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bedbellyandbeyond · 4 years

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Two Moons

(Story Post)

On wolf nights, Nathan still spent his time at APID but now Sydryn had arranged for him to have a family suite, one big enough for the twins to stay in and for Dax to sleep over. His worry about having Dax and the twins with the wolf slowly faded as Dax often recounted to him the majority of what happens when he turned, and it was mostly nothing. The wolf fed the twins regularly when they were hungry, curled up with them when they were tired. For the most part, they all shared the bed, and Dax even got to snuggle in behind his big fluffy boyfriend to get sleep for a decent amount of time. The twins were starting to get into the habit of turning at the same time as Nathan, but it wasn’t a sure thing and Dax would have to take over when they were human, as the wolf, though gentle with them in any form, could not change diapers.

At two months old, Grace and Gabriel were hitting their development milestones on time. Both could hold their heads up while on their tummies. Both showed interest in toy and noises around them, though grabbing wasn’t yet a thing except mostly by accident. As pup and cub however, they were growing differently. Grace was developing ahead of her brother in that regard. As a pup, she was already starting to figure out some crawling techniques, and could be found chewing her dad’s ear sometimes. Gabriel on the other hand, though bigger than her, wasn’t at all mobile and constantly wanted to be feeding, always curled up at the teat. They were both eating and pooping machines, and slept a lot. The majority of the time, Nathan spent inside with the kids, while Dax would go out and get food and any supplies they needed. The pregnancy group still happened on Friday’s and if Nathan couldn’t bring himself out to their meeting room for whatever reason, the group would always swing by his room to check in and hang out. It had been a few weeks since Dari and Fay had their twins, so they were missing, but up until then they’d been in group regularly. Yori was absent a couple of weeks before as his family had gone on vacation over the school break, but he was back again and eager to talk about his trip with anyone who’d listen. Despite not going outside much, it felt like Nathan’s little family was very popular. Even APID E faculty dropped by after class times to see the babies. Because of the frequency of visitors, Nathan felt like he had seen everyone still rather regularly. Apparently not. One afternoon while he was feeding the twins, there was a strong knock on the door. Dax was taking a nap and was apparently exhausted because he didn’t even budge. “Coming.” Nathan sighed and set Grace down in her bassinet since she seemed to be done. He pulled a robe over himself and Gabriel and went to the door. Opening it, he found his dear friend Wano, violet in the face (blue blooded version of red in the face) and glaring him down. “Wano, what’s going on?” Nathan said. “Are you okay?” “Two moons,” Wano said. “Two and almost another moon and you never come to the cafeteria.” “Oh. Um, I’m really sorry…” Nathan said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been a little occupied.” Wano nodded in acknowledgment. “But you still need to eat. You should’ve come eat.” “Dax’s been bringing in food mostly,” Nathan said. “But, I’m sorry Wano. I didn’t realise our mealtimes meant that much to you. But you could’ve always stopped by.” “Am I not? I’m stopping by now,” Wano stated. “You appear healthy. Are you in good health?” “Well, that’s debatable, but mostly, yeah,” Nathan said. “Could be worse.” “Good. And you’re not likely pregnant since humans typically take time off that to raise their young for a bit, yes?” “Well, most do, sure. Maybe not Dari…” “Is that another race?” “No, it’s a friend. Never mind.” “Male?” “Yeah, why?” Wano narrowed his eyes. “What height?” “Oh, I dunno… Pretty short… Why?” Wano nodded approvingly. “Only friend sized.” “Sure?” “Good. So, being as your womb is vacant…” Wano produced a fistful of flowers from behind his back and shoved them towards Nathan. “I’d like to propose a mating partnership.” Nathan blinked and stared at the alien man. “…You want to…marry me?” Wano nodded. “Mostly, interspecies relationship is frowned upon in my culture, however humans are the originators. Your species is a precious part of the universe. To mate with you would strengthen my familial bloodline.” “Um…” Nathan couldn’t tell if it was sweet or insulting. “I’m in a relationship?” “With him?” Wano pointed to Dax still lying in bed. “I could fight him for you. I’d win. He leaves himself easily vulnerable.” “He’s napping. You’re not fighting anyone. That’s not how this works. I chose Dax,” Nathan said. “I’m happy with my choice. And it sounds like you want someone to start a family with, and frankly I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get pregnant again.” “Well, um…” Wano faltered for a moment. “It does not need to be a mating partnership… I hear your species fornicates for pleasure. Our partnership could be that.” “Wano, I’m not available for partnerships,” Nathan said. “Though your proposal has been…flattering.” “Oh.” Wano rubbed his neck. “Are you sure? I’d be a great partner.” Nathan nodded. “I’m sure. Can you accept that?” Wano lifted his chin in acceptance. “Should I go?” “No, no… Well, I mean, you should meet the kids,” Nathan suggested. “Come in.” “Oh…” Wano rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe not. I need to sleep.” “Alright. Well, we’ll catch up later, right?” Nathan said. “Maybe not.” Wano looked down and away. “Oh.” Nathan frowned, realising maybe the rejection had been harder on Wano than he thought. “Listen, I get that this isn’t easy for you, but I still want to be friends if we can be. It just takes time.” “Time is not something I have,” Wano stated. “My appeal hearing is tomorrow.” “To…Tomorrow?” Nathan blanched. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I could’ve helped you prepare!” Wano shrugged uncomfortably and motioned towards the babe in Nathan’s arms. “Right… The birth…” Nathan rubbed Gabriel’s head thinking for a moment. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though. Do you have a counsel?” “My case worker…” Wano stated, though he didn’t appear happy with that. “Well, that’s good. The case workers here are pretty good…” Wano just stayed silent, looking at his feet. Nathan placed a hand on the alien’s shoulder. “…Did you want me to be there?” Wano shook his head. “You shouldn’t want to be. You are a parent now. That is likely more important to you.” “No, well, yes… But I have Dax. He can watch the twins while I’m there. I can be a character witness, if you want that. What is the reasoning behind your removal?” “Criminal record,” Wano said. “It’s stupid… As if punching someone is a crime.” “Yes, it’s called assault,” Nathan said. “It was all the way back from when I got here. A guy looked at me weird. I punched him in the face.” “Yeah, and you don’t see a problem with that?” Nathan asked. “I know now…” Wano crossed his arms. “That kind of staring wouldn’t fly on my planet.” “Well, do you want to go back there or do you want to stay on this planet?” “Of course I want to stay,” Wano huffed. “My planet is hell.” “Then you need to win this appeal,” Nathan said. “And I’m going to help you.” “No, I—” “I know. You don’t want to ask for help. But asking for help doesn’t make you weak,” Nathan said. “In fact, I believe people only grow stronger when we work together. So, come inside.” Nathan took Wano’s arm and brought him into the suite. The alien tensed up nervously, unsure how to react to Nathan’s forceful kindness. Nathan got him to sit down at a table and went to check his calendar. “I don’t have much time since I’m still in wolf cycle, so we’ll try to cram… Dax!” The thunderbird stirred on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hm?” “I’m sorry, but I need you awake,” Nathan said. “We have company.” “Company?” Dax got himself up into a seated position, leaning tiredly on his arms. He locked eyes with Wano. “Oh. You’re the broccoli guy…” “Broccoli?” Wano scrunched his nose. “Why would you associate me with green vegetation?” “Remember, when you met, we were debating about broccoli and cauliflower,” Nathan explained, getting his laptop with one hand while he continued to nurse Gabriel. The cub just couldn’t be satisfied it seemed. “Dax, I need to help Wano with his deportation appeal tomorrow so I need you to watch the kids.” “Right… I can do that,” Dax said, leaning over and checking on Grace in her bassinet. She was sound asleep for now. “Are you going to the thing?” “Yes. Do you think you can watch them then, too?” Nathan asked. “I know you haven’t been alone with them yet…” Dax gave a thumbs up. “We got this.” “Thank you, Dax.” Dax smiled to him and got up to grab his yoga mat. “You do that teacher thing you do so well and help this guy not get deported.” At the sight of the rolled mat, Wano got defensive. “What are you doing with that?” “I figured I’d get some stretching in before Grace wakes up and Gabriel sucks the last drop out of Nathan,” Dax stated. “Stretching?” Wano frowned. “What combat are you…um…anticipating?” “The battle that is parenthood,” Dax stated. “But actually, yoga is really good for your health. You don’t need to be facing combat simply to want to stretch.” “Well, once we win this appeal, you can teach Wano all about it,” Nathan said. “Wano, I don’t know much about immigration law, but what are you most worried about in this appeal?” “…I guess, just…” Wano licked his tongue. “I don’t like being asked many questions with many eyes watching… It makes me mad.” “Okay, I can help with that,” Nathan said. “I’ve had a lot of kids in my class who are nervous speakers and don’t like getting up in front of the class. And it’s even worse when you’re not prepared for questions. But there’s some strategies we can work with.” Wano nodded. “Okay…” “Alright, let’s get started.” “Thank you…”

