface, lips barely pursing in thought.

She’s been in the Greenhouse for an hour, or so, watching this small little blue bird bat from leaf to leaf of a plant she’s been growing, fingers scratching thoughtlessly at her heart.

Byleth hadn’t asked what the emotion was, but Edelgard took it upon herself to find out, regardless.

“Contentment.” Edelgard tries again, brows furrowed in deep thought, herself, the leader of a ruthless strike force and a now-impervious Empire. It’s a tactical strategy--Edelgard had initially tried to talk it through with Byleth to see what she was feeling, what it reminded her of--

‘It’s a bird. I just see a bird , Edelgard.’

‘That’s not exactly helpful, Professor.’

--before talking through some of the more base aspects of what was stirring in Byleth’s chest.

‘ Well...is it positive?’

‘It’s...good, I think.’

When nothing else followed, Edelgard had sighed.

And then did what any leader might do: try to find a solution regardless of adequate facts, because it simply had to be done.

Peaceful? No. Nostalgic? No. Analytical? No. Joy? No --

And finally, contentment , which like the ones before it, is met with a shake of the head.

Edelgard frowns, the crease of it barely indenting between brows as she lays a hand against Byleth’s back, easing forward to look at the bird, herself.

At a loss and not admitting it, probably. Now that makes Byleth feel amused . That fluttery little bird in her chest, far warmer than it had been watching Caspar and Linhardt.

Most things are far warmer when she’s with Edelgard.

A cat by the doorway meows with what might be agreement and fingertips thoughtlessly curl around the stone of the planter’s box.

El hesitates before almost guiltily suggesting: “...hungry?”

“Hunger isn’t an emotion.” Byleth pauses, chin tipping up to look for Edelgard’s counsel, “It’s a need, isn’t it?”

“Hmm, I suppose it is. And I might be disturbed if you wanted to eat a swallow you found in the garden.”

“Mercenaries don’t have many choices, so I probably could. But if I had to eat anything here, I’d rather have that squirrel up the tree.” Byleth’s lips barely tip upwards and the leader of Fódlan looks up towards the tree as if taking in the squirrel for the first time with a barely wrinkling nose.

“And I’m still disturbed by your sense of humor , my teacher.” But Edelgard smiles all the same, a hint of her competitiveness ebbing in light of the softness of the air in the garden as Byleth turns from the bird to brush a strand of hair from violet eyes--it had been tickling Byleth’s shoulder, given their close quarters, and was a little annoying, but she doesn’t want it blocking Edelgard’s vision, either--fallen from a curving braid, tucking it behind that attentive ear.

“Maybe some emotions don’t have names.” Byleth’s head tips to the side, palm warmed by the soft blush along Edelgard’s cheek from the gentle touch of fingertips as she leans into a cupping hand like it is both thoughtless and a very conscious choice, all in one.

Warmth spreads from a clenching stomach to beating chest to curling fingertips, resting against El, who gently circles Byleth entirely in her arms, a little bolder every day.

Warmth.

Is this contentment? Maybe it is.

“Well...do you feel differently, now? Or is it still the same?”

Byleth’s head tips to the side, thinking it through before she leans close enough to taste El’s breath, wanting to be closer , somehow, which makes no sense since arms are wrapped around her and there’s no real way to get closer, is there? Or maybe there is.

Oh, she thinks there is.

Bergamot. Edelgard’s lips smell like the tea Byleth had brewed for her in the early morning, fingers curling around the ivory of a cup as a humming Emperor inhaled it through nostrils before taking a long, slow sip. The same tea likely sipped even when it grew cold throughout the day for a reason Byleth’s not certain of, and still doesn't feel the need to ask, because there's a certainty to the knowledge. This fact. That Edelgard is more than capable of brewing her own tea, but always seems to favor Byleth’s pot long into the afternoon, even after it grows cold.

Bergamot.

It’s not the first time Byleth’s had the urge to kiss Edelgard and it probably won’t be the last. Even though they’ve tackled everything together, they haven’t had much time like this, alone. Fleeting moments for months--

“I think I feel…” Byleth smiles--a little wider, however small it might be in comparison--gently guiding Edelgard closer as that blush spreads. “...distracted.”

And that quiet laugh tastes as nice as it sounds and it dances up into the air like the flutter of the bird's wings below them and it fills all of Byleth’s lungs with it until that content breath spreads through her and between them.

Edelgard's laugh is as beautiful as her smile.

Bergamot, she decides, is a good scent.

“Oh, are you, Professor? What by?” A light tease despite that flattering blush, gloved fingertips smoothing out the rumpled collar of a dark cloak; work that’s ruined the moment Byleth’s other hand raises up to gently settle in the small of El’s back, pressing her up closer, and those gloves fist in fabric until suddenly white is engulfed by the shadows spread over shoulders.

“What...do you feel right now, El?” It's a murmur--curious and soft, letting out the smallest flutter of a breath when one of those tangling hands falls down to her chest and rests a palm against the skipping beat of a heart. It’s...soothing, now, how Edelgard holds her. It's been so seamless, how hesitation has slowly morphed into...familiarity. How Byleth's body seems to expect it as much as her mind might, heart pattering like soft rain and shoulders easing like knots of a ship that have been unmoored into calm waters.

“Maybe...some emotions don’t have names,” It’s a breathless recall, leaning just a little further up into Byleth until their noses brush and the words sink onto parting lips like a welcome drink of water. “But...if this one did, I suppose it would be--”

“Lady Edelgard.”

Both of them tense, twisting around to see Hubert’s impassive face and devilishly twinkling eyes, voice monotone as Edelgard huffs underneath her voice--

“ Annoyance .” To Byleth’s quiet chuckle, before she says much louder, “ Yes , Hubert?”

Surprisingly, Edelgard doesn’t pull away, although she does give Byleth a far more apologetic smile as those white gloves once more smooth out the wrinkles they've caused in fabric before facing Hubert and leaning into the palm settled in the curve of her back for just a moment more--just a moment more--before Byleth’s hand dutifully falls, facing the familiar stoic vassal, as well.

“There’s word on the Slither’s movements on the outskirts of Hyrm.”

Both of them straighten their spines, then, tender could-have-beens once again tabled for another day. Another tomorrow, brighter than the day before.

They both have higher priorities.

“They’re heading towards Morfis?” Edelgard surmises and at Hubert’s nod, the Emperor sighs up towards her tactical counsel, something far more serious taking root in features. “It appears you were right, Professor.”

Neither of them take pleasure in this fact.

Those Who Slither in the Dark were not just slithering in Fódlan.

“But unfortunately there’s been even more...unnerving developments than just Morfis.”

The war room is full within the hour after Edelgard and Byleth have both been briefed, their heads bent and hushed whispers bouncing along the high stone walls.

The map sits stalwart upon the table, crisp and loose around the pins keeping it stapled to the large desk centered in the room, holes widened from half a decade plus of wandering hands shifting it about as eyes took in a war front.

In the center of the map still sits proud Garreg Mach, whose conversion these past six months following the Won War from a Monastery to a genuine officer's school has not changed its current occupancy of forces. It's true that many hearts' hatred eased with each and every day of Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg's steady, firm rule--more compassionate than they had been lead to believe through the mayhem and tragedy that consumed houses for neigh a near decade--but not everyone was pleased.

While The Great Beast (as she's come to be called within the troops, propaganda and pamphlets continuous and circulated, still) Rhea was felled and Dimitri, Deluded King (a term Byleth frowns at in its use every time), put to rest, there is still upset in much of Fódlan. Uprisings and spattered, enraged, frightened villages fighting back against who they view as an evil conquering force, taking away their land and religion, combined with the nobles who clutched desperately to their power and riches and crests, insistent that equality threatened their livelihoods.

“Perhaps if your excess of...livelihood cannot exist with equality--if you believe you require the lesser futures of the men and women you swore to protect and serve as their noble leader to maintain it--then you do not understand the worth of human life, at all, and are not fit to hold your position over them, von Gideon.”

Edelgard had been cemented in history as a fierce leader, but her rousing speech at a large estate set ablaze by righteousness in the North East of what was beneath the Lions Snare, where a noble had tried to fight the Black Eagles by using his peasants for fodder, would likely go down as a key quote to attest to it. There wasn't a scribe in sight as Emperor Hresvelg held a glowing axe to the last noble nephew of Gideon's neck underneath his mansion's towering stone pillars, the disgraced man scrambling backwards in the muck he'd fallen into from the gallop of his dismayed horse, cowering on his back with sniveling pleas as his flee from battle was thwarted...but the story has been told time and time again by every soldier and in every tavern Byleth's been to since.

All with such a great dramatic flair and liberty to storytelling that she wouldn't be surprised if Alois wasn't the first one to tell it.

Edelgard's amused face as they sat on a carriage heading back towards Garreg Mach a month later after quelling another uprising was well worth the bumpy ride and sitting next to a skew-eyed pegasus.

'--that's not how it happened at all! Edelgard beheaded him on the spot after he spat on an orphan boy that was working for him!'

'Oh, is that so? I had heard him jailed 'n Enbarr with the rest of the noble filth, waitin' judgment.'

'Oh, yeah--yeah--had a friend there, took his head clean off! He's not jailed, he's a yalm under!'

'You don't have friends, Jaspard.'

Normally, they ride proudly, but given the Slithers’ spies having eyes in every hill, it would be better not to be caught unawares by a trap. It was wiser to sneak into a caravan than to take the entire group across the border when Ferdinand would already need to head Northwest and Petra and Dorothea South. At least, that’s what Byleth suggested off-hand to Hubert’s sighing assent, all of them breaking off to go separate directions in common clothes.

Which is why Hubert sets across from them looking unnervingly threatening towards a Pegasus that’s just licked his jaw in the back of a rickety, open-top caravan for the next three days. Byleth and Edelgard have settled next to each other far closer than they might have been were anyone else there.

This, for some reason, does not seem to improve Hubert's always dour mood.

‘I’ve never had roast Pegasus before. I wonder, is it a delicacy on the outskirts of the mountains?’ Hubert's smile is something reminiscent of the tales told of Byleth, herself, in the taverns: devilish .

Definitely not improvement. If this is how Hubert’s doing, Byleth can only imagine Ferdinand’s fear at riding in the back of a straw-filled cart.

Maybe he’ll think it’s an adventure. Caspar certainly looked excited.

'It seems this new Emperor wants the best for all people in Fódlan.' Edelgard pipes up underneath a particularly rough bump, a hint of red that might be indignation or amusement creeping up her neck and Byleth is just glad the farmers didn’t hear Hubert’s dry musing.

The men look back from their conversation and tilt their heads, appraising, and ultimately nod.

'Y'know, lady...you might be right.'

Byleth's sword easily tips underneath her nails to dig out the dirt, casually shrugging with a serious nod, stilling it underneath the next bump. 'She usually is.'

The red was certainly not ire, now, spreading further upwards and that same, amused smile twisting up Edelgard’s lips as lips brush along the dirt-scuffed cheek resting upon a sword's hilt, paying little mind to the weapon...or to Hubert’s heavy sigh across from them, it seems.

Byleth offers a smile, shifting to hold Edelgard beneath the next jostling bump so that she might steady herself against it. Out of the corner of an eye she catches t he Pegasus nosing beneath Hubert's chin as if trying to lift his scowl.

It's not a surprise it doesn't work.

'Oh, Hubert, we're just traveling companions. Wouldn't you say, Jaspard?' Edelgard's voice is practically sing-song over her shoulder and Jaspard, once more paying them notice instead of squabbling with his own companion about just how many nobles Emperor Edelgard von Hresvelg has beheaded, furrows brows thicker than the stray dog that wanders Garreg Mach's coat.

'Uh...yeah, sure?'

The pegasus licks Hubert's cheek and Byleth's head tips to the side, calmly noting:

'I think it likes you.' A thoughtful hum, 'I think you would make a good Pegasus Knight, Hubert.'

Hubert's scowl...thins. And maybe it's a trick of the eye--maybe the trees above them filter out the sunlight until it blinks--but she swears, just for a moment, she might see the hint of a smile.

Or, at the very least, Hubert no longer threatens to cook the pegasus for the remainder of the ride to town.

And thus thanks to word of mouth, the uprisings caused by nobles have been easily dealt with, and few nobles could find villagers to bolster their claims of outrage, these days.

Edelgard was fighting for them, not against them, and they were starting to understand that.

The uprisings regarding religion were...trickier, and Edelgard’s interference usually led to worse outcomes than if she hadn’t shown, at all, something she’d been reluctant to admit, but nodded after their last quelling of an insurrection led to every member of a church being toted away in chains.

Even now, Byleth is aware that had it been Rhea, the insurrectionists in the church likely would have been dead, instead of sitting in a jail, but the indignation of being locked up for ‘believing’ was gaining far too much traction to not be taken a serious threat.

‘It’s my job to lead--we’ve spilled enough blood, perhaps someone else might have a solution.’

‘I agree.’ Mercedes looks hesitant in the corner, but hardly meek. They all agree there’s been too much blood spilled. But Mercedes ultimately looks away before Byleth steps forward, eyes set on a girl she knows well.

‘...I think there’s a solution.’

All eyes expectantly look up save for Mercedes, who nervously watches Edelgard.

At Byleth's quiet insistence, these uprisings have been dealt with with the head of the New Church, Mercedes von Martritz, who has ended many of them before they started, establishing several Churches underneath Edelgard's cooperation , not banner. An organization subsisting within the Empire--alongside, not over.

So far, the most radical uprisings where Mercedes has not been successful in quieting them, Jeritza has settled them shortly after.

They’re thankfully far less prominent.

'I might hate this false Goddess and 'religion', but people still have a right to it, Byleth. Why would they think I would--everything I have done has been to protect them!' A rare frustration is as clear as a scowl upon lips, highlighted by the flickering candles that fortify the long spindles burning within a restored Cathedral. It paints Edelgard’s features in a soft, passionate glow, but also showcases the dark circles beneath sunken eyes. ‘They’re only prolonging their own suffering.’

'Maybe,' A shrug, gently stepping up behind tight shoulders to gently curl fingers around them. 'People are...protective over things that matter to them.'

‘That is true, isn’t it?’ Edelgard murmurs, shoulders tensing before they relax beneath scarred palms. ‘I suppose I am protective, as well. I am protective of everyone here--I’m protective of all of them. No one else has to die, if they would just--’

Byleth’s fingers skim along a cheek that clenches and eases just as shoulders had--dip down a neck that swallows and bobs--before wrapping around Edelgard's waist, guiding those sharp muscles and edges the rest of the way against Byleth's chest. A welcome embrace.

Edelgard sags against her like a sack of flour that’s been cut open, all the air in her lungs puffing upwards into the sky.

Because here, it seems, just like her muscles, she can hold on only so tightly before letting go. It's a feeling Byleth...can understand, now.

‘All you can do is...lead people, El. You can’t make their choices for them.’

Fingers hesitate for only a breath before they smooth along Byleth’s wrists along hips, pulling the taller of them closer so that arms wrap fully around her, twisting to raise her own arms around a craning neck before El's own head falls to rest there.

El fits so nicely here, like the proudest token nestled safely inside a box.

‘Then I’m glad I have you by my side. What are you protective over, I wonder--’

Edelgard’s chin tips backwards and Byleth holds her until a messenger comes shortly after with an updated report on Ferdinand’s slim hold in the Northwest.

It hasn’t gotten better, the two months since.

The war room is full of a tense silence after the news is shared, all eyes in the room focused upon the map of Garreg Mach, and the pins of their strongholds littering its aged surface. To the southwest, a few weeks’ journey away, lay a new pin.

A plague has started to take root in Hyrm, on the outskirts of Ordelia, much to Lysithea’s worry, similar to what had overtaken Remire but far worse. The stronghold borders what used to be the Leicester Alliance and the Empire’s hills--a key position against the annoyed nobles rebelling in the East looking to ride towards Enbarr.

The plagues’ spread is showcased by black pins trending a noted path upwards, adorned by the clean parchment quill of Ingrid’s handwriting.

Names.

“It’s spreading to the nobles with crests who sided with the Empire.” Ingrid concludes, face pulled downward as if a string had tied to her chin.

Sided with the Empire’s successful insurrection , as many people in Leicester would still claim.

“How could a plague attack someone with crests?” Caspar frowns, eyes flicking up towards the few empty chairs of their usual Black Eagle Squadron. Two notable absences with crests missing: Ferdinand, who has been dispatched to the Northwest of what used to be House Kleiman, whose strategic tactical position near the coast of the continent will be invaluable if Byleth’s hypothesis of the Slithers’ outreach stretching to their neighboring continents held true. Leonie rides with him, crestless. And the other was Petra, who had returned to Brigid to mend relations between the Empire and her country while assuming rule.

Dorothea, of course, was with her, but bore no crest, as well, and Byleth’s chin tips downward in thought, fingers tucking beneath a working jaw.