#lore #Wano #Nathan #Dax #Gabriel #Grace #werewolf #alien #thunderbird #implied mpreg

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saintmariana · 4 years

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Women have plenty to be ashamed of.

Growing up I was conflicted with a duality in which on the one hand there lied my nature and on the other the will of my mother. At the age of 16 my mother was homeless and desperate for anyone to come and save her torment; her mother was an abusive and neglectful heroin addict and it was around this time two of her brothers had sat in prison for having robbed banks (her eldest brother was busting cheeks-though he denies it). It was during such a trying time she had met my father who swept her in his arms that very day moving her to an entirely different state with him. My father was 21 during this time and an illegal immigrant from Mexico as were his siblings and other friends that had come with him, among his friends was Santiago.

My father had drunkenly cheated on my mother one night and immediately admitted it to my mother expressing his profound remorse: my mother responded with cheating on my father with Santiago-my father was heartbroken but understood and forgave her on the grounds she wouldn’t cheat on him again, unfortunately for the naïveté of my father my mother only used his cheating as a means to rationalize her feelings for Santiago which were already present within her before he had even cheated on her; my mother would not only go on to cheat on my father several more times with Santiago but had also professed her love for Santiago and her contempt for my father (note: my father is not one to be pitied, I simply empathize with him); what my mother hadn’t considered was that my father’s older brother was their boss, as in the boss of my father, his siblings and other friends they had immigrated with for a construction company: after hearing of Santiago’s betrayal of my father his brother had fired Santiago. Santiago moved back to Mexico where he shortly died after: my mother was heartbroken-what was she to do? A 16 year old little girl manipulating a man into breeding her, marrying him, and utilizing his resources which he earned with his blood? A little girl having lost who was perhaps her one true love? Or so she “thought”...

The divorce was ruthless, or rather, my mother was ruthless as she threatened to have my father and his siblings deported should he try to fight for custody. My father’s siblings encouraged my father to do what was necessary for us but with the possibility that he could also be deported and very likely never see his two sons again, what was a man to do?

It’s utterly damaging for the ego of any man to be emasculated by any woman especially a 21 year girl you truly believed to have loved and even having married after a hard life of poverty in a small town from Mexico where men are notorious for keeping their women in check. For a man’s ego to be damaged there is only one way he can redeem himself and that is through waging war on whomever dared to damage such an ego; unfortunately for my father he was not back in Mexico, he was in the US where the wrath of man is punishable with the means of prison-it was not only my mother by whom he was emasculated by but the law and order of the republic; so much for freedom of will.

It didn’t end here; my mother was ecstatic about her new found “liberation” going out to clubs and bars with her friends, free of the “religious fanatic” my father was (and it’s true that he is indeed a religious fanatic, a Christian to be exact, but don’t think so highly of my mother for she enforced and lived by the same values and morals as he does, she had merely done so with different spices and fragrances), it was also during this time she especially began drinking heavily, very heavily; there were days when she’d be slumped over her bed bottle hand whilst my father came for my brother and I only to be met with a locked door with no way in except for breaking and entering: my brother and I would beg for the embrace of our father through the window, crying for his affection and play, locking eyes with our father through the window; our mother didn’t care so long as she had us in her grasp, rationalizing her stupidity as her “living her youth,” as if enjoying your youth demands the abandonment of all responsibility.

My mother eventually met another man soon after my father, perhaps even during; he was a black man with a short fuse of a temper against us all, but even more so against my brother and I. This new man of hers would go on to physically beat my brother and I, tossing and dragging us across the room, beating us with a closed fist as he would a grown man; the beatings were so bad he’d send us back to our father with massive bruises all over our bodies, bruises our father would take pictures of in hopes it’d help his case in court-it didn’t. My father was enraged with my mother and demanded she leave the man but she stuck by his side until the end of kindergarten even going so far as to make a father of him-for my little sister.

Throughout the years my mother had done everything she could to erase the memory of all that had happened, laughing it all off as though it was nothing when we’d bring it up with her, often chalking it up to the folly of her youth-except it didn’t end there.

Shortly after my sister’s father she found another man who she married-this one was actually good but he was far bigger than my sister’s father and black all the same-I associated him with my sister’s father and despised him ruthlessly throughout their entire marriage: he was a genuinely caring and affectionate father despite our difference in blood, but it was too late by the time I embraced this of him. Towards the end of their marriage which went on from my first grade year to the summer before starting high school I grew closer with my then stepfather as my mother would often be gone for days off with her friends and her new lover; she had been cheating my step father for a year and a half before they had split apart: he was a younger Indian man whom she helped attain a green card.

This new boyfriend was also a good man at heart, but because he fell for my mother’s malice I despised him and though I wasn’t as ruthless with him as I was with my stepfather I still kept my distance; it was throughout this relationship my mother expressed her love more openly for him... there were nights when she’d shamelessly fuck him hard for all the neighborhood to hear as she moans, groaned, and cried his name, making the entire house shake-our rooms were right next to each other and I ruined all my friendships during this time so there was no friend to turn to then.

There came a day when people were warning the two of them they weren’t right for each other for whatever reason; my mother decided to say fuck them and so we all moved to another over night, back at her home state with her brother in his apartment with his son-his son was okay.

It was during this time I laid conscious witness to the wrath a woman is capable of, most notably my mother; this boyfriend of hers was not only more gentle natured but also an immigrant whom my mother helped attain a green card; my mother’s drinking increased ten fold, puking in the toilet every morning became a routine for them both; fucking for everyone to hear became the norm; my mother was extremely obnoxious I trying to be one of the guys during this time.

Over time my mother had progressed from mocking and humiliating her boyfriend in front of her brother to shaming his religion, his family, and his character (notice how she coaxed him into the distance from his family), to all out punching him in his sleep demanding that he go do the fucking laundry. We heard everything-how she’d slap, scratch, punch, call him a bitch, a faggot, a dumbass man-there were times she’d brag about being able to get any man she wants as men only care for one thing (she was beautiful in her youth but that has long since faded).

Eventually her boyfriend began working and when he had enough money he ditched her completely calling her at the greyhound station at midnight as he awaited his bus; my mother didn’t have a car to go fight him, she was powerless: she resorted to a low growl demanding that he come back to her, that he won’t leave her, that he can’t leave, that they were supposed to get married and have children, that he better get his fucking ass back her NOW!

He stood his ground and I admired him for it.

Throughout the weeks of her grief my mother my mother go through days drunkenly sobbing about wanting to slit her wrists and blaming us for it.

My mother eventually found a job and got an apartment for us all; she went back to drinking and seducing a man from work whom she had written poetry about (we read her diaries).

Eventually there came a day I had gotten kicked out of an alternative school for having slit my wrists; throughout a six month period I spoke with a therapist which she detested as I exposed the truth of her ways to therapist with her there in frustration of following her orders on pretending everything was fine so as to get back into the school but I didn’t care. I knew the school was done with me and I with them.

The following months were tense between us especially being 18 at the time and seemingly doing nothing with my life except for wallowing in self pity (it’s true, I was).

Eventually the tension amounted to us having a massive argument, the neighbors below were terrified and called the police, my mother called her brother to come over and kick my ass, I was arrested for disturbing the peace and after having made the dumb decision to plead not guilty I was finally released after nine from the help of one of the fellow inmates.

The world did not look the same, I felt lost, I felt pathetic, I didn’t know what to do or where to go, what was I doing with my life? Why am I doing this to myself? It was only worse after having walked back home only to find all my belongings were tossed to the wayside in sake of their leisure.

I broke down and contemplated suicide over and over again until I had finally called the hotline for my therapist; they invited me over and I spoke with a couple women who assured me they’d let my therapist know of everything going and if there was any way they could help, I decided I’d be fine and that I’d come in the next day.

My mother and I argued that night: at this point I thought “fuck it, I’m done letting anyone walk over me again: I’m not taking their shit anymore even if it costs me my life.” My mother demanded I leave, I refused, she called her brother to come kick my ass; after sometime she packed up with my sister and left, picking up my brother from his job along the way. After a few hours I heard a knock, I crept my way to the peep hole to find a hand covering my view; I could hear from the creeking in the stairs that there was more than one other person there, most likely their little brother. They’d knock for a few minutes and then kick the door before leaving, doing this throughout the entire night; I sat in the kitchen with all the lights off crying to myself how done I am with them, how ready I am to fight back as hard as I ever have should they break through the door. I knew as soon as I opened the door my uncle would have beat and raped me though not kill me, I knew he’d easily over power me but I wasn’t going down without a fight.

The next day comes and I decide to hell with them all; I leave the city never to look back.

It didn’t help that throughout this time my girlfriend at the time had disappeared due to a bout of her own sorrow, I didn’t ever think she’d come back.

I was far more dominant in my youth especially with a cousin I had fallen in love with (the love was mutual) but by the time I had fallen with my girlfriend whom I would be with for three years from the age of 18 to 20 I had become notably softer in my handling of women-this was compounded when I was slapped with the reality of the real world, the world I had been sheltered from all my life, for much of it anyway.

I was afraid of falling behind so I worked the first job I could at some restaurant dwelling in petty quarrels.

I believed the only way to survive was conforming to their ways, your ways, the way of the corporate state; I was lost and only knew I had too much potential to squander but no understanding in how to guide it.

The relationship between myself and my then girlfriend was intimate and affectionate; she eventually came back and I forgave her unconditionally; we were a long distance couple and after a couple years of saving (piss poor spending habits on my behalf) I finally journey across the country to meet with her for the first and it was more amazing than I anticipated it could be; meeting her truly cemented in me the belief (or the knowledge) that a soulmate truly does exist, that some things truly are meant to be.

Later that year it turns out she’s turned out (she’s gay); it wasn’t a revelation she was willing to share with me openly; she was still processing her sexuality (she’s lived in repression which was only compounded with her eating disorder, purging), but I wanted answers so I coaxed it out of her; she didn’t cheat on me but she had a crush which she em felt excruciating guilt for as her crush was her brother’s girlfriend. I was understanding and forgiving but even so I was conflicted with feelings of cuckoldry and inadequacy as I felt a failure of a man for having been so naive as to have turned a blind eye to many of the signs which had vied for my attention before (she was never into having sex with me, always only saw me as cute, wasn’t really attracted to other men, tried getting me to break up with her after expressing remorse for having flirted with another man, and reacted with hot excitement after showing her a picture of the cousin I had fallen in love with.)

I’ve regretted it ever since but I pushed her away for the sake of my pride.

She truly did love me, she truly was a lover in spirit and I’ve ruined it.

I had reached out to her several months later with a letter but she never responded; I don’t blame her, she deserves more than a flimsy-hurried letter.

I believed that pushing her away in favor of my family was what I needed; I believed that I could heal my family, that could make us whole, that I could help us all become more than what we are, that we can overcome this together as a family, but I was wrong, I was so wrong.

I played the forgiving role, sweeping everything under the rug with them at first; but that didn’t sit well with me. I didn’t want any of us walking on egg shells around each other and I certainly didn’t want us living in denial of all that had happened.

There came a day when I wanted to express my rage and I wanted them to listen; my mother was defensive and my father was offended; I decided to hell with them both and so it’s been that ever since.

I know not every woman is like this, but what are the odds in finding another woman-my “ideal” woman? It is foolish to impose ideals upon others and especially myself, ideals are for the naive. Much of the women who could be considered my type are usually in the mind of a safe, corporate life with a salary and college education: I despise the corporate state and especially the education system which is no place for knowledge but only doctrines: my passions and ambitions are too barbarous for these women and the odds of finding someone like my last girlfriend are quite slim, she truly was exceptional (there’s also the fact that gay and straight women are fundamentally different, it’s a difference I find shocking and painful but true nevertheless, straight women are far more shallow than the gays); I’ve tried to date around, I’ve met and gotten to know people-the amount of people only interested in casual sex is mighty disheartening as I very much desire a strong and committed relationship in which we grow with each other but it becomes ever more clear that the only thing straight women care for is their submission to power: they truly do not care for anything else of a man unless he’s able to dominate them and make them his slut: in every woman is a slave and a tyrant; give her liberty and she will tyrannize you; make her submit and she is yours. The only women who claim to admire depth in a man only do so because the man in question is in truth just an illusion of a fever dream as he’s yet to embrace his own sacred masculinity-those “men” they desire are no men at all but the Frankensteins of a civilization in decay.

I will not live as a lecher as I value the soil and the body lest I enable and contribute to the degeneracy.