“Technically a plague infects, it doesn’t attack. But I suppose those who bear crests do have unique blood.” Hanneman offers thoughtfully, carefully cleaning a monocle with a handkerchief he tucks back inside his pocket. “It is likely attacking the unique signature of the blood that makes crests so extraordinary.”

“And if it’s attacking the blood , the options we currently have to treat it are, oh... nonexistent .” Manuela pouts in the corner, clearly disturbed, knuckles resting beneath her own chin as she takes in the map.

“Hmm...yes,” Linhardt perks upwards, either clearly deep in thought...or clearly deep in sleep, “Fascinating, really. It would have taken a good bit of experimentation on live blood samples of someone bearing a crest to create a strand of plague that could infect crest-bearers.”

Byleth’s eyes skim over Lysithea’s pale features before settling to her left on Edelgard’s stoic ones.

“Indeed.” Edelgard agrees, darker than any of them know. “Which can serve as a reminder of how dangerous they are--and always will be--until they’re wiped from existence. They’ve ruled by fear and oppression for so long that they don’t seem to know how to fight a war with any other tool. I fear this was likely their contingency plan from the start.” The discontent waters of violet flick up towards Byleth before once more settling on the board.

“So...if they’re going to worst case scenarios--” Sylvain rubs the back of his neck, scowling.

“It means we’ve got ‘em on the ropes!” Caspar pumps his fist and Linhardt sighs at the mere insinuation of probably how much effort it all sounds like but it’s Ingrid who steps closer.

“I think we should be cautious.” Ingrid sports furrowed brows and tense lines about lips but she’s grown so much since Byleth first met her.

They all have, judging by Bernadetta in the corner, quiet but present.

“Agreed.” Hubert nods, “They’re cunning beasts who have not yet revealed themselves to Fódlan for a reason. I would advise against underestimating them.”

“I concur, as well.” The Emperor herself agrees before leaning up from the board. “I believe you all know your roles. This changes nothing from our current effort to solidify our defenses in key strongholds. Cementing our hold over the continent and against opposing forces by sea is a high priority not for just putting out lingering opposition from the war, but from defending all of Fódlan. We need to keep an eye on our future as well as our present, my friends. The True War is still upon us. Be that as it may, Hubert, I’ll need you to notify Petra and Ferdinand of this immediately. We do not need to cause panic, but they need to be aware of the situation at hand in case it escalates. I do not want to send anyone to Hyrm until we’re positive the plague cannot be contracted by someone without a crest.”

“As you wish, your Majesty,” Hubert, with his ever-deep bow, departs shortly after.

“Manuela, Hanneman, Linhardt--”

“Fine, fine,” Linhardt yawns , “I suppose looking into this will at least be interesting . Let’s go ahead and solve it so that I can go back to bed.”

“Not everything has to be about a bed with you two,” Hanneman huffs and Manuela scowls, hands settling on hips. Indignant.

“ Excuse me--”

“Oh, that’s not what I meant and you know it, Manuela. I simply meant you were late to this meeting because you were--”

“Alllllright. Let’s stop shoving our feet in our mouth squabbling and go kick some butt!” Caspar, surprisingly, is the one to shoo them out, much to everyone else’s relief.

The meeting that lasts after is another few hours before the light that had graced the garden has fallen and started to rise, once more, faraway on the horizon but close enough somebody might be able to touch the ephemeral warmth of it if they became one with the shadows on the edge of its reach.

Soon enough, it’s just Edelgard and Byleth left in the thick of those shadows, candelight flickering above the edge of a map that’s slowly been stained red by blood and determination and time. White gloves had been replaced by a lightly-armored counterpart given the generals and commanders sifting in and out of the room and Byleth walks behind her, now, watching the way the light touches the dips of them and disappears in the red bend of knuckles above the map before calmly shifting.

Knowing fingers slowly undo the left gauntlet, its ply metal creaking loud enough to cover Edelgard’s surprised gasp for any ear but her Tactician's, who’s close enough to feel it warm the air. Fingers run over the scarred ridges of fingertips--and knuckles--and a wrist--before she does the same with the right, fingertips tracing a map she wishes she were far more familiar with than the one of Fódlan and the Empire below them.

Edelgard’s nose dips down, head hanging as shoulders barely shake and with a rattling, heavy breath. She leans back into Byleth’s arms, sagging just enough for those undressing hands to skim up fingertips to hips to arms to the other woman’s heart, nose brushing along the high rise of an Emperor's cheek.

She can feel an Emperor sift like that sand of time into a woman left behind in the steady beats of her heart, strong and certain below Byleth's palm. Rhythmic. Soothing. Like a war drum. Like the bob of a fishing line against water. Like the sound of footsteps walking alongside her in the hall.

Edelgard unwinds a little faster against her, these days.

And Byleth quietly kisses the ring on Edelgard’s finger and wishes it was Edelgard, herself.

“I realized what it was, looking at the bird.” Byleth quietly offers in her ear, knowing Edelgard has never been content with mysteries and secrets unless they’re woven by her own hand. “During the counsel.”

“And what was that?” Barely a murmur, the tension still pulling that smooth voice as taut as the string on Bernadetta’s bow, thin and sharp and deadly. But shoulders ease a little more as one of Byleth’s arms wrap around her stomach, gently twisting in a slow dance to press Edelgard’s hips against the table and hold her up within the certain strength of her own arms.

Byleth isn’t Hubert--she has no intention of taking Edelgard’s burdens solely upon her own shoulders so that she won’t feel them. Assuming her future wife is not capable of bearing the weight of her own life seems... undermining , somehow, after all Edelgard has accomplished and faced. No, Byleth is well aware of the Emperor’s strength.

Which is why she lets them stand together, instead, hand on a heart raising up to cup a cheek, instead.

“Protective.” Byleth offers, thoughtful and quiet. “I had seen a cat out in the garden--I’ve been feeding it, so it followed me. I’d forgotten about it, because I stayed with the bird for...an hour, before you came, and it didn’t feel like it mattered. But it did.”

It’s funny, that way. The strangest things cause emotions.

“Oh,” Edelgard’s features soften and it’s now that she seems to hesitate before she gently tucks her head in the crook of Byleth’s cheek, resting on her shoulder fully, once more. “You’ve always been far more compassionate than anyone knows. You have a habit of protecting little birds, don’t you? Animals--children-- students --”

“I know the bird can fly on its own, and it’ll see the cat coming.” Byleth wraps her arms a little tighter around Edelgard, then, whose hands smooth up the front of her shoulders, but this time they sneak boldly underneath the black of a cloak, flattening over biceps until the fabric puddles around scarred wrists. “But I couldn’t help but…” Brows knit as she tastes the word that follows, “...worry . I guess even though I had fed the cat, and I like the cat, and the cat is just...hunting. I understand the cat’s motivations--” Byleth closes eyes and feels Edelgard settle in her arms and--

And it’s...warm.

It spreads through her and settles and eases the tension she hadn’t known existed in her spine.

“You’ll fight for the bird, even against the cat. That’s...not the first time you’ve felt that way, is it? It’s a little bit of a heavy-handed metaphor, my love.” Edelgard murmurs, pulling away enough to look at her.

Byleth's read about protection: it's the desire to safe-keep something from harm; it's the emotion that wraps around shoulders like a hug, fierce. Loyal. It's a knight, like Jeralt used to be, if a person could be an emotion.

What emotion would Edelgard be?

“I know you can fight your own battles.” Byleth nods, determination settling in, “But I’d rather fight them with you.”

“As would I, Byleth.” El’s voice is quiet and her eyelashes flutter against Byleth’s palm, leaning...closer.

Until her scent once more fills Byleth's lungs and her warmth spreads through fingertips and palms and a clenching stomach and suddenly all she can feel is Edelgard.

“What’s...this emotion?” A breath, leaning down to rest their foreheads together, brows knitting as Edelgard’s fingers hesitantly raise to brush over her cheek--her neck--push up through her hair, as if she’s careful of it.

It’s the first time someone’s ever been careful of touching Byleth, outside of Rhea.

(Byleth has a feeling Edelgard wouldn’t appreciate the comparison).

“Hmm…” A thoughtful note sounds in the back of her throat as Edelgard leans closer in the earliest hours of the rising sun, light starting to creep up their bare hands and scarred necks and El’s soft, loving smile. “Anticipation,” Teeth tuck lips, “I would think.”

“Anticipation.” Byleth tastes with a smile and feels the thud of Edelgard’s heart in her throat and the shifting air between them and the feeling of fingertips growing a little bolder in their curl about her own craning neck, before leaning down and kissing her.

Love--

El’s gasp parts locked gates against lips and Byleth’s heart and the beating bird within as her fingers tangle in her hair and mutter ‘finally’ against her before they inelegantly clatter against the table and knock half of the scrolls off the top of it, the map tearing a little at one of the pins, both of them giggling and chuckling and--

Embarrassed and Happy and Giddy and Light--

--as they clean up the mess before Edelgard’s teeth tuck her lips and she blushes as she brings Byleth closer, once more. This time guiding her far away from the long table into the corner, sheltered from the kalleidoscope light of the stained glass windows in this shell of a building full of used to be’s and slowly heralding will becomes.

Neither one of them have had much practice at this, but love is something they can learn together, as well.

“Let’s try again.”

--Love--

Byleth hums as she kisses El again and again and again underneath the warmth of the sun until both of them part with flushed cheeks and knowing smiles and fingers that link until they’re forced to go their separate ways, a little more disheveled than they had been an hour before.

Love through tense weeks and months and half a year of a slowly spreading plague and continued fights. Love through stolen moments and kissed rings and emotions offered up into the air and caught by Edelgard’s lips.

“ Love ”--Edelgard vocalizes and offers, herself, as they lay in the grass by the gardens months and months later, tucked away in a corner where no one would think to look save for Hubert (because anyone who would look isn’t nearly as bold). Her finger gently, fondly tracing down the line of Byleth’s cheek like a painting, eyes bright and bashful as she leans above her.

“Is that what you feel?” Byleth asks, leaning into that fond finger and wrapping arms around her waist. It’s the first time Edelgard’s offered an emotion of her own instead of being asked--or implying it with an answer of Byleth’s.

They’re parting ways in a few hours--Edelgard to Enbarr and Byleth to the outskirts of Kleiman to help Ferdinand secure the territory after a surprising uprising in the Southeast of the fortress, near the coast.

A little too close to the coast, and a little too close to the spread of the plague that they’ve been monitoring since word of it rose. It’s convenient in the worst of ways that they’ve both come to expect, and it’s the wisest decision to send a tactician over the Emperor, however Edelgard desires to be on the front lines.

It was smart to send Byleth, they all agreed.

It’s funny, how time can move so quickly . She finds it hard to believe Ferdinand has been gone so long.

‘Let me go fishing’ , Byleth had murmured against the curve of Edelgard’s neck above mussed sheets and biting lips before everyone had arrived a week prior, hand curving over her hip and Edelgard’s fingers falling down to her chin and her neck and her heart as she hovered above her, hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight. It was the decision that made the most sense.

‘I hate this --’

‘...I'm sorry.’

‘I hate this, Byleth--’

A blink, coming back to the present. Do emotions always do this? Are they always so...heavily tied with memories and moments and the flutter of violet eyes like a blue bird’s wings?

“Yes.” Edelgard looks away--unusual, given she’s the type to tackle problems head-on--and Byleth shifts upwards on her elbows.

Byleth’s read thousands of books and nearly half of them mention love. People were fascinated with love and...Byleth was too, in a way. She’d never felt it, and never understood it, and could never quite grasp its importance. On a battlefield she had watched people kill for it and die for it and live for it--

It’s something so complex to capture that it doesn’t have such a simple definition like the other emotions might--it’s like a...box. A wooden, rickety box tenderly made and nailed, full of emotions that are so cluttered and many that they all have to be contained so that they aren't spilled and lost and forgotten.

A box. Maybe this...cluttered thing made out of the wood of her chest filled with a dozen--a hundred--a thousand other emotions inside of it, carefully latched and closed and carried about in a rucksack from campsite to campsite, safely stowed. Hidden.

Yes, a box. This brittle wooden thing with love written on the outside of it. Love...written in an elegant pen by a white-gloved hand. Signed like a letter--like a name--because Byleth would know that hand anywhere it pressed, branding wood and ink and life beneath its touch. A thousand keepsakes of happiness and hope and anger and a million other things Byleth knows the definition to but has only recently fully understood tidied within its cramped confines. Love. Some people throw the word around so carelessly--

Manuela, who loves another person every week

--or have never quite found what was nearby them--

Dorothea, whose letters to her professor list Petra more than anything else

--or have never found its purpose--

Felix, who loves training, he claims, but loathes the taste of battle before sniping that Sylvain will waste away if he doesn’t join him

--and Byleth watches the way Edelgard says it as her chin dips. Certain and careful--like the word means more than she might know how to explain, herself, and Byleth thinks of the poems and the operas and the novels she’s read and imagines each of them on El’s lips before she leans up a little further, safely tucking the other woman against her chest.

She watches the sun dance along her cheek as Edelgard looks up at her through long lashes, blush and nerves tucking up a thin smile.

When Byleth was as tall as his knees, her father crafted her a box, and she thinks Love might be like that.

“El…” Byleth reaches down to curling hand and untucks a glove where a ring has settled for nearly a year, now, hidden away safely out of sight like so many things are. “I asked you to spend your life with me.” She reminds, lips brushing over it in a quiet ceremony. “We’re engaged. You don’t need to be nervous.”

The blush deepens and when Edelgard tries to turn away, Byleth catches her chin.

"I--"

“Is it...so hard for you to imagine I love you, too?”

Edelgard is unusually silent for a long moment before her hand raises up to Byleth’s chest, resting over her heart. And she smiles. This broken, hopeful thing that reminds Byleth of the night she had returned from half a decade of sleeping, or something close to it, something she doesn't quite understand yet buried deep in those eyes.

“If you do, then it won’t be difficult for you to promise me you’ll do everything in your power to come back to Garreg Mach. Promptly. In a month’s time, not five years. No more sleeping .”

“It’s not difficult for me to promise that.” Byleth immediately offers, voice calm, watching the way Edelgard’s features twist and contort beneath their own calm veneer like a fish beneath the pond's surface. “As long as you promise to keep up with your training in Enbarr. I would hate to have to come sooner to whip you into shape. No fighting is no reason for your axe work to get sloppy, Edelgard."

“ Professor ,” Edelgard gripes, though there’s a hint of a smile in her eyes, “I’m being serious . You honestly joke at the worst momen--”

Byleth kisses her, feeling tense shoulders ease beneath her touch as Edelgard’s fingers wind in her hair, pressing them both down into the red quilt they’d stolen from a student’s bed, its hue vibrant and harsh above the green grass that resembles a Goddess's eyes.

“...I love you, too.” Byleth whispers when they pull away and sees Edelgard’s conflicting shock and contentment in equal measure--her happiness and nerves-- but her smile seems to make the whole world feel...unimportant, just for a second. A moment.

An instant and five years, all in one.

"Then I expect you to return to me...my Empress." Quiet so only Byleth might hear, Edelgard's knuckles skim down Byleth's cheek and the empress lets out a rattling, soft sigh.

All of those books had made love seem so complicated, but it tasted right the moment Edelgard had offered it.

But Byleth doesn't have to ask what this feeling is. They're both far too familiar with war.

An afternoon later, Edelgard’s fingers lingers in her own amongst the troops as their hands clasp to part--their eyes meeting and staying before they can't, anymore--and the Emperor sees her advisor off towards Kleiman, her own convoy heading the opposite way to Enbarr, a box tucked in her bag and a dagger on Byleth's hip. She leads the charge on a horse at the helm, never one to shy away from the front lines, Hubert’s look knowing and calm next to her.

"Until we meet again, Professor." Hubert offers before turning about his own horse, both of them disappearing into the light cast off of the mountains as Byleth turns towards the darkness behind her, the beast she rides neighing appreciatively as she dips into the quiet shadows left by cascading trees into the sky.

“You look happier, Professor.” Ferdinand casually mentions offhand, the sound of their horses hooves sinking into mud accompanying them during the daylight. He had met her halfway towards Kleiman, their intent to set up another outpost on the outskirts hopefully not heard by anyone else in the Monastery.

There were shadows in every corner, after all. Or at least that's what Hubert liked to enigmatically drawl knowingly every time they talked about the Slithers having spies.

“Do I?” Her head tilts to the side, remembering her father once saying the same, long ago. She hadn’t realized emotions could ease the knots of muscles until something softer could be seen underneath. Not until Jeralt had mentioned it. She’s getting a little more used to the idea. “And your hair is getting even longer. It suits you.” It's pointed out in kind and Ferdinand preens at the observation, offering a dazzling smile as he sits straighter on his horse.