I’ve decided to embrace my chastity; I don’t know if the key will ever be found by another, another worthy of the key, perhaps I will, perhaps I won’t, but I know the path of degeneracy is no path for me; but what of the men? Will they not look down upon me? I will force my will upon them.

#spirituality #nietzsche #nietzche quotes #mommy #mommyhood #mommylove #mommasboy #wisdom #philosophy #memorial #reprise #revenge #vengeful #powerpoint #powerfood

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lhs3020b · 5 years

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Post Mortem

I promised some thoughts on the nightmarish debacle that has happened. Here they are.

TL;DR I am scathing about everything. Everyone who should have helped us, failed.

It's the morning after. They've won. Continuity Remain is dead; there isn't going to be any second referendum and Article 50 won't be revoked. You cannot imagine how I feel right now, typing those words. However, I have never sought to deny reality (however lovely denial might be) and reality is what it is. We've lost a referendum and two general elections; we're finished. There is no come-back from this. The country has made a sick, twisted, greedy, myopic and stupid decision - but that's the decision it's made. I have nothing good to say for what happened, except that it did happen.

Well, let's look at the one tiny silver lining: since the ship has now sailed, I can indulge my deep, seething pool of vitriol for our collection of useless opposition parties. I'd held back previously because I didn't want to add to the circular firing squad. But they've all shot each other now and the corpses have largely stopped twitching. So off we go. (Before we start, I won't be writing about CUK/TiG/Change-UK, because they were just annoying, and I can't be arsed. I think we've all spent enough time on that shower of idiots.)

Here's the core reason for why I'm so angry: all this was completely avoidable. The media will, of course, spin BoJo's victory as a paragonic triumph of political conservatism. Like that infamous Pravda article from the 30s, on the Soviet constitution, they'll fawn over BoJo and declare him a visionary and a victor, a veritable genius of the ages, dripping with lyricism and wit. He isn't. He's an over-promoted buffoon who lucked into the top office due to the self-destruction of his inept predecessor, aided and abetted by a lying and sycophantic media - and, by a collection of opposition parties whose sole interest was in fighting each other.

Here we have the real core problem. The people on our side only switch on for fighting each other. There's little sign that they actually really care about Brexit, or the wider state of the UK. But pursuing partisan vendettas against each other? Wheeeeeeeeeee!

Let's think back to the summer, when BoJo was faced with stalling polls and a hung parliament. He could have been ousted then - but, of course, the Lib Dems were adamant that they couldn't countenance the idea of Mr Corbyn as Prime Minister. They'd had this tendency for a while - it's not new - but it accelerated and was nurtured under Jo Swinson.

When she was elected as leader I was initially a bit sympathetic - it seemed reasonable to give her a chance. Unfortunately, it turned out that she might be the most rightwing leader they've ever had - I actually suspect now that she might be to the right of Clegg. And she went and turbocharged all of their most self-destructive tendencies. I think what she thought she was doing was clawing Tory Remainers off of the Tories. This ran into two problems; 1) there weren't that many Tory Remainers to begin with and b) most of them are more Tory than they are Remain. So they mostly stayed put, and they few who did leave (thank you, to those of you that did) just weren't enough. Meanwhile, the hard-right tilt scared off the Lib Dem's left-leaning supporters.

A while back I predicted they'd lose seats at this election; I'm sad to have been proved right. I am, however, grimly-amused that Swinson herself lost her seat. The other problem with Swinson's rampany anti-Corbynism was that it partially demobilised continuity!Remain. A lot of people sensed that she was more anti-Corbyn than anti-Brexit; that also implied no plausible chance of an anti-Brexit coalition. Hoenstly, given how overt and personal the vitriol between her and Corbyn got, it's hard to see how it could ever have worked. And there's no point voting for something that you know is impossible. I do wonder if maybe this switched some left-leaning people off, or perhaps even sent a few ditherers back to the Tories (under the assumption that any sort of government is better than no government, I suppose).

As for the Lib Dem campaign, it was a mess. At one point their leader went on air to deny killing squirrels (yes, seriously, this actually happened). She got all excited about thermonuclear genocide at one point, because that's not at all weird and creepy, amirite?! Then there was the bizzarity that was "skills wallets" (don't ask - basically, the sort of policy abortion that happens when a collection of wonks are locked in a room with a boxed set of the West Wing and too much cocaine).

[OK, I'll expand this one. Briefly, skills wallets were a weird continuing-adult-education idea, where you'd have a pot of money that you could access at certain ages, apparently to take some kind of training or re-education or something. Why the ages in question, why that amount of money, and why not just make adult-ed free at the point of use, were never really explained. Then there was the can of worms that was additional voluntary contributions - what I took away from this was it was the adult-ed version of pensions auto-enrollment. I spent the last four years fighting a corrupt auto-enrollment fund, so I have strong feelings here!]

As for general themes, really, the LD campaign didn't have one. There was a lot of "Corbyn, THE MONSTER, the monster, Corbyn!". And, kind of oddly, there wasn't actually that much about Brexit. It actually didn't figure very strongly in their campaign. You came away from watching it all with a) a bad taste in your mouth and b) a nagging feeling that these people didn't know what they were doing.

To be fair to them, their vote share did go up, a bit - from 7.4% in 2017 to 11.4% yesterday. Which is, uh, not exactly dizzying. And it seems to have happened in all the wrong places, so they still managed to lose seats overall.

OK, we've gawped at the piss-stained ashes of the old Liberal Party, lying in state where some eggregious family-member has dumped them, on a roadside verge in the middle of nowhere. (Perhaps some enterprising squirrel has buried a nut amongst them.) Let's move onto the other vast, soul-sucking black hole of despair, also know as the Labour and Co-operative Party.

Oh dear god. The Labour Party.

The Labour Party is Britain's perennial second party, and nothing that happened last night challenged its second-place status. Their vote share dropped by 7.8 percentage points on 2017; this is what produced the Tory landslide, essentially. The Tory vote went up a little, by about 1 point, but otherwise stayed largely flat on 2017. This time, though, Labour collapsed. They lost a swathe of seats across the country, including places like Bolsover and Blyth Valley, which were previously rock-solid.

What went wrong? Everything. Basically, the stars aligned against us, in every single way.

First of all, Labour's campaign was dogged by the antisemitism scandal. And you know what? It was bloody well right that it did. The leadership dealt with antisemitism by ... doing nothing. Anyone who tried to raise the issue instead would get "Corbyn outriders" dumping on them on Twitter. Apparently we're suddenly not allowed to be concerned about racism on the Left anymore? Frankly, fuck that.

What they should have done was a quick-and-brutal party purge, perhaps early in 2018, when there was still time. Take some initiative, get control of the narrative again, and get rid of people who are only going to shit all over your campaign. But, uh, no. That didn't happen. I'll note that the Chris Williamson show in particular went on far, far longer than it should have.

Then we come to Brexit itself. Corbyn spent three years equivocating on the issue. OK, I'll allow that in hindsight, perhaps strategic ambiguity made some sense back in 2017 (though note that they still lost that election too). It didn't by 2019. But Corbyn was still trying to stand in the middle of the road as late as the summer - and by doing so inadvertently opened up political space for the (brief) Lib Dem revival, which in turn shunted Labour onto the defensive. And as I believe Paddy Ashdown once said, if you stand in the middle of the road, you get hit by traffic.