“Ah, yes. I had initially thought it was unbecoming of a noble to keep it unmaintained, but I find I like it far more.” His chin tips upwards towards the sun--command looks good on him, as well, their battalion following behind. Well-led and proud. “Edelgard, though my judgement would have been sound without her commentary, did also state that it complimented my eyes, a few years ago, and made me seem more approachable to commoners.” Byleth doubts those were Edelgard’s exact words, “It spoke great volumes that we both were of the same thought. There’s many things I never would have assumed I would have enjoyed outside of the nobility. Who knew hair could provide such a cautiously freeing sense of enjoyment? So I've let it grow longer.”

“I’ll help you brush it once it reaches your hips.” Byleth helpfully offers and Ferdinand laughs, surprised and shaking it over shoulders.

“That will not be necessary, Professor.”

“It can be very difficult to maintain.” Byleth seriously continues, pointing towards it off-handedly, “In a battle the last thing you need is a handle for someone to grapple you to the floor with, especially from your horse.”

Ferdinand scratches at his chin in thought, humming.

“Ah, I had not seen that angle, Professor. Perhaps freedom does come with its costs.” He seems plagued by this for a moment before Byleth nods.

“Dorothea arrives next week, we’ll have her cut it for you. She’s cut mine, before.” After pouting that Byleth had let it turn into a mess, anyways. Which is strange because Byleth’s hair has always been this way.

Was it messy?

‘Edie can’t run her fingers through a raven’s nest, Professor.’

‘I have no idea what that even means, Dorothea.’

‘ Oh, hopefully you two aren’t too thick-headed to find out.’ Dorothea’s sigh could push mountains to the edge of Fódlan. 'No wonder why she never gives me any of the good stuff in her letters.'

'What?'

'Nothing~~'

"She can keep it long but still manageable. Then you have both freedom and functionality."

Ferdinand perks upwards. “She does seem to have a great amount of experience needing to cut her own hair and not having someone to do it for her.”

Byleth sighs.

He’s making progress , perhaps that’s the best they can ask of him.

Fondness --she can hear Edelgard murmur in her ear, a phantom’s touch as her smile might skirt along her cheek.

A smile, soft and quiet, graces Byleth's lips, in kind.

“It suits you, as well.” Ferdinand offers and Byleth tilts her head to the side to regard him, a little distracted in her thoughts as they continue on. “Happiness.”

Ferdinand just smiles and Byleth nods after a long moment, realization donning.

Happiness is the word she thinks her father would have liked the most to hear she learned.

Happiness. It’s a word Byleth knew the definition to, but never quite understood.

Not until Edelgard gave it to her.

Love suits me, El --she can imagine humming along her shoulder, because for now the only emotion she can imagine settling in that sanded, shaped box labelled ‘love’ is the rattling, large one named happiness.

#edeleth #edeleth fanfic #fe3h fanfic #fic #mine #catch me coming back to tumblr just in time to make cruddy graphics for questionable fics :')#well #coming back to my personal tumblr #>.>#this fic was longer than ever expected #but they always are #I know the fandom isn't dead on ao3 now #I hope it's not dead on here because woo boi I'mma bout to follow a lot o blogs about it #no ragerts

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safflowerseason · 4 years

Note

How many followers does Dan Egan have on insta and or twitter? Does he post selfies of just himself? What do the comments sections look like?

Oh god, I have no idea. Are we talking canon Dan or BMTL-Dan?

For BMTL-Dan, I have actually looked at the Pod Save America guys as a very loose comparison to the kind of career Dan might have…career political strategists who are still active in the field while also very clearly building their own media brands. Dan’s never going to be interested in activism the way the PSA team is, but he’s building up an independent media brand separate from BKD or whatever politician he’s working for at any given time, a public identity he can parlay into media/book-writing/boardmember gigs in the future. The PSA guys are all way more active on Twitter than Instagram, but I think Dan would value Instagram as a conduit to his stay-at-home housewife fanbase, where he can post more domestic pics that shamelessly play up his DILF status, as well as artsy behind-the-scenes pics of campaigns/running around the Hill/whatever BKD is doing. Twitter he uses for commentary and promotion (for both him and Amy) and dunking on Jonah. There are of course lots of fawning Instagram about how attractive he is, plus the usual intrusive questions, weird demands, wildly incorrect gossip tidbits…I also imagine Dan’s obsessive fangirls have divided into pro- and anti-Amy camps, as well: either they love Amy for her ambition and think she’s perfect for him, or she’s an evil manipulative work-obsessed bitch who just used Dan for his sperm. So there will always be comments excoriating her or supporting her.

As for canon-Dan…this question is actually surprisingly hard to answer, because the show actually does not frame Dan as a person who is interested in social media as a tool for his own gain (personal or political). This is interesting considering that Dan’s bottomless vanity and his obsession with appearances as a conduit to power make him exactly the kind of person who would be very into social media. It certainly would have worked as a way to highlight Dan’s craven need for any kind of attention, as well as his god-given ability to create media narratives that appeal to the public, no matter how fake they actually are. As Selina’s deputy communications director and later working for CBS, social media is a big part of Dan’s job, and the show just…glosses over it, in both eras.

In the Iannucci-era of the show, the demands of Dan’s job necessitate that he lives his life pretty online, even if he’s not necessarily posting about himself. (The same goes for Amy and Mike). I think we can safely infer that Dan probably has his own Twitter account, and he’s possibly running Selina’s VPOTUS Twitter before she becomes President, and we also know that he knows his way around Spotify. The show never mentions Instagram (I don’t think?), but I think it’s safe to assume Dan has one. Working for Selina, his profiles would have to be just as carefully coordinated as hers. He could only post (and like) things that supported her message and branding. Even if his accounts are not formally linked to Selina’s social media landscape, Iannucci Dan is much too image conscious to post anything that would get him or his boss into trouble.

(Okay, this turned into a rant, so putting the rest of the essay under the cut)

Still, Iannucci-Dan never mentions anything pertaining to his own “brand”—while Dan is very ambitious and we know he possesses detailed career plans that exist in multiple phases that involve referring to himself in the third person, none of this ever translated over to social media. There’s no explicit sense that Dan is trying to develop this kind of “Dan Egan™️” brand that can stand alone no matter who he works for, or how many times he gets fired/“resigns.” Building up his social media brand would be exactly the kind of thing he should be doing in between jobs, but the show never indicates he does that. Instead, he’s trying to get into lobbying, a career in which social media isn’t really necessary—how many followers Dan has on Twitter have no bearing on how good he is at lobbying. I feel like this is something that might have changed about Dan’s character if the show premiered in 2017, instead of 2012, but also who knows. Iannucci-Dan is also the type of guy who is constanty trying to be trendy and cool and failing (“Deck’s a thing, right?”)…I don’t think it's a coincidence that of the two “younger” men on the show, Jonah’s the one starting his own web series or whatever.

As for Mandel-era Dan, well…the fact that Mandel never even mentioned social media in relation to Dan defies all character logic, because his version of Dan would have been obsessed with his social media presence. Mandelian-Dan is clearly way interested in his brand—he tells Amy at the end of S5 that he wants to get an agent to launch “Dan Egan” properly. Moreover, Dan’s new job at CBS would have required regular posting on Twitter and Instagram, the careful curation of a sanitized celebrity image that would appeal to bored housewives in middle America. Social media is a huge part of that, and Mandel just totally skated over in favor of…plotlines about fake sexual harassment.

But this overall speaks to Mandel’s weird blindspot about social media and the behavior of public figures. He looked at Twitter as a news platform, not a place where politics actually happens, where public opinion and discourse are shaped. And there’s no way Dan Egan, after two years at CBS and thus with a decent sized social media following of his own, can swan into an abortion clinic in Iowa, in the year 2019, with the top aide of an ex-president who is currently running in the primaries and not have anyone notice and post about it. It just flies in the face of reality. (To compare with a different politial universe, Josh Lyman in The West Wing totals a Prius at a car dealership in D.C and it blows up on the local blogs IN THE YEAR 2004.) This isn't even getting into the Amy of it all, and whatever limited attention she might command. Now, I don’t want to frame Dan as a major American celebrity who can’t walk the streets unbothered. He is distinctly not. Being a well-regarded communications strategist—or even a failed morning news host—is not the same as being a Clooney. But Dan undoubtedly operates in the public eye to a new degree after his CBS gig, and the fact that the show never explored that new dimension of his career is mind-boggling to me.

Of course, Sex-Psychopath Dan wouldn’t last two minutes on social media without an underage girl outing him as a predator, and obviously the power of Dan’s golden dick had to be highlighted first and foremost in S7, so I guess an entire paradigm-shifting dimension of modern politics had to be ignored. If I sound cranky and bitter, it is because I am. Mandel’s complete ignorance of social media, which defined Trump’s campaign (apparently a huge source of inspiration for S7) is in fact one of the most infurating parts of Veep’s final season to me, and I will never stop whining about it.

Anyway, to wrap up my rant, I actually have no idea what canon-Dan might get up to on social media, because the show actually does not indicate that Dan is a social-media user beyond whatever is required for his job. Mandel-Dan would just post selfies, for sure. Iannucci-Dan would understand that building a political brand is not like building an influencing brand, and would probably do a lot more “behind-the-scenes” posting, with the very occasional selfie (and occasional glimpse of Amy, presumably). Since social media features so prominently in @thebookofmaev’s most recent fic, I imagine she might also have some thoughts on this topic!

#dan egan #veep and social media

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eponymous-rose · 5 years

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E66

This week’s guests are Sam Riegel and Liam O’Brien!

Liam: “Listen, Sam and I went on a date before this. We came pre-greased!”

Sam: “We are drunk!”

[id: A very cheerful Sam and Liam playing with giant metallic springs (Webby awards). end id]

Announcements: Starting with this week’s episode, CR is starting a live captioning service! There is now a live stenographer! There will be a sponsored broadcast before CR begins: at 3PM Pacific on Twitch, Matt and Marisha will play Knights of Pen and Paper 2! (The VOD will be on YouTube on Saturday if you miss it live.) CR’s Pride shirt is in the store! There’s a new emote of Bullock (Brian and Ashley’s new puppy) in the chat!

Episode 66: Beneath Bazzoxan

Stats for this week’s episode: Nott passed Caleb for 3rd most Natural 20s (44 vs. 42). Caleb passed Beau for 2nd most kills (34 vs. 33). Nott stole her platinum flask in Trostenwald 173 days ago in-game. It has been enchanted for 159 days.

Does Sam know where the flask is? Liam learned about it after the game. Sam: “I don’t metagame, Liam. I don’t metagame... but let’s just say I can hypothesize. My hypothesis is that Laura’s not quite as sneaky as she thinks she is. And maybe as she said it I saw her say it to Matt.” He loves the shit-stirring.

Liam startles Henry and runs over to apologize:

[id: Liam patting Henry while Brian looks on. end id]

Sam thinks that Yasha’s the strongest of the Nein, and if anyone’s going to be used as bait, she might be the best off. Caleb feels good about the group’s ability to handle threats together, and he isn’t too stressed out about this.

Caleb took the lead speaking to the drow soldiers in Bazzoxan when the rest of the group (especially Fjord) hesitated, partly because he felt responsible for getting them where they are.

Sam doesn’t think Nott has quite figured out what’s triggering her drinking versus not drinking. “There’s a lot of uncertainty in her life right now about where she’s supposed to be.” Caleb is really wavering about when/whether to give Nott the bottle of booze he bought for her.

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Vax! (artist: minomotu, photographer: yenra)

Brian: “My only concern... they appear to be at the mall.” Liam: “Vax sees that Orange Julius and is about to double-dash.”

Nott doesn’t suspect Jester would do “anything against her co-detective. But sidenote: there’s a lot of members of the Mighty Nein that are shady motherfuckers.” She suspects pretty much everyone except Jester at this point.

For Caleb, the gods are greater beings and powers way beyond his control, and he thinks of himself as a rat in a maze trying to avoid the big predators. It’s only recently that he’s started to realize that the gods could provide useful abilities. Nott’s a little familiar with the Wildmother, coming from a farming community, but that’s about it (and the Wildmother isn’t approved in the Empire). “Not a lot of religion in Veth/Nott’s life.” Sam says that, next campaign, he’d be interested in playing a character with some religious facets. Liam: “I agree. Maybe I’ll tell you to do that.”

Sam has a whole character planned out for a theoretical campaign three. (”Might use it this campaign when Nott dies.”)

Caleb loved flying and being the Giant Eagle, and he found the lower intelligence freeing. “He relaxed in a way that he never thought that he could. He’s very confused that something that is not a cat could feel so awesome.”

Sam pulls a muscle in his side from laughing too hard. Brian: “You pulled a Marisha!”

Nott is more and more aware of how little they actually know about Yasha. “There is no world where the word Orphanmaker is a good thing.” Nott’s suspicious that something’s up with here. Liam points out that Yasha has told some people a lot, but other people nothing, which is often the case in this campaign. (Caleb actually missed most of Beau’s info-drops and knows basically nothing about Beau, aside from liking her and generally trusting her.)

There’s a debate about how to pronounce ‘Aasimar'. Liam: “It’s just ASMR.”

There’s a very convoluted conversation that somehow circles back to the Satanic Panic, as all things D&D must? Brian: “Satan was the friend we made along the way.”

Fan Art of the Week: Yasha with the statue weeping blood (by carnivalroses)

Sam: “The show is just petting Henry and checking Apple watches now. Max literally left. He walked out of the room. He’s done with the show. I think he quit.”

Nott hasn’t thought about the mask or the gloves for a long time, and hasn’t been wearing the wrappings. “It’s a bit liberating for Nott/Veth to just be out there. She hasn’t really had to hide in the shadows or feel like people are looking at her weird.” Caleb feels exactly the same at the moment; he doesn’t have to hide here. Sam: “Wow. Maybe we are in love.”

Brian mentions that All Work No Play season 2 production is underway. Sam confirms that they didn’t die while filming the first episode.

Henry gets his just rewards (Webby awards, that is!):

[id: Henry looking unimpressed, snoozing next to the Webby awards. end id]

Brian: “I’d like to thank you, drunk Sam, and drunk Liam for joining us.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers

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collapsingintojupiter · 4 years

Text

So recently I did the adventure “Arecibo” on Io; the first time it freaked me out a little so I grabbed a friend and we did it again. I’m glad we did, because I found out that it referenced a lot of human history in a very interesting way once I started digging into it.

Now, I know I’m not a Destiny vet in any way, so don’t hate on me if I’m off on a few details. I’m just here to have fun and guess at some things. If you’ve got ideas though, feel free to add them.

Anyways, let’s dig into the analysis of this thing, shall we?

The adventure opens up with Ghost hearing what he says is strange music, which you learn later is capable of affecting the Vex as well as himself. Not only that, but he says it predates the Traveler’s arrival in our system.

However, that’s not the interesting part.

The interesting part was that, in these “music boxes,” if you will, there were several encoded messages. I wrote all of them down and did a bit of research, and what I found was honestly pretty fascinating.

Allow me to elaborate.

The first quote, “Real things in the darkness seem no realer than dreams,” comes from the Japanese poet Murasaki Shikibu in her book “The Tale of Gengi,” which is widely considered to be the world’s first novel.

The second one gets a little more interesting: “Misdirected by accident or intent, intelligence can foster its own systems of ecstasy and decay.” Now the quotation isn’t exact, but it comes from the African-American science fiction writer Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower. The tale is apparently, and I quote, a “ terrifying vision of a dismal future brought on by the willful ignorance, racism and greed of human beings.”

The third quote gets even more interesting; “Once war has been undertaen, peace is never made by pretending there is no war.” This comes from the Sanskrit epic Mahabharata’s fifth book, Udyoga Parva. This one talks of “the effort for peace that fails, followed by the effort to prepare for the great war” which, knowing of humanity’s current state, is a rather interesting find.

The last quote comes from the Russian author Mikhail Bulgakov, and his book The Master and Margarita: “Never ask for anything, never for anything, especially from those who are stronger than you. They’ll make the offer themselves, and give everything themselves.” In this book, Bulgakov apparently "portrays evil as being as inseparable from our world as light is from darkness” which I find to be the most interesting link of all especially when you draw from Destiny’s lore regarding the Darkness and the Light and their eons-long “game” of creation and destruction.

After that, as you know if you’ve done the mission, Ghost appears to be possessed by the AI you were following, and it screams something that sounds like “Red sands. Mars. Icecaps.” --before disappearing without a trace. I dug up a scene where Rasputin spoke to Ana Bray, and to be honest that part there where Ghost is temporarily possessed sounds a lot like him in the cutscene. It also seems like a reference to the Clovis Bray facility, which I believe is (currently) one of the warmind’s main locations.

Now here I’m going to diverge a little bit from analysis on this specific mission, because when I spoke to @cookieundertherock about this she told me that Rasputin and Charlemagne (I learned he was the Mars Warmind during the Golden Age and was overwhelmed by the Darkness, I’m assuming? I’m not sure--) were both fairly well-known historical figures, something I might’ve known if I hadn’t slept through nearly all my highschool history classes...

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyways, I was informed that Charlemagne, first of all, was a famous and extremely powerful king; Wikipedia tells me that he was “King of the Franks from 768, King of the Lombards from 774, and Emperor of the Romans from 800.” He died of pleuritis in 813.

That’s where the interesting stuff pretty much ends for him, but I found a lot more stuff of Rasputin, especially where I was able to pull parallels from what I found.

So, from what cookie told me was that this guy was like, really popular back in his time. He was something of a wanderer, and a self-proclaimed prophet. The tsar apparently really liked him because he helped their son Alexi, who had hemophilia, and he ended up with a very good position. His influence led a few to believe he’d made deals with the devil, apparently, and eventually a few other nobles got sick of him and tried to assassinate him.

Rasputin, they then discovered, was not very easy to kill. They tried giving him poisoned cakes and tea, and when that didn’t work they shot him and left. Apparently one came back later, and Rasputin--who still hadn’t died--attacked the dude. He chased him out of the place, to where he was then shot two more times in the head (I think, don’t quote me). I believe they then dumped him in a river but like...yeah. This dude wasn’t easy to get rid of.

You can probably guess a few of the parallels I found in that, but I do think it’s interesting that Rasputin is the only surviving Warmind after the encounter with the Darkness; not only that but he’s all over the solar system, sort of “wandering” between the AIs on different planets he has access to. He is also incredibly powerful, and distrusted by at least some guardians--Zavala, for example, has said multiple times that he doesn’t trust Rasputin’s motives and seems to be very hesitant to have anything to do with him.

Anyways, backtracking from that...

The last thing I looked into was the name “Arecibo,” because I figured it had to come from somewhere. And it does; Arecibo is an observatory in Puerto Rico that actually has a rather long history with trying to send messages into space; a bit of a well-known one was the Arecibo Message sent out in 1974 to celebrate the remodeling of the observatory, sent to the globular star cluster M13.

And with that massive infodump out of the way, I come to my take on this mission: I’m pretty damn sure the AI we found was Rasputin, and that he indeed led us to him on purpose. He seems to be letting us know that he’s there and that he’s plenty strong; that last quote especially in some ways ties to the end of the campaign “Warmind,” where Rasputin informs us through Ana Bray that he will take care of humanity on his own terms. Some of what was said also seems to refer to the Darkness; perhaps a warning that it will return or that the fight is not yet over, or both.

tl;dr the Arecibo mission on Io is fucking cool and y’all should go check it out if you play Destiny.

#I literally don't care if nobody reads this #but it was driving my adhd brain insane so #I had to write it down before my head imploded #thanks y'all for your patience #destiny #ghost #destiny theory

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levelstory · 4 years

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Music Reflection II, Early 2000s' was a Trip

Well, it has been a hot minute since I wrote a music reflection post. Last time, I talked about various songs from my childhood from the likes of Britney Spears to Stevie Brock. Now I am back to tackle some more music from my most formative years that will make you question how my music taste ever escaped cringy pop music from the Top 40. Coincidentally, all of these tracks are from the early 2000s’ so no 90s’ music here today. Here we go…

Miracles Happen by Myra

This song is the anthem ofThe Princess Diaries. That movie was one of my most watched VHS tapes next to the first Harry Potter film. It is the movie that sparked my interest in film soundtracks, and one of the most recognizable and memorable songs from the album was easily Myra's Miracles Happen.

It can be easy to forget how much work was once put into acquiring music in an age where most music is available instantaneously. As a kid, my ear was always turned toward the music in any given film and when I got to an age (around 9-10) when I realized these tracks were sold in one package known as the film soundtrack, I made a point to get my hands on a copy. The Princess Diaries is the first soundtrack I remember owning outside of soundtracks from Disney films.

My most stark memories with this soundtrack are playing it in my bedroom at my old house. Toward the end of our time living there, my family painted my bedroom a light pink and I got a desk that had a CD rack built-in (this was a big feature at the time). My boombox sat on the large desktop against the wall and I can remember listening to The Princess Diaries soundtrack on repeat. There are a lot of great tracks on the album but Miracles Happen is the true star and the true representation of the movie.

Before I talk about the track further, I just want to point out that this movie is great. We could talk about its problems, which it has many, but it remains funny, heartwarming, and a joy to watch from start to finish. This movie introduced me to Anne Hathaway and she just shines. Plus, Julie Andrews is in the movie and she steals the show! I know my opinion is partially influenced by nostalgia goggles but hey...just let me have this!

Back to Miracles Happen. What is easily the strongest aspect of the song is the chorus. It is so catchy and fun to listen to. The verses are enjoyable enough, but they feel a bit detached from what makes the song so good. The bridge is pretty lackluster. As discussed a bit in my first reflection, way too many songs struggle with their bridges. Look, I get it...but still. The only shining light is that the bridge at least transitions into a tune that sounds similar to the chorus which is pretty great.

The lyrics are fairly generic which is par for the course. They say a bunch of random things like "we found the missing pieces" and "nothing should ever bring you down", lyrics that have little to no emotional attachment to anything beyond it is a thing people say in this context. But all things considered, it is still a really fun song to listen to.

It Happens Every Time by Dream Street

Dream Street is one of those boy bands that flew pretty far beneath the radar for most people. Their first album released in 2000 and I distinctly remember the marketing campaign on television playing over and over again so that they were drilled into our brains. I guess it worked because I really wanted this album as a ten-year-old.

My friends and I loved Dream Street. I had their poster hanging on my bedroom wall (their album booklet unfolded into the poster). We made up dance routines to their songs. We even blasted the music through my friend’s house and somehow her parents never became angry with us. My most shameful confession about Dream Street is that we used to try and find their phone numbers to call them. Unaware that phone books are limited to local numbers, we would call random numbers to see if Chris or Jesse were home to talk. They weren't, and people were annoyed by our calls.

One thing people probably don't know is that Jesse McCartney's music career began with Dream Street. I'm proud to say that he was my favorite from the group at the time, and vocally he is the strongest of the group. His voice had not matured yet so it is always fun listening to his performance with his young voice!

It Happens Every Time was their big single and the song most used in TV adverts, accompanied by the music video. What got me thinking about the song and the group recently is due to some unfortunate events. I learned back in July that one of the members, Chris, died in June due to complications with COVID-19. He would have been 35 this year. Chris was often looked at as the Justin Timberlake of Dream Street. He had the fancy frost tipped hair and swagger to him that the other members couldn't compete with. After the group disbanded, he never found success in the same way he did with Dream Street. He died too young and too soon. After his death, I started relistening to Dream Street and it was this relisten that encouraged me to write another Music Reflection.

As with Stevie Brock from the first installment of Music Reflections, Dream Street's songs mostly center on their lust for girls in a way that is pretty uncomfortable looking back. These boys range in age from 11-13 if I am not mistaken, and their songs deal with mature themes that predate their young years. Not to mention that society has young boys singing about these ideas that they can't help their actions when they lust for a girl or they can't control themselves because a girl has them wrapped around her finger. Our culture normalizes this idea that men are vulnerable to female woes and that they can't help themselves. It is always a bit gross hearing young boys sing about it, especially before they’ve even hit puberty (i.e. Justin Bieber).*

It Happens Every Time is a song about...a song. It follows a boy who hears a "silly little love song" every time he sees this girl or thinks of her. This plane of existence, a magic place where angels sing all around them, is known as Dream Street (name drop!). Admittedly, this song is probably the tamest when it comes to the themes I mentioned in the previous paragraph.

Now I won't lie, this song is a bop. I'm still unsure if that is the nostalgia talking or not...I will have to dig deeper some other time. But damn I'd be lying if I said I don't enjoy this song. It is so catchy. The boys sing really well for their age. I am a sucker for listening to little Jesse McCartney belt his heart out. Jesse is the highlight of this song, getting a nice solo line toward the end of the second chorus followed by the entire bridge and some overlapping vocals in the final chorus before ending the song. He just sounds so good and I will admit to feeling a small sense of pride listening to him. I was there before his solo career and entry into Radio Disney hits and commercials all over ABC Family. Sometimes it feels like Dream Street is still so unknown that I can keep my memories of them all to myself. Though their time was short-lived, they stayed with me and so has this song.

Ordinary Day by Vanessa Carlton

Earlier, I talked about how difficult it was to acquire music before the internet. In the case of a song in a movie, there was a good chance that the song you liked would be on the soundtrack, provided a soundtrack was even released. Songs on the radio were difficult because you had to buy an entire album when you just liked one song, or make sure you had a blank tape ready to record when the song came on. Then there were songs you heard while out and about with no context. Those were the worst because you had to try and memorize the song and hope you found it somewhere, someday. That was kind of what happened to me with Vanessa Carlton.

It was her song A Thousand Miles that really gripped me as a 12-year-old. I loved it so much and heard it everywhere I went but never knew who sang the song or where I could get a copy. Eventually, I heard the song on the radio and bought her album...and ended up only listening to the three tracks I liked. One of the tracks, and my favorite of those three, is Ordinary Day.

If my memory is correct, this song was never as popular as A Thousand Miles on the radio, but it was super popular on the internet. This album came out around the time I first started using the internet and discovered movie montages. I don't mean montages used in movies but montages made by fans on Windows Movie Maker, cut together with a somewhat fitting song. If you were a teenager obsessing over Disney or Harry Potter or...something, you know the songs that people generally gravitated towards with these videos (the band Trading Yesterday were a staple of these montages). Ordinary Day was a movie montage song (every time I listen to this song it reminds me of an Aladdin montage it played over (which I sadly can't find)).

I decided to watch the music video for this song as I was writing this and boy is it a product of the early 2000s. Can we all just agree that the early 2000s were equivalent to that awkward stage of everyone's lives that we try not to think about? This music video is so clumsy and confusing. There are so many close up shots on Carlton and strange shots of people making out. Who thought this was a good idea?

But back to the song. One thing I appreciate about this song is how it builds itself up. The beginning piano is very nice but then it builds up with orchestration and I love it. I'm sorry I can't talk about it more but I won't embarrass myself with lack of musical instrumental lingo and knowledge.

The lyrics of the song are...ehh? The song is basically about seeing more in the ordinary and how the narrator is shown from an "ordinary boy." It isn't terrible but like the music video, a product of the early 2000s.

I unapologetically love this song. Yes it is corny and it isn't as musically sophisticated as I would like, but it always makes me smile when I listen to it. I can remember listening to the song on my headphones on long car rides and with friends. It is just a song that makes me feel happy and gives me no reason to feel otherwise.

All I Can Do by Jump5

Well...I'm surprised it took me this long to arrive at Jump5. What is there to say about this Christian pop sensation? Quite a bit actually. I was only obsessed with them for a good chunk of my early teens. Reflecting on that time of my life is strange because in hindsight, it was such a short period but it always feels like it lasted much longer.

Everyone has that one band that they really connect with as a teenager that basically shapes their entire life and...well, yeah, that band for me is Jump5. I'm not kidding, I could write an entire book about how this band shaped my entire life (and believe me, I am working on it!). As much as I'd like to talk about all of that, we only have a short amount of time so let's talk about this song.

As with Ordinary Day, this song reeks of the early 2000s. However, unlike Ordinary Day, the music video is much more successful in its execution. I couldn't believe myself when rewatching it...it is actually pretty darn good as far as music videos tend to be.

Choosing what Jump5 song to talk about was pretty difficult because there are so many in their arsenal that I can talk about for long periods of time and connect to life experiences. But All I Can Do seems to be a special one because I'm almost certain it was the first track I ever heard from the group. As with Dream Street, Jump5 had a big TV marketing campaign for their second album, All the Time in the World (in which All I Can Do is the first track). It was their TV advert that put them on the radar for me. I vividly remember seeing the commercial at Christmas time. It was the first Christmas spent at our new house and I can remember watching the TV with my gifts and snow falling outside. At this point, seeing pop bands advertised on TV was nothing new. There were always new groups trying to make it big as other pop acts had before them. But other than my memory of seeing this commercial, it otherwise didn't leave a big impact on me. I wouldn't start listening to Jump5 until a few months later after getting into Radio Disney. And even after I got into Jump5, All I Can Do was never one of their songs that I gravitated towards.

I wanted to talk about this song because of how well it represents Jump5 as a group. All I Can Do is their quintessential track, packed with energy and fun lyrics. But the track is also a representation of the group's core aesthetic of disguising "Christian values" as a pop song about a crush. For anyone who grew up on a Christian media diet (as I did voluntarily as a teenager), this is nothing out of the ordinary for this type of entertainment. In fact, it is basically a meme at this point. All I Can Do may be the least overt example of this from Jump5's library, but it is still an example nonetheless.

“It's like I got nothing to do but think about you,” (you being God), "I've got all the time in the world," (implying that time does not matter because in God you have everlasting life), "if you look at my heart, you'll know from the start," (meaning God knows your true heart and He knows from the start). I could go on but I think you see my point. There isn't anything inherently bad about this example and it is fairly harmless, but this isn't always the case when it comes to Christian entertainment.

Another trend from the late 90s' and early 2000s' was a pop group being a mix of both guys and girls but the guys rarely sang (A*Teens is another example that might come to mind). This song is dominated by the girls who share most of the song equally. The guys are hardly ever heard at all except when Chris gets his time to shine echoing the song's title over and over. It is easy to forget about them but alas, they are there.

Jump5 were known for their dance routines that they performed alongside their songs. They would often do cartwheels, flips, and very technical dance routines that blew many other pop acts out of the water. They also performed these routines live on tour, not just in their music videos. This dance routine is a really memorable one, showing the group doing a train-like dance which I remember performing with a friend. It is a lot of fun and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise! It was a lot of fun revisiting this track.

Is It Saturday Yet? by Nick Carter

Well here we are, at the final song, and boy is this choice...let's go with interesting. Nick Carter, known for his Backstreet Boy fame, recorded his own solo album after the group disbanded. What we got was Now or Never which is only ever remembered by the song Help Me, and even that is pretty forgettable. All that said, I owned this album and listened to it quite a bit as a tween. My most specific memory with the album is listening to it on a long car ride to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. Is It Saturday Yet? is the seventh track on the album and out of the five tracks I liked, this was probably at the bottom.

So why talk about it if it was my least favorite track? Well friends, this track is so bizarre that I question its existence on a frequent basis. It is insane how often this song gets stuck in my head and won't leave.

The song seems to be about a disengaged teenager being raised by Jerry Springer and video games (video games got a low blow for warping kids brains back in the day. They still get blamed today but it isn't to the same extent) who just can't wait for Saturday to come so he can be rid of his responsibilities. The lyrics are...dumb. They are clearly trying to make a point but the song is so ridiculous that it is white noise. And why is it that Nick and Aaron Carter always have to reference each other in their songs? It was cute at first when Aaron did it in his classic track Oh Aaron, but now it is just old.

"Is it Saturday yet? Cause I wanna get up. Is it Saturday yet? It just feels like a Saturday. Maybe it's a Saturday." Those are the lyrics in the chorus. It is a song so devoid of meaning and so lazy to its very core. It contains lazy rhymes and brutal instrumentals. This song is the reason so many people describe pop music as empty trash. Like, don't get me wrong, a lot of music on the radio is pop trash and is clearly put together by big corporate higher-ups to make a quick buck on teenage stars locked in a contract. But some of that music is meaningful and deserves to be recognized. This song, however, deserves to die a painful death. It is just terrible.

And yet, despite all of this, the song somehow still appeals to me. I still listen to it. I still find joy out of it even though it is just awful in every possible way. I think that speaks to the whole point of these reflections on the music I listened to when I was younger.

Is It Saturday Yet? may be the worst of the bunch, but a lot of music cranked out back in the day was mindless entertainment. As much as it bothers me, I won't lie and say there is no place for music like this because there is. Sometimes when I am driving, I get so sick of the music I normally listen to ("good" music) and I just want music from my childhood that won't make me think but will just allow me to bake in nostalgic goodness.

Revisiting these songs was fun, but I know there are more I want to talk about in the future! Stay tuned! What are some songs you listened to in the early 2000s’ that make you feel super nostalgic today? Let me know in the comments!

* It should also be noted that the band broke up because of a lawsuit in which the majority of the parents of the band alleged that the underage band members were "exposed to booze, women, and pornography."

#Jump5 #Vanessa Carlton #Dream Street #Chris Trousdale #Jesse McCartney #Myra #The Princess Diaires #Nick Carter

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fridge-reviews · 5 years

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Mini Games 4

The criteria for this is very simple, all of these games can be completed in three hours or under (without using exploits etc). The reason for this? Well I find that sometimes, often in fact, that people just don't have time to play a longer game. So I thought I'd show some of the shorter ones some love!