Eventually, the Labour leadership reluctantly adopted a second referendum position, but by then the damage was done. Basically, Corbyn had convinced Leavers that he was a Remainer, and Remainers that he was a Leaver. Labour appears to have lost votes about evenly across both Remain/Leave areas(!). In a way, he actually did unite the country - just against him. Ooops.

The rest of Labour's prospectus was a mess this year. Home Office reform was de-emphasized (arbitrary deportation by the Home Office is a huge concern amongst ethnic minorities). Drugs-law reform seems to have fallen off the agenda. There was no obvious theme to the campaign - surprising given that 2017's "For the Many" theme did cut across. Instead the "offer", such as it was, appeared to be a largely-incoherent grab-bag of spending promises, some of them with very large headline numbers. (The £58 billion for the WASPI pensions thing stands out there.) A lot of people simply didn't believe the country could afford it. You don't vote for things that you fear will bankrupt you.

Also, in a way, there's a parallel to the skills wallets thing here. Labour would have been better off, I think, just doing something straightforward like saying, "If elected we'll raise disability, sickness and unemployment benefits by £x per week, and we'll get rid of the ATOS fit-for-work assesments". It would have the advantages of simplicity, clarity and a clear political theme. Instead we got this weird fiscal machine that would produce some of those effects, except via a complicated multi-part kludge (which probably wouldn't even work properly anyway). I don't know how this came about; presumably it was an after-effect of one of the party's unending internal power-struggles.

Corbyn himself is a controversial figure, from his past associations with the IRA (more vague than the press would have you believe, but still a drag on the doorstep) to the perception of socialist extremism. Again, let me note that the "but he's a Communist, because that starts with 'C' too!" stuff is disingenuous, but this perception exists, and the Party have not found any apparent way to challenge it. Honestly? If your candidate is a ship that's holed below the waterline, yes it is horribly-unfair and all the rest of it, but you do need to run someone else. (I see no point softening that punch ; while Corbyn's been leader, the whole UK has voted 4 times, at 2 general elections, 1 referendum and 1 EU Parliament election. Every time, Labour has bombed. It's hard not to see a pattern here.)

Finally, the Labour Party itself has failed to ever re-unite. It's effectively two political parties in one - or possibly three, depending on how you want to look at Momentum. On a fair day with a strong wind, the Parliamentary portion sometimes manages to move just-about-consistently, but nothing else seems to have that behaviour. Honestly I suspect a lot of people's real fear about a Labour government is not that it would be a socialist tyranny, but rather that it would implode within about six months. Labour has lost its way amongst a storm of factional infighting. To be fair to Corbyn, this isn't new. Ed Milliband's desperate tenure was derailed by internal struggles. Even the 1997-2010 period had the ongoing squabbles between Brownites and Blairites (remember them?).

So yeah, Labour's campaign was an absolute shambles this year, and the whole country is suffering now for that.

Lastly, let's have a quick look at the Green Party. Where were they this year? With Extinction Rebellion making headlines, the Amazon burning, Australia on fire and weather records being smashed everywhere - remember that day when we had summer back in February? - it should have been the Greens' year. Environmental concerns are going up in salience - people are starting to get genuinely worried. And, uh, where were they? I can't recall hearing a single peep from the Green Party during the election. Whatever it was they were doing, it seems to have completely failed to capitalise on the moment. Perhaps they should have been a bit more visible.

The only people who come out of this with any credit are the SNP. I haven't heard anything teeth-grinding about them - though, that might just be because I live in southern England.

Oh, and let's take a final kick in the teeth, shall we? If you add up the shares of the votes received by pro-second-referendum parties ... guess what it comes to? Yup: 52%, versus 48% for the pro-Brexit parties. 52/48 - aaaaargh! Yet, the 48% had a narrative that kept their vote all in one place, so they won an absolute majority at Westminster. Ours got scattered to the four winds by several separate inept campaigns and several useless party leaders. Had there been a second referendum, we could have won it. But we never got the chance, because everyone supposedly on our side were completely, perfectly, useless.

Sigh :(

#UK internal politics #diary of a disaster #We're surrounded by idiots

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disappearinginq · 4 years

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I have no kitten and this is unacceptable! (also, I can't add pics here, but that's a seconary issue lol) As to the head canon, Higgins and I have so much in common (sadly I have never worked for MI6, but in terms of our attitudes and approach to people and stuff) and, if I were in her position, I would, randomly and for no reason whatsoever, feel insecure in my place within the family unit the guys have built. So I figured she would be insecure at points too, and that, eventually, one of the

(2/4) guys would call her their sister, just like they call each other brother. And when T.C. said he was marrying her for his family I thought he meant Magnum. Like, this chick is willing to die for him, and he's not always great at protecting his own life (in a good way, coz, you know, he puts it on the line for other people) so he figured she's good to keep around. But then he went and said it was to keep their sister with them and goddamnit! He was so casual about it too, like it's something that

(3/4)

has been said before? And now I hate the storyline but I like my dumbass head canon so now I'm stuck liking what I got but hating the reason! URGH! Stupid freaking writers.

(4/4)

Damn, I got lost sending multiple messages. Having them call her sister (was not expecting it this early? But maybe the whole helping with Hannah, waterboarding, triple frontier thing is being taken into account by the guys?) would be a way of addressing her insecurity without having to make it a thing. So we wouldn't have her ever say anything and the guys wouldn't do it just make her feel better, it would just naturally happen. And now it has. Over this bullshit! Such mixed feelings lol

Hey, I will accept stock photos of British people hugging kittens - though valid point about the not being to attach pictures. Hmm. I suppose I could just Google it, but where’s the fun in that? Although, that was how I found out that Jay Hernandez was a cat person...TO GOOGLE. (or you could just join us on this trashfire called Tumblr ;-D )

To the headcanon/sister thing - I would swear to you TC has said that before, but you know what, he might be the only one who has actually made overt comments about including her. Like he was the one who brought her in for group hug at the end of season 1, he’s called her Higgy Baby (which admittedly is a throwback to the original), and refers to her as being part of the group.

And yes - I agree - having headcanon confirmed in less than optimal story lines is a pain, because on the one hand: I WIN. And on the other..THIS IS A HOLLOW VICTORY. I was ecstatic when TC’s ex-fiance (girlfriend?) showed up and she said how everyone thought they were dead when they went missing, because HUZZAH. HUGE HEAD CANON CONFIRMED. But at the same time, it was the episode where they introduced the fake-marriage garbage. And like...I still don’t know how anybody is supposed to like this story line. It makes less sense the longer it goes on - so for adding drama, it mostly just adds “...dude, wtf?” Sure, that’s a type of mystery, but not really the one I’m looking for.

And..actually, you know a way that they could’ve done this and it not be garbage? Thomas propose it, and Higgins say no. And the more he pesters her about it, she still says no, until finally she explains that they reason why she doesn’t want to get married for a green card is because she couldn’t ask a friend to do that - even if they were offering. And that she would rather go back to England to get it sorted than to drag others into her own problems, because even though they were okay with breaking the law to help her, she wasn’t. Whether she confesses to the guys or to Kumu (who she seems to be slightly more okay with admitting things to), I don’t care, but letting your supposed friends get in trouble to help you out sounds suspiciously like what Hannah did.