Shelter

Developer: Might and Delight Publisher: Might and Delight Rrp: £6.99 (Steam), £7.59 (Gog.com) and £7.68 (Humblebundle) Released: 29th August 2013 I always wondered what it was like to be a badger. I know that sounds like a weird thing to think about but it's just been something that has always dwelt in my brain. Shelter gave me a look into their world.

It has to be said its a very stylised game aesthetically speaking, the whole game has a design that makes it look somewhat like it was created from cardboard. The music was also very well chosen playing what I would describe as light percussive jazz as your badger sett explore.

Looking after your cubs can be quite difficult, I always found I was desperately searching for the next meal and when that wasn't on my mind keeping them safe from predators became my main concern. Honestly this game is so worth a look into!

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Typoman: Revised

Developer: Brainseed Factory Publisher: Brainseed Factory Rrp: £7.99 (Steam) Released: 15th August 2016 This is a platformer where you play as the literally word 'hero', like most platformers you work your way from left to right without dying too much. What makes this interesting is the word play, as in you literally play with words. Turn noxious gas into a life saving gasp by adding a p, or stop a trap going off by adding an s and it'll be a strap instead.

Here's the thing for me, even though I did enjoy the storyline I honestly had way more fun with the two mini-games that come with it, one of which is a word hunt where you get sixty seconds to find as many words as you can. The other is a bit more complex, in this one you are given a target word to spell and a series of letters. However those letters aren't enough to spell the word you've been asked for. So you have to spell other words and use a mechanic that you learned in the storyline to turn that word into another word that is associated with it. You then take what letters you need to make the initial target word. I know it sounds complex but after a few tries you start to get into the swing of it.

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Tracks – The Train Set Game

Developer: Whoop Group Publisher: Excalibur Games Rrp: £14.99 (Steam) Released: 28th September 2017 (Early Access) Have you ever played a game that's just... nice? Something pleasant and relaxing to play? No real stake going on, no missions, just do what you want? That’s this game. I have to say I bloody love this game, it brings me to back to a time in my life I never knew I missed. Playing with Early Learning Center style wooden trains. You get to lay out the track (with nothing telling you you're about to run out of resources since there are none) and you never run out of track. It can be a ludicrous as you want it to be, just so long as you train doesn't collide with furniture.

It has to be said that this isn't just a track laying simulation game, there’s also a part where you can pick up passengers and actually act like a functioning toy train. Even ride in it. But I'll be honest here, I didn't care for that bit. I just wanted to keep building tracks and watching the train go from in the drivers seat.

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Nex Machina

Developer: Housemarque Publisher: Housemarque Rrp: £14.99 (Steam) Released: 20th June 2017

I'm not good at bullet hell games, generally I try to avoid them because they just get me angry and stressed out, I just can't reach that 'zen' state that some people do with them. However I did find myself enjoying the game quite a lot. Like all the games on this list its very short but it also has a lot of replayablity. Even though I finished the main campaign I found myself returning to this game over and over just to see if I could lower my completion time.

Its definitely not an ugly game, although its not like you'll get much time to actually spend looking at the scenery and models. Its also got a real love for neon pink, which I'm kinda’ into.

My only real gripe with this game is the cost, I find the price of £14.99 for this game to be a bit too high, not for how long it lasts and what it provides.

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Small Radios Big Televisions

Developer: Fire Face Corporation Publisher: Adult Swim Games Rrp: £8.99 (Steam) Released: 8th November 2016

A game published by Adult Swim and its a bit strange? I think the shock may just kill me. All joking aside though, games that Adult Swim has its hand in have a tendency to be rather odd, in a good way. They're one of the few publishers where I find that pretty much everything they put out appeals to me in some way.

So what is this weird game? Well for all intents and purposes, I suppose its easiest to call it a point and click adventure. That is what you do for the most part, solve puzzles in the environment by find the right objects to use. Also you have to corrupt cassette tapes to find gems to open doors... did I mention this game was weird? I enjoyed it though, I can say that.

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sigmalied · 6 years

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Sig’s Anthem Review

Verdict

BioWare’s Anthem is a genuinely fun and engaging experience that sabotages itself with myriad design, balance, and technical oversights and issues. It is a delicious cake that has been prematurely removed from the developmental oven - full of potential but unfit for general consumption in this wobbly state. Anthem is not a messianic addition to the limited pantheon of looter shooters because it has somehow failed to learn from the well-publicized mistakes of its predecessors.

Am I having fun playing Anthem? Absolutely. Does it deserve the industry’s lukewarm scores? Absolutely. But this is something of a special case. The live service model giveth and taketh away; we receive flexibility in exchange for certainty. Is Anthem going to be the same game six months from now? Its core DNA will always be the same, but we’ve already begun to see swift improvements that bode well for the future.

Will my opinion matter to you? It depends. When I first got into looter shooters I was shocked at how much the genre clicked with me. They are a wonderful playground for theory crafters, min/maxers, and mathletes like myself who find incomparable joy in optimizing builds both conventional and experimental by pushing the limits of obtainable resources ad infinitum. The end game grind is long and at times challenging as you make the jump to Grandmaster 1+ difficulty in search of top-tier loot to perfect your build. This is what looter shooters are all about.

If you don’t like the sound of that, you’ll probably drop Anthem right after finishing its campaign. But if you do like the sound of that, you might find yourself playing this game for years.

TL;DR: This game is serious fun, but is also in need of some serious Game & UI Design 101.

I wrote a lot more about individual aspects of the game beneath the read more, if you’re interested. I’ve decided not to give the game a score, I’m just here to discuss it after playing through the campaign and spending a few days grinding elder game activities. There are no spoilers here.

Gameplay

The Javelins are delightful. I’ve played all four of them extensively and despite identifying as a Colossus main I cannot definitively attach myself to one class of Javelin because they’re all so uniquely fun to play and master. Best of all, they’re miraculously balanced. I’ve been able to hold my own with every Javelin in Grandmaster 1+. Of course, some Javelins are harder to get the hang of than others. Storms don’t face the steep learning curve Interceptors do, but placed in the hands of someone who knows what they’re doing, both are equally as destructive on the battlefield.

I love the combo system. It is viscerally satisfying to trigger a combo, hearing that sound effect ring, and seeing your enemy’s health bar melt. Gunplay finally gets fun and interesting when you start obtaining Masterworks, and from there, it’s like playing a whole new game.

Mission objectives are fairly bland and repetitive, but the gameplay is so fun I don’t even mind. Collect this, find that, go here, whatever. I get to fly around and blow up enemies while doing it, and that’s what matters. Objectives could be better, certainly. Interesting objectives are vital in game design because they disguise the core repetitive gameplay loop as something fresh, but the loop on its own stays fresh long enough to break even, I feel.

The best part is build flexibility. Want to be a sniper build cutting boss health bars in half with one shot? I’ve seen it. Want to be a near-immortal Colossus wrecking ball who heals every time you mow down an enemy? You can. There are so many possibilities here. Every day I come across a new crazy idea someone’s come up with. This is an excellent game for build crafters.

But... why in the world are there so few cosmetic choices? A single armor set for each Javelin outside the Vanity store? A core component of looter shooters has always been endgame fashion, and on this front, BioWare barely delivers and only evades the worst criticism by providing quality Javelin customization in the way of coloring, materials, and keeping power level and aesthetics divorced. We’re being drip-fed through the Vanity store, and while I like the Vanity store’s model, there should have been more things permanently available for purchase through the Forge. Everyone looks the same out there! Where’s the variety?

Story, Characters, World

Anyone expecting a looter shooter like Anthem to feature a Mass Effect or Dragon Age -sized epic is out of their mind, but that doesn’t mean we have to judge the storytelling in a vacuum. This is BioWare after all. Even a campaign that flows more like a short story - as is the case with Anthem - should aspire to the quality of previous games from the studio. Unfortunately, it does not, but it comes close by merit of narrative ambience: the characters, the world’s lore, and their execution.

(For a long time I’ve had a theory that world building is what made the original Mass Effect great, not its critical storyline, which was basically a Star Trek movie at best. Fans fell in love because there were interesting people to talk to, complicated politics to grasp, and moral decisions to make along the way.)

While the main storyline of Anthem is lackluster and makes one roll their eyes at certain moments or bad lines, the world is immediately intriguing. Within Fort Tarsis, sophisticated technology is readily available while society simultaneously feels antiquated, echoing a temporal purgatory consistent with the Anthem’s ability to alter space-time. Outside the fort, massive pieces of ancient machinery are embedded within dense jungles in a way that suggests the mechanical predates nature itself. The theme of sound is everywhere. Silencing relics, cyphers hearing the Anthem, delivering echoes to giant subwoofers… It’s a fun world, it really is.

As for the characters… they might be some of the best from BioWare. They feel like real people. Rarely are they caricatures of one defining trait, but people with complex motives and emotions. Some conversations were boring, but the vast majority of the time I found myself racing off to talk to NPCs as soon as I saw yellow speech bubbles on the map after a mission. And don’t even get me started on the performances. They are golden.

The biggest issue with the story is that it’s not well integrated with missions. At times it feels like you’re playing two separate games: Fort Tarsis Walking/Talking Simulator and Anthem Looter Shooter. And the sole threads keeping these halves stitched together during missions - radio chatter - takes a back seat if you’re playing with randoms who rush ahead and cause dialogue to skip, or with friends who won’t shut the hell up so you can listen or read subtitles without distraction. I found it ironic that I soloed most of the critical story missions in a game that heavily encourages team play.

Technical Aspects: UI & Design

This is where Anthem has some major problems. God, this category alone is probably what gained the ire of most reviewers. The UI is terrible and confusing. There are extra menu tabs where they aren’t needed. The placement of Settings is for some inane reason not located under the Options button (PS4). Excuse me? It’s so difficult to navigate and find what you’re looking for. It’s ridiculously unintuitive.

Weapon inscriptions (stat bonuses) are vague and I’ve even seen double negatives once or twice. They come off as though no one bothered to proofread or edit anything for clarity. Just a bad job here all around. And to make matters worse, there is no character stat sheet to help us demystify any of the bizarre stat descriptions. We are currently using goddamn spreadsheets like animals. Just awful.

The list goes on. No waypoints in Freeplay. Countless crashes, rubber banding, audio cutouts, player characters being invisible in vital cutscenes, tethering warnings completely obscuring the flight overheat meter… Fucking yikes. Wading through this swamp of bugs and poor design has been grueling to say the least.

And now for the loot issues. Dead inscriptions on gear; and by dead I mean dead, as in “this pistol does +25% shotgun damage” dead (this has been recently patched but I still cannot believe this sort of thing made it to release). The entire concept of the Luck stat (chance to drop higher quality loot) resulting in Luck builds who drop like flies in combat and become a burden for the rest of the team. Diminishing returns in Grandmaster 2 and 3; it takes so long to clear missions on these difficulties without significant loot improvement, making GM2 and GM3 pointless when you could be grinding GM1 missions twice as fast.

At level 30, any loot quality below Epic is literal trash. Delete Commons, Uncommons, and most Rares as soon as you get them because they’re virtually useless. I have hundreds of Common and Uncommon embers and nothing to do with them. Why can’t we convert 5 embers into 1 of the next higher tier? Other looters have already done things like this to make progression omnipresent. You don’t have to reinvent the wheel here, BioWare. It’s already been done for you.

When you get a good roll on loot, the satisfaction is immense. But when you don’t, and you won’t 95% of the time, you’ll feel like you’ve wasted hours with nothing to show for it. We shouldn’t be spending so much time hunting for useful things, we should be trying to perfect what’s already useful.

It’s just baffling to think that Anthem had the luxury of watching the messy release of several other looter shooters during Anthem’s development, yet proceed to make the same mistakes, and some even worse.

Nothing needs to be said about visuals. They are stunning, even from my perspective on a base PS4.

Sound design is the only other redeeming subcategory here. Sound design is amazing, like the OST. Traditional instrumentals meet alien synth seamlessly. Sarah Schachner is a seriously talented composer.

I’m just relieved to see the development team hauling ass to make adjustments. They’ve really been on top of it - the speed and transparency of fixes has been top-notch. They’re even working on free DLC already! A new region, more performances from the actors... I’m excited and hopeful for the future.

#siganthem

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bountyofbeads · 5 years

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Democratic divides take center stage at first debate

https://wapo.st/31ZcPzE

SOULESS Trump 😢😭🖕👉“BORING!” he tweeted as the candidates began discussing the deaths of a father and daughter at the border.

Democratic divides take center stage at first debate

By Toluse Olorunnipa and Michael Scherr | Published June 27 at 12:16 AM ET | Washington Post | Posted June 27, 2019 |

Deep divides over health care and economic policy dominated the first Democratic presidential debate Wednesday, as 10 candidates jousted in Miami over the best formula for beating President Trump and fixing the economic struggles of the middle class.

The result was a prime-time display — the first national event of the election season — showcasing economic and regulatory differences that have riven the Democratic Party, including transformative plans to eliminate private health insurance, fund free college for most Americans, break up giant corporations and impose sharp tax increases on the wealthiest Americans.

The ambitious slate of proposals highlights the Democrats’ leftward shift, a trend Republicans are seeking to take advantage of by linking the party with socialism and government control. The generally sober event also highlighted one of the key dilemmas that Democrats face in their attempt to oust Trump — a bombastic showman whose name was only occasionally mentioned but whose presence loomed large over the proceedings.

Sen. Elizabeth Warren (Mass.), standing center stage with the most early attention from moderators, drove much of the debate with a passionate defense of disruptive plans that would face long odds of passage in Congress. She framed each of the issues as a question of determination, saying she was willing to fight and take on the “corruption in this system” that had created the problems.

“We’ve had the laws out there for a long time to be able to fight back. What’s been missing is courage, courage in Washington to take on the giants,” she said. “I want to return government to the people, and that means calling out the names of the monopolists and saying I have the courage to go after them.”

Her rivals were forced to respond, though they avoided taking her on directly, trying to explain their plans as different routes to the same goal.

“I do get concerned about paying for college for rich kids; I do,” said Sen. Amy Klobuchar (Minn.), a thinly veiled reference to plans supported by Warren to make public colleges free for all Americans.

But the two-hour debate proceeded without a significant viral or humorous moment to rival the kind of spectacle created by Trump during the 2016 debates that were dominated by the real estate developer’s shocking comments, off-color jokes and biting attacks on his rivals.

Trump’s campaign characterized the debate as “the best argument for President Trump’s reelection,” arguing that Democrats were proposing “a radical government takeover of American society that would demolish the American Dream so many are gaining access to under the growing Trump economy.”

Rather than paint a hopeful vision of the nation’s future, the Democrats onstage focused on the grim challenges facing the country — warning of a long list of serious threats to the nation’s well-being, such as corporate power, global warming, the humanitarian crises on the southern border and the growing economic power of China.

Perhaps seeking to introduce themselves to a national audience, the candidates only rarely addressed one another directly or strayed from well-rehearsed lines.

When Sen. Cory Booker (N.J.) was asked about previous comments criticizing politicians who pledge to break up specific companies — as Warren has — he seemed to shift in Warren’s direction, saying “I don’t think I disagree” that corporate consolidation is a problem.

Former Texas congressman Beto O’Rourke gave his first answer in both Spanish and English, but he struggled to respond directly to the question about how high he would bring the marginal tax rate for the wealthy. He spoke instead about ending gerrymandering while bolstering the Voting Rights Act and same-day voter registration.

“I would support a tax rate and a tax code that is fair to everyone,” he said, after the question was repeated to him.

Wednesday’s debate marked the first of 12 scheduled by the Democratic Party, including at least two split over two nights, with 10 more candidates scheduled to appear in Miami on Thursday. Polls show a wide-open race, even as most of the 23 candidates struggle to register even 2 percent support.

Warren was the only candidate to appear polling in double digits, with clear momentum after months of tireless campaigning. Three other candidates, O’Rourke, Klobuchar and Booker, have been struggling to maintain the early expectations of their campaign announcements. Six more, including Rep. Tim Ryan (Ohio), Rep. Tulsi Gabbard (Hawaii) and Washington Gov. Jay Inslee, have found themselves struggling to be noticed in the crowded field.

But all of the candidates were given a chance to weigh in on the key divides in the party. Only Warren and New York Mayor Bill de Blasio raised their hands when asked whether they would get rid of private health insurance.

“I understand: There are a lot of politicians who say , ‘Oh, it’s just not possible.’ . . .,” Warren said, fully embracing the single-payer health-care plan backed by Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.), who will be onstage Thursday. “What they’re really telling you is that they just won’t fight for it. But health care is a basic human right. And I will fight for it.”

The issue of immigration, an area of relative agreement in the Democratic Party, prompted one of the few fierce exchanges of the night — between the two Texas politicians on the stage. Former housing and urban development secretary Julián Castro sought to draw a contrast with O’Rourke by saying the former congressman opposed repealing part of U.S. immigration law that allows for criminal prosecution of migrants who come to the United States without proper documentation. Castro has called for decriminalizing undocumented immigration, a position Republicans have branded “open borders.”

“I think that you should do your homework on this issue,” Castro said, turning to O’Rourke. “If you did your homework on this issue you would know that we should repeal this section.”

O’Rourke said he favored immigration policies that ended the family separations that have taken place during the Trump administration, and to ensure that migrants seeking asylum are not detained.

For most of the candidates onstage, the debate marked one of only two chances they will have, in addition to the July debates, to spark the interest necessary to get them on the September debate stage, when the polling and donor qualification requirements will dramatically tighten.

Several candidates made clear attempts to grab and hold the spotlight in the hopes of breaking through.

At both ends of the stage, de Blasio and former Maryland congressman John Delaney, who poll the lowest, forced their way into the conversation repeatedly, with the former arguing he was the most passionate liberal on the stage and the latter playing the role of the most practical moderate.

“What we are hearing here already in the first round of questions is that battle for the heart and soul of our country,” de Blasio said. “This is supposed to be the party of working people. Yes, we’re supposed to be for a 70 percent tax rate on the wealthy.”

Delaney responded by calling such ideas unrealistic. “I think we have to do real things to help American workers and the American people. Right?” he said.

Booker’s strategy in the debate was to repeatedly personalize the issues that were raised. When talking about guns, he spoke about his Newark neighborhood where seven people were recently shot. “I live in a low-income black and brown community,” he said when asked about corporate consolidation. “I see every single day that this economy is not working for average Americans.”

Candidates focused mostly on policy but also spent time attacking Trump for his governing style and his record since taking office in 2017. Trump’s erratic approach to foreign policy came in for blistering attacks.

“I don’t think we should conduct foreign policy in our bathrobe at 5 in the morning,” Klobuchar said.

“This president and his chicken hawk Cabinet have led us to the brink of war with Iran,” Gabbard said.

“The biggest threat to the security of the United States is Donald Trump,” Inslee said to applause.

Ryan was one of several candidates who blamed Trump for conditions at the border, where migrants from Central America have been traveling in family groups, overwhelming U.S. facilities meant to house adults. Lawyers visiting some of the facilities have said that children in the facilities were living in squalor without access to basic hygiene items.

For his part, Trump weighed in from Air Force One, where he was en route to the Group of 20 summit in Japan. He focused on technical difficulties that forced NBC to cut to a commercial break when audio problems surfaced.

“.@NBCNews and @MSNBC should be ashamed of themselves for having such a horrible technical breakdown in the middle of the debate,” he tweeted from over the Pacific Ocean.

The president didn’t attack any specific Democrat during the debate, instead focusing on a candidate who was not on the stage.

“Ever since the passage of the Super Predator Crime Bill, pushed hard by @JoeBiden, together with Bill and Crooked Hillary Clinton, which inflicted great pain on many, but especially the African American Community, Democrats have tried and failed to pass Criminal Justice Reform,” Trump tweeted from his presidential plane before the debate even started. “Please ask why THEY failed to the candidates!”

The president has repeatedly weighed in on the Democratic primary, and he spent part of Wednesday doing the same. His focus has largely been on Biden, who in early polling has been leading Trump in some key states. Biden will join Sanders and eight other Democratic candidates at Thursday’s debate.

On Wednesday, with Biden not on the stage, Trump appeared less interested in the actual substance of the debate.

“BORING!” he tweeted as the candidates began discussing the deaths of a father and daughter at the border.

#donald trump #u.s. news #trump administration #politics #president donald trump #politics and government #trump #white house #us: news #democratic party #democrats #democratic debates #debate #demdebate #2020 presidential election #2020 candidates #2020 election #2020 Presidential Candidates #2020 Presidential Election

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theonyxpath · 6 years

Link

Last week, I had a great interview with the guys from the Everybody Loves Pudding podcast, and since their questions started with the early days with White Wolf and being a Magic card artist and led right through the CCP years to V5 and its several controversies, I thought this week that I’d go over a couple of questions folks have been throwing at us that relate to the whole ownership and licensing thing. And the difference between those two kinds of business deals.

(As soon as the Pudding guys are ready to post the interview, I’ll share the links with all of you. Mmmm, I sure do like pudding, Cotton).

I recently saw online somebody asking how CCP being bought was going to affect us and White Wolf and the WW game lines.

So, first, if you missed the news: CCP, the company that used to own White Wolf and who tried to create a World of Darkness MMO, but who ultimately sold WW to Paradox, who then recreated White Wolf as a company and created Vampire 5th Edition, were themselves bought by a bigger computer game company out of Korea or China.

Wow, that was still pretty convoluted, wasn’t it? Let’s try bullet points:

The original White Wolf, after years of creating great games lines, merges with/is bought by CCP, an Icelandic MMO company.

CCP licenses the rights to create tabletop RPGs for WoD, Chronicles of Darkness, and Exalted, to my new company, Onyx Path. The license means we don’t own those lines, we “just” make TTRPG books for them. They sell all the rights to Scion, the Trinity game lines, and the Scarred Lands to Onyx Path, as well, so we do own them and can call all the shots for them.

After years of trying to create a WoD MMO, and failing, CCP sells everything they have left that is White Wolf to Paradox Interactive, a Swedish computer game company. CCP at this point has no further ownership or connection to anything once created by White Wolf.

Paradox spins off a company named White Wolf that they intend to use to build the World of Darkness into the most recognized and coolest horror Intellectual Property in the world. They intend to do this by matching the right creators with the right projects via licensing.

This White Wolf continues with Onyx Path‘s license to create tabletop RPGs, but decides to create the newest edition of the WoD game lines, starting with Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition, themselves and let other licensees, like Onyx Path, publish V5 books as well.

CCP is bought by a bigger computer game company and because they sold everything White Wolf years ago, they have no connection to and their be bought has no effect on anything White Wolf related today. Or on Onyx Path in any way. Although, we do all wish them luck and a great future!

This corporate stuff does get complicated, don’t it?

Dragon-Blooded art by Melissa Uran

You might wonder why I can wish the crew at CCP good luck after all the upset that happened during the WoD MMO years – many of us still have flashbacks to the endless “stand-up” team meetings, and the sit-down management meetings weren’t much better – but without them licensing the WW game lines to us, Onyx Path would have had a very, very, tough time starting as a TTRPG publisher.

That gave us the boost of awareness and continuity with the old WW community that allowed us to build Onyx up and experiment on game-lines and business options that has enabled us to keep growing. So, yeah, I am grateful for that. And honestly, even with these great WW licenses, there are still many struggles that we’ve surmounted.

Contrary to some belief, and something that some other companies are learning, having a well-known and much loved TTRPG gameline is not a license to print money. Although good online gaming representation helps a lot, these days!

I used those bullet points to answer a few of the other questions, too, like “Why isn’t White Wolf doing more books themselves?” and “Did Onyx Path lose the White Wolf license? I see all these other companies involved!”.

A fair bit of the confusion, once you get past the corporate buy-outs and license definitions is just that White Wolf now isn’t functioning like we did in the first White Wolf. Which is really good, because back then, we were just making stuff up as we went along!

M20 Gods and Monsters art by Michael Gaydos

Now, for some quick notes from our Monday Meeting today.

First, Eddy Webb let us in on his iThrive retreat and “think tank” that he attended at the end of last week. Eddy shared a lot of notes on how to professionals and academics are viewing TTRPGs as learning, teaching, and therapeutic tools. Like I said at the meeting, it is really fascinating to hear analysis and data that confirms a lot of the ways we’ve seen kids and teenagers use games to help themselves.

Good stuff, and perhaps I can convince Eddy to put together a more in-depth blog sometime in the future, or even devote an episode of the Onyx Pathcast to the topic.

My notes from the meeting tell me that this Friday’s Pathcast is slated to be an phantasmagorical interview with the Master of Mage: The Ascension, Satyr Phil Brucato himself. With M20 Gods and Monsters and M20 Book of the Fallen handed off into the production process, this is a great time to delve deep into what Satyr Phil was thinking and went through to create those projects.

Last week’s Pathcast was an amazing deep-dive into the creation of Beckett’s Jyhad Diary, and many other things Vampire as well, with the Terrifically Terrifying Trio adding both insight and insanity to the exploration. They have stated quite clearly that it was their best look into a specific book EVAH, so it’s well worth a listen on PodBean or on your favorite podcast venue: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

Impish Ian Watson, our Community Manager, talked a bit about the LA By Night streaming V5 Chronicle from Geek & Sundry, and how at one time in the chat there were something like close to 10,000 folks chatting. Yes, that is a very good thing, even if you don’t follow “actual play” streaming. That’s a lot of potential players excited about WoD, many for the first time. Plus, I hear they did a fantastic job evoking the World of Darkness and V5.

VtR2 Guide to the Night art by Mirko Falloni

Finally, thanks to all of you who have been taking advantage of this week’s huge sale at DriveThruRPG.com, it has been a stunning success, and runs until Thursday morning here in the US. In case you have somehow missed it. Then, as soon as it stops, DTRPG is running the same deal, but for Vampire: The Requiem, Werewolf: The Forsaken, and Mage: The Awakening PDFs, all part of the Chronicles of Darkness. More info below.

So many things are happening all over, and yet, ultimately, we are so thrilled to be creating the projects that provide the impetus for so much of all that. It’s what we do, we make worlds, in fact:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

The Dystopia Rising: Evolution Kickstarter funded in less than a day, and two sections of the Threat Guide companion PDF Stretch Goal have been added, which is a first-person guide with mechanics to the various threats facing survivors in the DR:E world, and we have opened up a Community Content site for the game! Now we’re staggering towards a fiery Jumpstart!

Dystopia Rising: Evolution is powered by Onyx Path’s Storypath system, and includes all the rules you need to play as a survivor in the post-apocalypse, including rules for creating characters for up to 24 different Strains, variations on humanity that survived the Fall. It also has details on the powers of faith and psionics, along with advice on running action-adventure stories, webs of personal intrigue, or procedural investigations. And, finally, dozens of antagonists, including a variety of zombies and raiders to use in your series.

Throughout this Kickstarter campaign, we will be posting complete previews of the Dystopia Rising: Evolution manuscript as backer-only updates. With one week to go, you can back now and get the text to find out what are the excitement is about!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

Ending this Thursday, DTRPG together with White Wolf and Onyx Path are having a one week massive 75% off sale on all Vampire: The Masquerade, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, and Mage: The Ascension PDFs!

AND, starting this Thursday morning, we are having a one week only 75% off sale on all Vampire: The Requiem, Werewolf: The Forsaken, and Mage: The Awakening PDFs!

This Wednesday we expand our blank journal offerings on our RedBubble site with Vampire: The Requiem blank journals!

CONVENTIONS!

From Fast Eddy Webb, we have these:

Eddy will be speaking at Broadleaf Writers Conference (September 22-23) in Decatur, GA. He’ll be there to talk about writing for interactive fiction, and hanging out with other writers who have far more illustrious careers. http://broadleafwriters.com/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference/3rd-annual-broadleaf-writers-conference-speakers/

Eddy will also be a featured guest at Save Against Fear (October 12-14) in Harrisburg, PA. He’ll be running some Pugmire games, be available for autographs, and will sometimes accept free drinks. http://www.thebodhanagroup.org/about-the-convention

Monica Valentinelli will be a professional guest at Great Falls Gaming Convention in Montana the first week of October. http://gfgr.org/guests-of-honor/

Dixie Cochran will be at High Level Games Con in Atlantic City October 12-14, running a Women in Game Design panel, Eddy’s RPG Developer Bootcamp, and possibly making a surprise appearance at another event!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Jumpstart (Scion 2nd Edition)

Redlines

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

Fetch Quest (Pugmire)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

Adventures for Curious Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

In Media Res (Trinity Continuum: Core)

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

C20 Players’ Guide (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Manuscript Approval:

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Editing:

Dog and Cat Ready Made Characters (Monarchies of Mau) (With Eddy)

Changeling: The Lost 2nd Jumpstart (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Post-Editing Development:

Scion: Hero (Scion 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

Indexing:

Changeling: The Lost 2e

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Dystopia Rising: Evolution – KS is going.

M20: Gods and Monsters – AD’d and Contracted.

Geist 2e

The Realm

Trinity Continuum (Aeon and Core) – AD’d and Contracted.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Ex3 Dragon Blooded – Finals coming in.

Chicago By Night – KS art sketches and finals coming in.

Pugmire Roll of Good Dogs and Cats

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Trinity Core

Trinity Aeon

Proofing

Scion Hero – Putting in Neal’s changes, updating font

PTC: Night Horrors: The Tormented – Corrections over to KT.

Scion Origin – Doing Neall’s errata changes, and swapping out the font.

VtR: Guide to the Night

Lost 2e Screen – At WW for approval

Fetch Quest – Package design done

At Press

Monarchies of Mau – Printing. Dice and buttons printing.

Cavaliers of Mars – At Studio2.

Wraith 20th – Prepping the interior Deluxe files, cover design sent to printer.

Monarchies of Mau Screen – At Studio2.

Cavaliers of Mars Screen – At Studio2.

Wraith 20 Screen – Printing.

Scion Dice – At fulfillment shipper.

Cav Talent cards – PoD proof coming.

Requiem Journals – On Sale at RedBubble on Weds!

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: In 1859 Joshua A. Norton declares himself “Norton I, Emperor of the United States.” I mean, if you like WoD or CofD, They Came From Beneath the Sea!, Scion, or the Trinity Continuum…this guy was just the tip of the odd history iceberg that we draw on for all those settings.

#Onyx Path Publishing

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secretadventuresociety · 3 years

Text

Episode 31 Recap

Get hype, SASholes! I’m Bren, resident SAStorian and manic goblin dream girl. Welcome to Episode 31: A Long Day’s End.

A Challenger Approaches!

With Mother (hopefully) vanquished and Kerti’s whereabouts unknown, our heroes hear fleeting whispers of ‘they’re coming, she’s coming’ whistling in the icy wind flowing through the cave. Sharing a Let’s-Put-A-Pin-In-That glance, the trio check in with each other because-- lest we forget-- they have just survived a run-in with an evil being who was masquerading as Kü’s mom. Sorry, did I say run-in? I meant battle for their lives. Anywho! They all seem to be physically unscathed, though that emotional trauma will last forever. IYKYK. Kü, of course, is the most affected, though his worries go straight to Kess, who Mother had just tried to strangle and not in the sexy way. Pearce attempts to make light of the situation by telling Kü it couldn’t have been too bad because Kess didn’t black out and see her friend, Ashe.

Which, speaking OF ash, the group starts smelling smoke. All of their combined hackles raise-- each probably thinking of a different entity. They really do be running into a lot of fire-related individuals, so this makes sense. When they actually SEE physical evidence of smoke trailing from further in the tunnel, they realize they might not be alone in this cave. Pearce elects Kü to lead them to the source, stating that he has darkvision and that will be to their tactical advantage. I mean, true, but this is also the helmetless kobold who just lost his ‘mother’ for the second time. I’m begging SOMEONE to give him a break. God, Lathander, DM, anyone?? As they go deeper, however, thin sheets of ice on the ceiling seem to be letting blue-tinted morning sunlight in. This literally lightens the mood until they come to a ledge-- one set up with a VERY recent campsite.

The party can tell right away that this is where the smoke has originated from, and looking closer, they spot a figure. A DANCING figure. What appears to be a four foot tall, staff wielding, gymnast built, olive skinned, winged individual is currently stirring an alluring pot of food while having the best time of his life. Understandably afraid, Kü attempts to summon his Blight Bow-- and nothing happens. Instead, he and Pearce decide to ambush the stranger, one going to the left of him and the other going right. Kü is spotted, and in defense, he grabs a broken liquor bottle (that he has been holding onto since the BEGINNING of this campaign, y’all), and chucks it at the head of his presumed assailant. In this instant, everyone braces for a fight, INCLUDING our guest star, Pongu, played by the fantastic Sonny-- who fans may recognize from the Hollaback Charity&D stream!

The Three Mardostateers

Kess instinctively heals herself as she notices her companions go into a fighting stance; having stayed away from the ledge. She was sure the humanoid meant no harm, but it’s hard to preach benefit of the doubt with a hotheaded gunslinger and a manipulated kobold. Instead of retaliating, Pongu tries to diffuse the situation. He laughs off the projectile Kü hurled and tells the group that they didn’t have to throw things if they wanted food; he has plenty to share. It’s then that the exhausted and hungry group smells the bounty for the first time. It is heavy with spices and looks like some sort of chunky soup. As we all know, food is the way to the heart, and apparently to the trust bone, too. Kess joins our apprehensive duo and the trauma of the past two days comes tumbling out of them.