And like..it’s not a slap on the wrist, either. Marriage fraud is a serious federal crime. If you get caught, you don’t get your green card/visa back - ever. And that’s just for Higgins.

“Any individual who knowingly enters into a marriage for the purpose of evading any provision of the immigration laws shall be imprisoned for not more than five years, or fined not more than $250,000, or both.The above comes from Section 275(c) of the Immigration and Nationality Act (I.N.A.), or 8 U.S.C. Section 1325.“

and for the guys:

“Penalties Faced by the U.S. Citizen or Lawful Permanent Resident Spousal Petitioner

The U.S. spouse could face substantial fines and even jail time if convicted of the crime of committing marriage fraud.

The most severe penalties are usually applied to those who engage in conspiracy operations, such as systematically arranging fraudulent marriage. But that doesn’t mean that an individual who enters into a fraudulent marriage won’t also be punished.

If the spouse is only a U.S. permanent resident, not a citizen, he or she might be placed into removal proceedings and ultimately deported.”

Katsumoto is right - they investigate for years. I have a friend who got married to a man who was born in Korea, but moved to the US when he was like...2, and at first, they were going to go through the citizenship application rather than marriage application, until they saw how expensive it was, no guarantee that they would accept it on the first try, and they would still be under watch from DHS for the same amount of time - which was ten years. And if you turn around and get it annulled, then guess what, you’re still going to jail.

Urgh. Sorry. This was about your head canon being accepted and kittens. Not US Immigration law. Ignore my rant. Be appeased with this picture of Eddie Redmayne and a kitten instead (and you know what? No British person looks happy with a cat, they just look moody or put upon. I don’t know that I believe you about kittens).

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nemenalya · 5 years

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I finally found enough fitting names to be able to post the great overview of my Elder Scrolls characters and their family. The earlier generations up to my Vestige will be included in a names only form at some point. Anyways, this means that I will now very happily talk about the Llares clan at every opportunity.

Short descriptions of everyone (in order of birth for simplicity’s sake) under the cut because this will be a looong post (like almost three thousand words long):

Tavynu Llares

Grew up in Cheydinhal as the only child of her parents but later settled in Bruma after having joined and studied under the Mages´ Guild. Though she is born into minor Telvanni nobility she never considered going to Morrowind or actually getting involved in House business and much preferred researching in relative anonymity. She studies and teaches alchemy and has a certain interest in alteration but generally doesn´t employ too much magic into her daily life (not for lack of skill, she just doesn´t care enough). Despite having grown up among Men she still tries to teach her children about Dunmeri culture, language and religion. More often than not she leaves that role to her ancestors or her Morrowind-born husband, who she feels are much more suited to the task. She found her tragically early end during the Oblivion crisis and was buried in Bruma by her husband.

Delas Sareni

The youngest son of the side-branch of a minor noble family loosely associated with House Indoril; in other words an absolute nobody. With little talent or love for either fighting or statecraft he turned to the arts and ended up becoming a quite talented painter with a focus on traditional Dunmeri styles and religious motifs. He met his future wife at a festival for one of the Tribunal high holidays and ended up moving from Mournhold out onto the countryside to live with her. Some years later, he was rather surprisingly commissioned by a Dres trader to paint a mural in his Cyrodiilic estate and the pair, together with their young son moved to the Imperial City, where he grew to some fame among the Dunmeri diaspora.

Arvis Semoran

Grew up on the mainland coast of the Inner Sea without any special affiliation to the Great Houses. He joined a group of traveling merchants that first stuck to selling wares in different parts of Morrowind but came to realize that there was good money in selling their (not always legally exported) goods in other provinces. One time, the group did try to make it to the far west of the continent but the additional effort and dangers made going beyond Cyrodiil rather risky and unprofitable. After almost three decades on the road he met his wife when the group got unexpectedly stuck in Bruma over the winter. While he did leave he decided to trust his feelings and leave the merchant band when they next stopped in Bruma. His tries at being a stationary merchant worked only somewhat well, which gave him time to be the main caretaker of his and Tavynu´s twin children. Very early in the fourth era, after the death of his wife, he retired to relative anonymity in Morrowind and only kept sporadic contact with the twins as he tied to stay well away from his daughter´s political machinations.

Nalu Relyn

A retainer of House Dres who grew up on the plains of Deshaan, she became the personal guard and later trusted agent of a young Dres noble. As a very devout person she went on a number of pilgrimages over the years, including one to Mournhold where she met her Indoril husband. She still stayed loyal to her original House and convinced Delas to move back to the countryside with her as the cities unsettled her. Many years later her lord sent her to Cyrodiil to spy in and interfere with the business of some Hlaalu merchants that he had gotten into conflict with before. It was also him who arranged for her husband to be contracted to the Imperial City as a cover story. Nalu absolutely hated having to raise her son outside of Morrowind but was still ready to put her House´s needs first. She went back to Morrowind after the Oblivion crisis and the Red Year to help her much decimated House. While never a great fan of the Empire she truly put all her skills into the independence movement after her son´s death.

Mervyn Sareni

Born in southern Deshaan he moved to the Imperial City with his family at age seven. He is raised in a very conservative Dunmeri way and frequently comes into arguments with people from other races, especially as he grew older and started hanging out in shady bars with other young Dunmer. Those arguments often turned into fights and one night he half-drunkenly stabbed someone over a perceived sleight. His mother helped him come to terms with it but the murder left him cautious and even more avoidant of the guards. When they finally did arrest and deport him it is for continuous disturbance of the peace as the guards never bothered to investigate the death of a known drunkard. Once in Morrowind he continued getting into trouble and spentmost of his first weeks in run-down cornerclubs before managing to fall in with the Morag Tong during one of his clearer moments. Working for the guild helped break the monotony and sharpens his skills while keeping him out of the worst of troubles. He was good at the work but it made him restless and he only found peace when he got involved with the Temple and realized that he is capable of actively helping his Dunmeri brethren. He worked his way up in both organizations, managing to reconcile the two moral systems while firmly keeping to the Tribunal, the religion he was raised with. His beliefs were tested when he met Aluri, by then the rising star of House Telvanni, and over time learned about her involvement in the Nerevarine prophecy. He trusted her enough to try and keep both the Temple and the Tong off of her as well as possible, something that he continued to do during her rule as Hortator. The two of them married about a decade later and he stayed with her in Tel Uvirith and later Port Telvannis. Up until his death he never truly got used to her friendship with Vivec though, or the fact that his god lived with them.