Pongu listens intently, and when they’re done, calls over a beautiful, starry owl (named Nalani) over to him. Kü startles, having instant predator flashbacks. With a smile, the fairy tells his companion that this group needs some extra love, to which the creature replies (only to Pongu himself) that they both have a lot to give. Pongu notices Kü’s changed attitude and requests that the owl take some time away from camp to reform himself into something less intimidating, like a cat. The kobold relaxes as the animal leaves, and Kess changes the subject. She begins to question Pongu about his presence in the cave-- and mentions that she thought it belonged to someone she knew. Pongu assures her that he is just passing through, and had chosen the cave to take respite in.

The fairy goes on to explain that he is from the Feywild, and that he has been searching all over-- sailing the seas-- and winding up on the material plane for the ingredients for a perfect fey wedding cake. He used to be an adventurer long ago-- now at an estimated 300+ years of age-- but now is a professional chef and ‘fixer of things’. This draws Kü’s interest, and he wonders aloud if Pongu might be able to repair his mother’s skulll-- but quickly has this hope dashed when Pongu asks if the kobold has all of the pieces. Pearce, feeling Kü’s disappointment, offers to go back and see if there’s anything left, but is denied. Having gotten Pongu’s life story, the group feels the need to share as well. They first attempt to lie (except for Kess) and say their names are Uk and Ferdinand [I will let you guys which one is which] and that they are all three from Mardosta. The truth quickly comes out, however, and Pongu takes it in stride, excitedly asking if Kess (the true Mardostan native) can get him rare spices from the area.

A Lesson in Bonding

Taking a moment for herself, Kess separates from the group and goes to the neighboring hot spring. She discards some of her clothing and jumps in-- drifting to the bottom. Once she reaches the soil there, the druid draws on her inner power and grows a flower. It is still black with a white iris, but the floret adapts to its watery surroundings-- taking on an aquatic formation. Kess takes no time to marvel at it, instead using the rest of her depleting energy to focus on the plant and attempts to contact Ashe. After a bit, she realizes there isn’t going to be a response. So, the changeling flips off the bloom and pushes herself to the surface, dressing once more and cursing under her breath.

In Kess’ absence, Pearce and Kü warn Pongu about Skugamor and give him a head’s up about Kerti (who we really haven’t gotten to know yet). The gunslinger sighs and half-heartedly complains that everyone has voices in their heads except for him. The fairy listens gratefully while taking out a Santa-Claus-worthy bag of toys to keep his hands busy. He explains that he likes to fix up old toys and give them new homes-- and Kü asks if he has a paddleball related plaything. Pongu brightly hands him a Bilboque (I really didn’t want to write cup-and-ball. But you guys made me anyway. Good job) and takes to it instantly.

Sensing how worn out the adventurers are, Pongu casts Tiny Hut, creating a dome with a starry ceiling and a light scent of flowers swirling through the air. Pearce sees Kess step into the space and he greets her, hugging her to him as she spirals in a panic attack. He tells her that everything is going to be okay, and that he feels that is true because he has not been this comfortable anywhere but Mardosta. The contact soothes the changeling, and she steps back from Pearce and truly looks at him for the first time after their ordeal. Her eyes widen at the state of his hair; and the gunslinger grabs his things to run to the hot spring himself to shower. Pongu stops him, saying that he thinks he could fix the dirty, snow-wet mess, and Pearce relents. The fairy uses Shape Water as a kind of gel to mold the unruly locks-- and when Kess lets Pearce check it in the shine of her canteen, the gunslinger huffs off; happy with his look but pissed that he has nothing to be pissed about.

Look at the Stars

Using his misplaced anger as motivation, Pearce begins to craft more bullets for Iris from the components he purchased at the Night Market. He ends up making fifteen functional bullets, only wasting one defective try at the beginning of the process. The gunslinger thinks of his father and how Pearce used to watch him go through the same activity, and the fire of his rage is stoked by the realization that he actually learned something from the deadbeat. What was it that Smash Mouth said? When the hits start coming they don’t stop coming? Whatever it was, I’m THERE in this DnD stream. Someone make them stop.

As Pearce is artificing the daddy issues away, Kü tries to bring his Blight Bow out one more time. When it still doesn’t happen, the kobold admits to Kess that he has Good News and Bad News. The good news is that he believes Mother to be truly gone, and the bad news is that this means that his powers seem to be gone. Kess reassures him that they’ll figure things out; and Kü distracts himself by catching Pongu up on their exploits so far-- from Evercrest’s dying king to the vampires of New Hexton. The kobold then switches gears and asks the fairy about his parents-- with whom Pongu seems to have a semi-okay relationship. Kü tells him that he’s just trying to feel out where his trauma is-- and that he wants him to be as broken as he is. Big ouch.

Kess takes over at that point, trying to explain LifeWell water to their new friend. A combination of exhaustion and frustration overwhelms her in the middle of it, however, so she excuses herself to sleep it off. She ends up under a constellation of a scorpion, and Pongu suggests to Pearce that he choose one that meant something to him to watch over him as he slept. The gunslinger curls up underneath an arrow (yes, weapons are soothing, just ask my barbarian) and Kü doesn’t even bother looking up-- as soon as his head hits the floor, he drifts off into a deep rest. Pongu watches over them for the four hours they stay unconscious, making them a special (giving them ingame boosts!) bready treat. When they wake up, Kess eats hers and Pearce tosses Kü his-- who catches it deftly in his waiting maw. They take in Pongu now making pancakes for the group, and realize they have some decisions to make.

Case Closed

After throwing out their veritable to-do list, Pearce bangs the butt of his gun against the cave floor, commanding the attention of the other three speakers. He makes an executive decision that they should all go check on the Shadowmore family. They have no idea if they are still safe from Skugamor, and Kess needs to speak with them before they either stay for the Mardosta ball or move on to their next task. The Nobodies look toward Pongu, gauging his interest in joining them for a time. The fairy packs up the leftover food from the night before-- leaving a note that anyone who comes by it is welcome to it-- and agrees to travel with the trio. Kess warns Kü before she shifts back into her owl form, which turns out to be large enough to carry her humanoid companions.

They make a long, cold flight back-- and all seems quiet at the Shadowmore manor. The group makes their way to the fourth floor (you remember, the PARENT wing) and finds it empty. Searching frantically, they finally see them standing in the greenhouse, marvelling over Kess’ new and hydraulic flower. Norse turns around and exclaims her thankfulness for her daughter’s safety, counting the number of still-alive-friends with her, and greets the sunny newcomer. OMG. Did you see what I did there? Sunny cause Pongu is a literal ray of light but also-- Sonny?? His player?! That was COMPLETELY UNINTENTIONAL! WITNESS ME! Fine. I digress. The party catches the elder Shadowmores up to speed just before Brienne, our lovely tabaxi detective, strides into the greenhouse. Pongu introduces himself as Brienne looks over him curiously, and the investigator sighs, grateful that she doesn’t have to question yet another for Xarus’ murder. Hearing of this foul play for the first time, the fairy looks over to his new friends and says, “There’s a lot of death around you three, huh?”

The Nobodies stammer in unison, attempting to laugh off this outburst. Brienne pays it no mind, pushing forward to ask to speak with the group. She tells them that Xarus was found with poison in his system, and had a snapped neck-- probably from strangulation. The tabaxi had spoken with onlookers at the Underfrost as well as the cooking staff at the Shadowmore estate, who both told her that they experienced a similar phenomenon with shadow magic. It’s then that they come clean, handing the detective the page on Skugamor (which Brienne RIGHTFULLY chides Kess for stealing) and Kü recounts his almost-lifelong-ordeal under her influence. With a small, conspiratorial smile-- Brienne concludes that Xarus’ death must have been a suicide. She tells the group that if they did not take care of Skugamor that she would be unable to protect them-- but if the entity was really and truly gone, she was more than happy to close the case. She bids them farewell, and as they all let loose a breath they didn’t know they were holding (hello, YA roots) and Pongu smiles widely at them. He professes that he will be there for this courageous party until they no longer need him.

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TL;DR

Give a BIG SAShole welcome to Pongu and Sonny! You can find him on Twitter: @SonnyPlays and tell him Bren sent ya!

Wait, where’s my starry owlcat!? How do you pspspspsps a fey being?!

Things are looking up for the Nobodies. Be a shame if something happened...

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Don’t Pearce your pants in anticipation, but you can catch the next session over at twitch.tv/lochness on September 22nd at 7:30CST/8:30EST! If you’d like to watch THIS episode, follow the link below:

https://youtu.be/pXQxmi9dGbg

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thaliberator · 4 years

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The Clownish Way to Doom A Generation

By following Colin Kaepernick’s “they’re both the same, why vote” philosophy and skipping the 2016 election, progressives and Black abstainers opened the door for Donald Trump and Mitch McConnell to reshape the federal judiciary in a way that’s set to have dire consequences for Black people and progressives for the next 30 years.

Late in August 2016 as the American National Anthem blared through the Levi’s Stadium loudspeakers, reporter Jennifer Lee Chan tweeted a relatively innocuous photo shot from high above the field where the San Francisco 49ers and Green Bay Packers were set to engage in a preseason contest.

A then minor detail captured in the picture confirmed the impetus for a story Chan’s colleague Steve Wyche had been keeping his eye on for the past couple of weeks. What it showed was 49ers backup quarterback Colin Kaepernick sitting during the playing of the anthem while everyone else in view of the lens stood. In and of itself, standing for the playing of the national anthem before a sporting event is a peculiar ceremonial ritual so boring that it only makes it to the TV broadcast for title games and big-time celebrity performances.

But once Kaepernick explained his rationale for not standing, and eventually kneeling, during the anthem, suddenly those two minutes of pre-kickoff pomp and circumstance became the biggest thing in sports.

As he would later go on to explain many times across multiple platforms, Kaepernick’s decision came in the wake of the police killings of Alton Sterling, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown, Philando Castile, Oscar Grant, and the ongoing systemic oppression faced by Black people in America.

"I am not going to stand up to show pride in a flag for a country that oppresses Black people and people of color," Kaepernick told Wyche. "To me, this is bigger than football and it would be selfish on my part to look the other way. There are bodies in the street and people getting paid leave and getting away with murder."

From the moment Kaepernick made known the reason for his protests the backlash was as predictable as the outcome, and thus his fate as an NFL quarterback was sealed in such a way that only an MVP-caliber performance could have extended his run. That didn’t happen and he hasn’t played another down in the NFL in nearly four years.

Kaepernick’s on-field performance in 2016 and 2017 left a lot to be desired. After being relegated to backup quarterback he was thrust back into the starting role after the team got off to a 1-4 start. His presence under center didn’t really change 49er-fortune as the team won only one of its remaining 11 games.

While statistics suggest Kaepernick’s performance wasn’t atrocious, it wasn’t good enough for the 49ers to make a long-term investment in him either. At the end of the season, the 29-year-old decided to opt-out of his contract and try his hand as a free agent, a designation that would allow any interested team to add him to their roster.

But despite having guided his team to a Super Bowl appearance just four years earlier and having declining but decent stats, not one of the NFL’s 32 teams took a serious look at Kaepernick. A few coaches and front office people made statements that someone should definitely pick up Kaepernick, just not their teams.

Was his performance poor? Yes. Was his performance so poor that 31 other teams couldn’t find a spot for him even as a third-string quarterback? No. Clearly the controversy-averse NFL owners, even if not overtly expressed, were in cahoots to ensure Kaepernick never received another shot in the league — a theory born out by the fact that in 2019 the NFL and Kaepernick reached a confidential monetary settlement regarding his claims that owners colluded to keep him unemployed.

But that part of the story we know.

They're All The Same?

As the Kaepernick controversy ballooned in 2016, the quarterback became the avatar for everything from the opposition of systemic racial oppression, the opposition of police brutality, and opposition of institutional racism to disrespect of the flag, disrespect of the country, and even (bizarrely) disrespect of the military.

The opportunity to drive a golf wedge into America’s racial fissures and exploit the emerging culture war wasn’t missed by then-presidential candidate Donald Trump who infamously said to an approving crowd of hootin’ n hollerin’ red state whites, “Wouldn't you love to see one of these NFL owners when someone disrespects our flag to say, 'get that son of a bitch off the field right now. Out. He's fired. He's fired!”

With the presidential campaign coming to a head, football season well underway, and the pro and anti-kneeling camps firmly entrenched, reporters asked Kaepernick to weigh in on the race between Trump and Hillary Clinton.

Kaepernick, clearly the most prominent voice in professional sports at the moment surprised many when he said he didn’t plan to vote because essentially all politicians are the same, including Clinton and Trump.

Specifically, he said, “Both are proven liars and it almost seems like they’re trying to debate who’s less racist. At this point, in talking to one of my friends, you have to pick the lesser of two evils, but the end is still evil.

"I think the two presidential candidates that we currently have also represent the issues that we have in this country right now," Kaepernick said. "You have Hillary, who has called Black teens or Black kids super predators. You have Donald Trump, who is openly racist.

"He always says, 'Make America Great Again.' Well, America's never been great for people of color," Kaepernick said. "And that's something that needs to be addressed. Let's make America great for the first time."

And that was the gist of his abstinence rationale —they’re all the same, so I’m not voting.

It’s a relatively juvenile argument most often posited by people who don’t want to do the work required to actually change the reality of their political choices. And not only was Kaepernick not going to vote, turns out he never even registered to vote in 2016 or ever as far as any records show.

However, to his credit, Kaepernick is not your average apathetic abstainer. In the years that he has been out of football, he has become a high-profile activist, highlighting the issues that led to his anthem protest, held forums on a variety of social justice-related topics, and raised and donated millions of dollars for various causes.

He even started the Know Your Rights Camp, a non-profit organization that holds seminars for young people across the country to “advance the liberation and well-being of Black and Brown communities through education, self-empowerment, mass-mobilization and the creation of new systems that elevate the next generation of change leaders.”

He even managed to get one of America’s most beloved brands, Nike, to side with his efforts. According to various financial news outlets, Kaepernick’s partnership with Nike for their 30th Anniversary “Just Do it” campaign resulted in $163 million in earned media, a $6 billion brand value increase, and a 31% boost in sales, which includes the $50 t-shirts and $150 jerseys that routinely sell out in hours, with a portion of proceeds going to charity.

But corporate sales numbers aren’t really the ones that matter.

Inside The Numbers

When the dust settled on the 2016 presidential campaign Hillary Clinton received 65,853,516 votes to Donald Trump’s 62,984,825 but lost the election thanks to the Electoral College, a holdover from a bygone era that lifted two of the last three presidents who received fewer actual votes than their opponent (George W. Bush and Donald Trump) into the White House.

Having long outlived its usefulness and practicality as a means to ensure less populous states have a voice in the election outcome, the Electoral College process has shifted focus away from states with the most people and onto a handful of smaller “swing states” whose election-day results typically determine who becomes president.

In 2016 it didn’t matter that Hillary received nearly three million more votes than Trump because Trump received 306 of the possible 538 electoral votes to Hillary’s 232.

Despite the electoral vote total, a closer look at the numbers shows just how close America was to avoiding the four-year national nightmare/embarrassment/sideshow that has been the Trump presidency.

In Pennsylvania, Hillary lost the popular vote 2,970,733 to 2,926,441, a difference of 44,292 votes that resulted in Trump receiving the state’s 20 electoral votes.

In Wisconsin, Hillary lost the popular vote 1,405,284 to 1,382,536, a difference of 22,748 votes that resulted in Trump receiving the state’s 10 electoral votes.

In Michigan, Hillary lost the popular vote 2,279,543 to 2,268,839, a difference of 10,704 votes that resulted in Trump receiving the state’s 16 electoral votes.

Had Hillary Clinton won these three states, she would have won the presidency, leaving “shithole countries” and kids in cages for the next Mad Max movie instead of the front page of The Washington Post.

A Midwest trifecta for Hillary was plausible because it’s not as if these three states are deep Republican strongholds. Barack Obama won all three in 2008 and 2012.

Exit Stage Right and Not College-educated … and White

Exit polling showed that Donald Trump was able to pull off the biggest political upset since Truman defeated Dewey in 1948 by turning out trailer-loads of Rust Belt whites without college degrees, many of whom had never voted or previously voted for the Democratic candidate.

This so-called silent majority of disaffected white people bought into Trump’s sales pitch and promise to save them from the murderous, marauding hordes of Brown people threatening to rush the border and sack their suburban enclaves while he would simultaneously rewind the hands of time, bringing back jobs technology and environmental regulation had long-since shipped off to the Third World and China. And most importantly, he would “Make America Great Again” — a curious phrase that simultaneously causes his white followers to well up with star-spangled pride, while Black people, women, immigrants, the entire LGBT community, Muslims, and many more wonder just what great period he’s referring to because America has only very recently begun to consider treating us relatively civilly.

And while pundits point to some questionable campaign decisions made by Hillary and the underestimation of her unfavorability among the electorate, Trump’s ability to turn out record numbers of white voters without a college degree was the biggest factor in his victory.

However, an argument can be made that the biggest reason that Hillary lost is that she was unable to turn out voters in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Pennsylvania at the same level as Barack Obama.

In fact, Hillary wouldn’t have needed to worry about the white voters that jumped ship to the Republicans had she reached the Obama threshold with Black voters.

Analysis of the polling data shows that Black voters who previously voted for Obama didn’t cast a vote for Trump, instead a large percentage simply didn’t vote at all — a critical mistake.

Turning Out and Falling Off

According to the Pew Research Center, overall Black voter turnout fell from 66.6% in 2012 to 59.6% in 2016. The 7% drop might not seem like much but it represented the largest turnout decline of any racial or ethnic group in 30 years and was the first time in 20 years the Black voter turnout rate declined. 2016’s numbers represented the lowest Black turnout rate since 2000.

Even among Millennials, voter turnout increased for every single racial group except Black Millennials. The general Millennial turnout percentage increased from 46.4% in 2012 to 50.8% in 2016. The Black Millennial turnout decreased from 55% in 2012 to 50.6% in 2016.

A Slate article analyzing the 2016 election results cited a study by researchers from the University of Massachusetts and Indiana University that found the Black voter drop-off was sharpest in states where Trump’s margin of victory was less than 10 points. In Michigan and Wisconsin, Black turnout dropped by more than 12 points.

The combination of rises in white votes combined with declines for Blacks set the table for Trump to claim the electoral victories in those key states and thus win the presidency.

With all else remaining the same, had Black voters turned out in the same numbers like 2012, Hillary would have won Michigan. If white voter turnout remained at its 2012 level instead of going up, Hillary would have won Michigan and its 16 electoral votes.

In Wisconsin, the turnout rate among Black voters dropped 19% from 74% in 2012 to 55% percent in 2016. Turnout for Asians and Latinos also dropped by 6%. Coincidentally, the 2016 presidential election was the first time Wisconsin’s new voter ID requirement was in effect. Critics of the requirement and multiple studies have found that minority voters are less likely to have a driver’s license or another form of ID that satisfies the eligibility requirement. And this could be the reason Black voter turnout was disproportionately low in the state, allowing Trump to be the first Republican since Ronald Reagan to win Wisconsin.

A study conducted by the University of Wisconsin-Madison found that nearly 17,000 potential voters in Milwaukee and Dane counties did not cast votes due to the voter ID requirement put in place by Republican Governor Scott Walker and backed by the majority of Republicans in the State Legislature. Hillary lost Wisconsin and its 10 electoral votes by less than 23,000 votes.

In Pennsylvania, where Black voters comprise 10% of the electorate, the .2% decline in Black voter turnout wasn’t as sharp as it was in other key states, but it was the only turnout decline recorded among the voting groups identified in the Center for American Progress study of 2016 voter trends. Had Black voter turnout matched its 2012 levels, with all other factors remaining the same, Hilary would still have lost the state because of a 4% increase among white voters without a college degree.

The election outcome proved Trump’s effectiveness at weaponizing white grievance to drive up uneducated white turnout — gains that were not offset by a necessary increase in minority voters and were assisted by the low Black turnout, even though even more Blacks were eligible to vote than in 2012.

All-Star Influencer

In terms of the pro-athlete social activist hierarchy, in late 2016, Kaepernick was king. Even four years later he remains 1 or 1A with LeBron James despite their nearly 116 million combined Twitter and Instagram follower gap. While LeBron is famous for his willingness to tackle topics and causes of importance beyond the basketball court, his legendary basketball feats remain the primary draw. With Kaepernick’s NFL days increasingly far behind him, the activism is the draw.

According to sports marketing and data analytics firm Hookit, in the months before the Green Bay game, Kaepernick was gaining approximately 50 followers per day on his Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook accounts.

In two weeks just after his protest and the rationale behind it were revealed, Kaepernick began gaining approximately 18,000 followers a day — an increase of 35,394%.

According to Hookit, from Jan. 1 to Aug. 25, Kaepernick gained 40,372 followers on Twitter. Between August 26 and September 8, he added 98,730 Twitter followers.

In the same two-week period Kaepernick had seven unique social media posts that were liked, commented on, or shared an average of 46,553 times per post — nearly four times more activity than his posts received prior to kneeling.

His mentions were also way up, with Kaepernick’s name tagged or mentioned 235,549 on various platforms during the two weeks — nearly 10 times more mentions than in the previous eight months.

And those numbers have only increased with Kaepernick possessing 3.9 and 2.4 million followers on Instagram and Twitter respectively.

But in November 2016, long before reporters rushed to LeBron for comment on the latest racial injustice, Kaepernick was the man at the center of the storm.

With his profile, his voice, his exposure, his activism, and his traditional and social media presence increasing exponentially in short order, it’s even more baffling that Kaepernick would choose not only to not endorse a candidate but to simply not vote at all.

In hindsight, it is a move that was counterproductive and best and wildly irresponsible at worst.

Woke Dummies and The Big Problem

The so-called Woke community of activists, to whom Kaepernick and Bernie Sanders are probably patron saints, is looking to push American society far to the left concerning all aspects of public policy and social life. The progressive agenda includes defunding police departments, abolishing prisons, criminal justice reform, ending fossil fuel usage, free college, healthcare for all, universal basic income, etc.

Depending on where you stand on the political spectrum, these moves can be viewed as either necessary steps to achieve social equity and justice or pipe dreams from people disconnected with theories related to practical application.

The problem for supporters of these issues aren’t the issues themselves, but the fact that enactment of any of them requires a political solution, and when challenged, a legal outcome favorable to the proponents.

By adopting the Kaepernick, “I’m not going to vote because they’re all the same” position, abstaining progressives ceded critical political and legal ground to the Republicans who, in the past four years, have plowed ahead making moves that will entrench their policy positions as law to be upheld by the conservative judges they’ve helped install — for decades to come.

If we reverse engineer the Republican masterplan, we can start with the U.S. Supreme Court, where President Trump has successfully appointed three justices to life terms. With his latest appointment of Amy Coney Barrett, who replaces liberal stalwart Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the balance of the court has shifted 6-3 in favor of the conservative and ultra-conservative wings.

What this means for progressives like Kaepernick is that any law that seeks to fundamentally change or challenge the status quo or anything not rubber-stamped by a conservative think tank is likely to be struck down by a court packed with justices who believe the words written by slaveholding, sexist, landowning, rich white men in frilly tops, writing with quills, are still the standard by which rulings should be made almost 250 years later.

And again, Supreme Court justices are appointed for life, with most serving well into their 80s. The three Trump-appointed justices, Neil Gorsuch, Brett Kavanaugh, and Amy Coney Barrett are 53, 55, and 48 years old respectively, meaning they will likely be ruling against progressive interests for the next 20-30 years, dooming a generation.

But that presumes the cases even reach the high court. The path to the Supreme Court winds through federal courts where Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell has been hard at work for the past six years working to ensure his insidious plan to put a conservative stranglehold on the federal judiciary came to fruition.

When Donald Trump began his presidency 105 empty federal judgeships had not been filled by President Obama — and that was by Republican design.

When Republicans won back control of the Senate in 2014 they obtained the final say on who got to fill or not fill the federal court vacancies.

In the two years before Republicans took the Senate, nearly 90% of Obama’s nominees were confirmed. After McConnell and the Republicans took over, that rate fell to 28%.

To achieve this result Republican senators used various tactics to either obstruct or delay the confirmation process. A Democrat-sponsored effort in 2013 removed the filibuster, a classic delay tactic often used by the minority party to continue debating an issue to prevent a vote, as it pertained to nominations to executive branch positions and federal judgeships.

This led to the Senate confirming more of Obama’s nominees at a higher rate because they only needed a majority of senators to vote to end debate and move on to the confirmation vote. While Senate Democrats confirmed many of Obama’s nominees, many judgeships were left vacant because a backlog of potential federal judges was created by the Republican stall tactics.

However, in 2014, when Republicans gained control of the Senate, it became clear that the “nuclear option” to eliminate the filibuster was going to come back and bite Democrats in the ass — and boy did it ever.

When McConnell became majority leader confirmation of Obama nominees ground to a near halt, culminating in the prevention of a confirmation hearing for Merrick Garland, Obama’s pick to replace Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia who died in February 2016.

In what would turn out to be perhaps the millennium’s boldest act of hypocrisy, McConnell justified holding no hearings for Garland claiming that in an election year the American people should have the chance to weigh in on the decision by allowing the next president to fill the vacancy — despite the election being nine months away.

Once Trump was elected McConnell shifted his plans for the federal judiciary into high gear and the Senate began moving to fill every vacancy with what Democratic Senate Judiciary Committee member Diane Feinstein called, “young conservative ideologues, many of whom lack basic judicial qualifications.”

From expressed opposition to everything from the Affordable Care Act to Abortion Rights to equal rights for LGBT Americans to environmental regulations to voting rights, and much much more, Trump appointees check nearly all of the boxes the religious right, conservative fringe, and a sizable number of racists have been waiting for generations to see reflected in the federal courts.

And in the off chance some progressive policy enacted into law in a blue state gets challenged and lands before the Supreme Court, McConnell’s machinations will likely result in the court striking it down with the approval of the six conservative justices, including Barrett, who McConnell saw sworn in just days before the 2020 election, forgoing all that stuff he said in 2016 about not confirming nominees in an election year.

Do you Really Care?

It would be one thing if Kaepernick didn’t care about social justice or Black people or right and wrong. But the fact that he clearly cares about those things makes his “I don’t vote, they’re all the same” position even more infuriating because, again, every progressive idea he supports requires a political and legal solution to be put into effect.

And once they’re put in place, they aren’t necessarily safe from political or legal processes.

For example:

The Affordable Care Act — The Supreme Court full of conservative justices will decide the fate of the Affordable Care Act as Republicans seek to strip away the means through which millions of Americans are able to receive health care during a deadly global pandemic.

Police Abuse — The decision to bring criminal charges against police officers who abuse and murder Black people or any people is made by the district attorney, an elected official, or, as in the case of the killing of George Floyd, the state attorney general, also an elected official.

Elimination of Qualified Immunity — Qualified immunity is the doctrine that prevents government officials, police officers in particular, from being held personally liable for misconduct on the job that would get the average person locked up for life or paying a huge monetary settlement. In 1982 the Supreme Court expanded the definition of qualified immunity ( https://supreme.justia.com/cases/federal/us/457/800/ ) and police unions and prosecutors have used it for decades to justify a lack of criminal accountability in scores of cases involving claims of police abuse.

A Reuters investigation examined how qualified immunity has made it extremely difficult to hold police officers accountable for misconduct and abusive behavior.

In one incident, qualified immunity was invoked after a police officer in Utah gave an unarmed man brain damage after slamming him to the ground during a traffic stop.

In 2010 a Houston officer shot Ricardo Salazar-Limon in the back during a traffic stop after claiming he thought the man was reaching for a gun. There was no gun.

Salazar-Limon claimed his constitutional rights were violated and sued the city of Houston and the officer who shot him. In federal court, the defense argued that the officer was protected by qualified immunity, the courts agreed, a summary judgment was entered, and the matter never went before a jury.

When the case reached the Supreme Court, a majority of justices agreed with the granting of qualified immunity to the officer.

In the dissenting opinion Justice Sonia Sotomayor was joined by Ginsburg in stating, “Only Thompson and Salazar-Limon know what happened on that overpass on October 29, 2010 … What is clear is that our legal system does not entrust the resolution of this dispute to a judge faced with competing affidavits. The evenhanded administration of justice does not permit such a shortcut.

“Our failure to correct the error made by the courts below leaves in place a judgment that accepts the word of one party over the word of another. We have not hesitated to summarily reverse courts for wrongly denying officers the protection of qualified immunity in cases involving the use of force. But we rarely intervene where courts wrongly afford officers the benefit of qualified immunity in these same cases.”

Restrictions to the application of qualified immunity would require the Supreme Court to hear a related case and come to a different conclusion, thereby setting a precedent for lower court rulings.

Voting Rights — Efforts to suppress the votes of Black people in particular and people of color generally have deep roots in America. In recent years Republicans across the country have led efforts critics have said are specifically aimed at suppressing or denying the votes of African-Americans. The reduction of the number of polling places in predominantly Black communities leads to hours-long waits to vote. Voter ID laws disproportionately impact minority voters who are statistically less likely to have the necessary documentation. The attempt to reduce the number of ballot drop-off locations in densely populated urban areas disproportionately impacts minority voters. Solutions and corrections to all of these issues require a political or legal solution and sometimes both.

Gerrymandering — Gerrymandering is the process by which politicians draw voting district lines to create districts in which one party is all but guaranteed to hold power indefinitely and doesn’t need to be responsive to anyone other than members of their own party. This has been a crucial tactic for Republicans looking to maintain power even as political shifts show more people moving away from their party. Bringing an end to gerrymandering or even drawing districts in a more logical, straightforward fashion requires a political solution that will almost certainly be challenged in federal court.

Abortion — This is the Holy Grail for conservatives who have been waiting for nearly 50 years to get enough right-leaning justices on the court to reverse the landmark ruling that protected a woman’s right to choose to have an abortion. With a court now full of conservative Catholics, that dream is closer to fruition than ever.

The Census — Conducted once a decade, the U.S. government uses the census to count the number of people living in the country. The census results determine how many representatives each state has in the U.S. House of Representatives, how an estimated $1.5 trillion a year in federal funding is distributed for the next 10 years, and how many electoral college votes each state is allocated. The Trump administration made repeated attempts to undermine the census, most notably by trying to add a citizenship question to the census intended to scare undocumented people away from participating, thus driving down the population totals in key Democratic states such as California and New York, diminishing their political power. Even though COVID-19 and social distancing restrictions made collecting census data more difficult the Trump administration successfully fought to cut the count short. That decision was upheld by the Supreme Court despite the argument that the decision will prevent a fair and accurate count.

Felons Voting — In 2018, Florida voters passed Amendment A that restored voting rights to people convicted of a felony who served their sentences. Many expected that a large portion of the 1.4 million newly eligible voters would vote Democratic but we may never know because the Republican governor and lawmakers quickly passed a law in response to Amendment A requiring people convicted of felonies to fully pay back fines and fees to the courts before they become eligible to vote. Depending on the person, the cost could range from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars — effectively nullifying their voting rights.

The ACLU filed a lawsuit claiming the new law was unconstitutional because it created a financial barrier for people attempting to exercise their right to vote. In 2019 a federal judge sided with the plaintiffs and agreed that the law amounted to a poll tax and was unconstitutional.

But in September 2020, just two months before the presidential election, a federal appeals court overturned the previous ruling that will prevent any former felons who have not paid all of their back fines and fees from voting. Five of the six votes to overturn the ruling came from federal judges appointed to the court by President Trump.

Republicans know that Florida is arguably the most crucial state in their bid to capture the presidency. If Joe Biden or any other Democratic presidential candidate were to win Florida, the handwringing over states like Michigan and Wisconsin goes away because of the Sunshine State’s 29 electoral votes. Hillary Clinton lost Florida by 112,911 votes, a number that seems minuscule if you consider a pool of 1.4 million new voters, a majority of whom may lean Democratic.

Good intentions Meet Reality

While Colin Kaepernick is clearly well-meaning and puts his time, energy, and effort behind the causes he supports, it was unimaginably negligent of him to brag and boldly promote the fact that he does not vote, didn’t intend to vote, and voting doesn't matter because all the candidates were the same.

The margin of victory was so narrow for Donald Trump that there is no reason to think Kaepernick couldn't have moved the needle by choosing to use the soapbox upon which he stood in 2016 and the social media megaphone he wielded to push and encourage his hundreds of thousands of supporters to vote.

Is it improbable to think that the most prominent and popular politically active Black athlete could not have convinced a large number of Black people to cast a vote instead of sitting the election out?

And if you still think voting doesn’t matter, consider this as we continue to live altered lives under the cloud of a deadly global pandemic: In 2009, after multiple recounts and legal challenges, Al Franken became the certified winner of the Minnesota Senate election by 312 votes and became the 60th Democratic senator, a key number that allowed Democrats to end the Republican filibuster and vote to pass the Affordable Care Act aka Obamacare aka the only reason many millions of Americans have healthcare access.

Every single progressive cause Kaepernick advocates for can be broken down to a simple equation:

Progressive Idea + Progressive Activism + Progressive Political Action + Progressive Legal Victories = Progressive Laws that move America closer to the fair, just, and equal society we should all be aspiring to.

Remove one part of the equation and things fall apart.

The idea that voting doesn’t matter and all politicians are the same is a position that is factually wrong, strategically incompetent, and downright imbecilic. That position makes Kaepernick and the abstainers just as responsible for Trump’s 220 judges and the decades of judicial beatings liberals and progressives will face as the MAGA hat-wearing racist Proud Boy.

Do not make the same mistake twice.

Do not be that stupid.

Go vote!

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