Telvanni Aluri Llares

The older Llares twin; rose to power as the Great Hortator and Nerevarine. Despite growing up in Bruma, the twins were raised with the culture and stories of their people and often longed to see the country of their ancestors. Aluri always had more magical talent than common sense and already at a very young age grew frustrated with the slow progress she made studying under her mother’s friends in the Mages’ Guild. Remembering the stories her ancestors would tell them she convinced her brother to run off to Morrowind to find better tutelage with their House or in their god’s city. The two actually got somewhat far before their father managed to track down the trading caravan they had hitched a ride on. Afterwards, her family tried to give her greater access to the libraries and resources of the Guild, even though they stayed very concerned for her safety. On her visits to the Arcane University with her mother Aluri fell into a habit of borrowing complicated tomes for an indefinite amount of time. It was this behaviour that eventually saw her arrested by the guards, with the rest being history. Once thrown into the situation on Vvardenfell she first sought out the familiar camaraderie of the Mages’ Guild before realizing that she needed local allies. Hailing from the distant branch of a mainland Telvanni family she had little support in her House at first but she relished in working her way to the top. The prophecy always was more of a side note for her, an excuse to go digging around in ancient ruins and obscure cultures, which she could write home to her brother about to convince him to join her. Despite the power she gained from it she never forgave the Blades for trying to manipulate her and later took a decidedly anti-Imperial stance. After the events of the prophecy had played out she took a background role in Dunmeri politics with the actual power resting in the hands of the Grand Council. She served more as a figurehead and keeper of the law between Houses, which gave her enough time to focus on her studies and those duties of a Telvanni councillor that she couldn´t delegate to her Mouth.

Selin Llares

The younger twin and the one who actually enabled Aluri to live her crazy life. He had little interest in material possessions or combat magic and instead spent his time studying obscure histories. When his sister invited him to Morrowind he settled in Tel Uvirith with her and focused his studies on Dwemeri texts and artefacts that she brought him from her travels. In a way she kept him in a golden cage, always protective of him and listening to his opinions but at the same time saddling him with duties and projects that would keep him from exploring the island himself. His existence added some further confusion to the entire prophecy as the twins often said that they shared one soul, which threw those who actually believed Aluri to be Nerevar incarnate into wild speculations about his role in the prophecy and resulted in some historical inaccuracies between reports. Selin served as his sister’s representative and spokesperson when she was away, basically running the day-to-day affairs of the tower, and later raised both his nieces almost on his own with occasional help from Alouri’s close friends.

Quarminir

The middle child of an Altmeri merchant family with a culturally somewhat frowned upon drive to make their way up into the higher ranks of Summerset society. He received a thorough education and has some skill in the magical arts but much prefers to spend his time talking philosophy, diplomacy or just talking in general. Once he was more than halfway into his second century he finally found an excuse to travel out of the Dominion territories, ostensibly to look for new trading opportunities for his family. After spending some years in different provinces he found perhaps the most unfortunate time to visit Skyrim and his old friend Ondolemar in Markarth. He did however end up meeting his future wife when she barged in on one of their conversations. Despite her not being an Altmer her was quite enamoured and glad to meet her again at a celebration in the Thalmor embassy. He greatly enjoyed the feeling of freedom he had so far from home, even though he sometimes missed the comforts of the Isles or feared for his family’s reputation, and ended up marrying Mehresa and staying with her. Afterwards, he spent his time building connections and writing about both the current political situation and lighter topics, such as children’s tales or the differences between Altmeri and Dunmeri family structures.

Telvanni Mehresa Llares

The daughter of powerful people she mostly grew up in Port Telvannis but often travelled to Blacklight and other cities with her mother. After she lost her father before age ten her uncle stepped in and raised her, while her mother grew more distant and threw herself into her political duties. Nonetheless, and possibly out of guilt over her absence, her mother made sure that she always had skilled teachers to give her a thorough education on anything she showed interest in, including strategy, geography, magic and different languages. She ran into the Imperial ambush and her own prophecy as the last Dragonborn after visiting her grandmother’s grave in Bruma and deciding to take the scenic route through Skyrim back to Morrowind. Deciding that it was time for her to actually build a life for herself away from the direct influence of her family she started making her case at different courts to prove her worth and gain her own allies. She tried to stay away from the civil war as she neither liked the Stormcloak’s view nor wanted to help the Empire that they had just thrown out of her home province. Instead, she spent a lot of time researching with the College or travelling the land to find possible ways to control and grow her Thu’um. When the Blades got in her way she gladly continued her mother’s feud with them and sold them out to the Thalmor, a decision that lead to her meeting her future husband. For the time being she enjoyed her life in southern Skyrim where she has built something of a Dunmeri commune as encouragement for her people to finally help themselves instead of lamenting about the Nords. Nonetheless, after having to strike more than one deal with Hermaeus Mora she always feared that one day she would give in to the thrall of knowledge and leave behind her family to get lost in the depths of Apocrypha.

Telvanni Khesra Llares

Her birth was surrounded by controversy, especially as her mother refused to share the identity of her father with anyone beyond her closest family. She got along very well with her half-sister Mehresa, despite their age difference of about eighty years, and would have gladly accompanied her to Bruma and Skyrim if she hadn´t just started her apprenticeship. Finding a master among the highest ranks of House Telvanni had been easy enough for her at the end due to both her natural talent and her mother’s influence, but it came at the price of the ostensible freedom her sister enjoyed. Still,Khesra was always driven by the desire to make her way to the top of their House and the promises of power and longevity that came with that path, and was more than willing to make those sacrifices. And even though she made a point of showing that she could make it by her own cunning and skills only, she recognized that she shouldn’t disregard her family’s influence and expertise. So she made it a point to meet up with her family before or during her travels, which basically meant whenever her master decided to send her out to do research or run errands for him.

Areyne Llares

The eldest and most Altmeri looking out of her sisters she unsettled her paternal grandparents the most but was gladly accepted by her mother’s family. She loved spending her time at Lake Ilinalta during her youth and later developed a great interest in the sea and sailing. When her family realised this they sent her to her maternal grandmother who first organized for her to join a crew to learn under and then helped her acquire a ship of her own. Using her mixed heritage to her advantage as far as possible, she started trading luxury goods with the Isles, both through her grandparents and on her own. With her colourful stories and exotic looks she enjoyed the attention of young Altmer ladies unhappy with their strict societal norms, which didn’t exactly endear her to their families.

Sedris Llares

The unruly middle child of the family she always had a certain desire to get around and travel. As a compromise, her mother convinced her to stay at home at least until she developed some skills in weapons and magic to defend herself, and even afterwards often asked her to not leave entirely alone. She went and traversed first Skyrim and then Morrowind before joining a mercenary band for a little while. After a few years she started chafing under their commander and simply left one night when they were between contracts. When she arrived back at her family’s home, she had a long discussion with her mother and decided to go and find some inner peace in meditation with the dragons, before she eventually gave up and ran away again to make her way to the west.

Telvanni Vesryn Llares

Currently the youngest member of her clan she was also the only one of the three to show any interest in being an active and ranking member of their House. Gifted with magical talent, a boundless curiosity and most importantly a healthy appreciation of safety measures she managed to learn a lot from accompanying her mother to the College during her youth. Before long and with her sisters already on their way to build their own lives she begged to be allowed to go and study under her grandmother in Port Telvannis. The two quickly worked out that she would later have to find another master for an actual apprenticeship but still enjoyed working together. She also developed a very close relationship to her aunt who introduced her to some of the finer details of life among the Telvanni. Some of her family members were a bit disappointed when she showed great interest in becoming a mycologist instead of striving for greater power but most just accepted it as youthful folly and provided reserved support while trying to nudge her into other fields.

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desroundtree · 5 years

Text

This Administration

It is interesting to watch what we have become under this presidency. The modernity of this country seems to slip from our grasp, little by little, then all at the same time. We seem to be fighting things that we never thought we would have to again, rights that we have earned are up for grabs in a fight no normal person feels like they could win. From a mental health standpoint, it is exhausting and sometimes anxiety-inducing. Never mind the other mental health issues people are battling because of not only the things inside them but the things outside them too.

We are sitting in a place which feels like waiting, for every bit of breaking news that seems to attack the citizens of this country, as well as the people trying to come here for a break from what seems like the worst things that could ever happen to them, but just beyond those gates exists a different kind of hell.

Americans struggle to battle some of the worst things we have seen in a long time. The things some of us have experienced is mind-blowing. Things that were once forced to be kept in the dark have been given a spotlight, and every ugly face grins into it. Confederate flags fly in the wind with pride. Bumper stickers in support of a man who doesn’t believe in a woman’s right to choose, in the right to seek asylum, in the responsibility to pay taxes, in common sense gun laws, or even in the Constitution. I think it is hard to swallow seeing people pledging love for America but not what America stands for, or did stand for at one time. We have taken giant leaps backward, and it seems like it’s ok to some but damning to most. The part that feels the worst is the helplessness in it all, and the allowance of fear and anger to enter our daily lives.

I feel sorry for what our children are seeing every day, what they have experienced already at such young ages. The drills that they have been taught to survive a day in school if something horrible happens, and how we as parents have lost the ability to feel like we can protect our children, and like school is a safe place to be. They believed that for a long time, and so did we. Now, we worry about their lives more than we already had to.

My daughter already knows more about loss than any child should. Her friends have lost their grandparents, some have lost their parents to these horrible laws that have deported them and sent them back to countries that persecute them, abuse them and violate their human rights. Even as people seek a path to legal citizenship, that is still not enough.

She knows about children being torn from their parent's arms and sleeping in cages. Not because I told her (a soft talk was given but worrying a child that already exhibits anxious tendencies is not something any parent wants to do). She is aware and understands the world around her. Children talk to one another, and I don’t think as adults give them as much credit as maybe we should. Being open with your children is important, but what they see right now is chaos even we don’t understand. Some things I feel like even I can’t explain.

There are days I think I want to try to understand what is happening and why people feel the way they feel. It makes me curious because I don’t share the same morals or values and maybe that’s where the block is. I know people who believe in him, in what he has done and what he claims to be doing. Hell, they voted for him. They believe in his tweets, his blasphemous nonsense, his inability to see something other than his base. They want his wall, to keep out people who work hard in this country and only want a chance. They believe what he spews on a daily basis. It has become something the whole World must deal with and something Americans see as their real life.

The truth is this makes me not want to understand. It makes a lot of people feel like they have to approach people as they approach them, and they have to respond accordingly. It is hard to understand racism when you aren’t racist, just like it is hard to accept racism as a way of life that is acceptable for anyone when you are not racist. You can refuse to be subjected to someone’s behavior, and they can do the same, but having to prove every day that this is not normal or acceptable or even legal to someone that doesn’t care is exhausting.

It is also unnecessary. Or rather it should be.

What this administration has taught me is to try let go. It is teaching me not to ingest everything and to really understand what issues bother me and stay focused on those for now, and even though this post many issues we face, we need to concentrate and unite in order to get the things we not only want but need.

We can’t take on every battle at once, and I am not the only person that has to learn that.

Some people will hold on to an idea like a starving dog eating a t-bone steak. There is no reasoning with someone who believes abortion is wrong, or child abuse as someone told me, or infanticide. Religion should not play a part in women’s healthcare, but it seems as though separation of Church and State is something that has gone down the drain like other things that make America the country it is.

The idea that such misinformation is actually being repeated by this administration is not only scary, but it is dangerous. Instead of thinking of controlling women, this administration should think about the doctors, nurses, and caregivers it has put in danger on a daily basis. It stops their ability to perform necessary healthcare procedures. People who go to work every day to help women choose what is right for them, who sit with them before every procedure and explain what is going to happen, and who allow them to change their minds if they wish. The decision is hard for some, and necessary for others. I am sure there are women who abuse this right, but I am also sure this number is much less than women that are in need of the help and services these places offer. These are important decisions that should be made by women on a case by case basis and passing sweeping laws in states to outlaw, or make this procedure more difficult than it already is heartless and cruel.

During this administration, I have learned now more than ever that it is a man’s world. Men are still controlling the blood, sweat and tears of women, we are still viewed as lesser and treated as such no matter how much we fight. We can march, we can scream, we can petition, we can sit in, play dead, and raise our fists and voices. We can vote, but that doesn’t seem to work for women because we did that and ended up in this situation anyway. Still we marched, because at times it’s hard to understand that there really is no way out of the situation. We are pretty much useless unless we try again.

It’s hard to convince women of color that they need to, that we need them to come out in full force for a candidate they might not agree with or support. But the truth is, in order not to be the subject of more repeals of women’s rights, more human rights violations, more attacks on our planet - we need to do it all over again. It’s hard for some to agree with, and to swallow.

Finding a way through this has been difficult, not arguing your way through is even more of a task. We are still fighting - organizations are taking on cases I am sure they never thought they would prosecute. Suing an administration for the rights of immigrants, women and even children, fighting against the poison water they expect people to drink, and working to secure the correct amount of funding to repair the devastation of an island filled with American citizens. It begins to feel like we are constantly fighting.

I hope we have the strength to continue.

There has to be a way to end this administration’s ridiculous show of power, and its grab at something America never needed until he sat in the office. We were diplomatic and almost regal in the eyes of most, and now, we aren’t and it is apparently clear. I hope we can find our place back there, where women had the right to choose, and children aren’t separated from their parents. I hope we can find our way back to an administration that cares about the wants and needs of all, not just some. I hope for our future, for our children, that we are able to move on from this, and back toward something we can all be proud of. I hope we can still make changes for the better of everyone, and to understand the disparity that still exists. I hope we change it - and I hope we do it soon.

#this administration #women's rights #abortion is legal #abortion is healthcare #immigrants #asylum seekers #refugees #hope for the future #keep fighting #resist #not my president #organize #mobilize #strategize #protest #protect our children #common sense gun laws #clean water #human rights

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 6 years

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anza-redstar replied to your post “NOTES: Fae AU Chapter 13 So while a lot of my decisions about...”

I’m still wondering if they were even in Khurain legally. Thalassa tries to deal with the authorities, has to explain that she and Jove were carefree vagabond musicians who hitched a ride in with some friendly yak herders and whoops were they supposed to have visas?, gets deported, feels she has nowhere else to go but back to Hell Troupe

I feel like every time I talk about Khura’in, you add something that I end up adopting into my headcanons and by god you’ve done it again. They definitely weren’t there legally, just kind of drifted in and realize like two days later they’re in another country and go “WHOOPS, well okay”

Dhurke invites Jove to the palace and Jove feels compelled to confess before he goes that “my wife and I came up here with some yak herders, we’re pretty sure we’re here illegally--” and Actual Goddamn Legend Dhurke is like “Eyyy, whatever, what’s some illegal border-crossing between friends”

The authorities do not see it that way, later.

Potential language barrier in Khurain, too. Although by game time everyone seems to speak English. (Obviously that’s for player convenience but I’ve put an excessive amount of thought into the language sitch- do they actually mention having a specific Khurainese language in the game, I can’t remember)

GOD, I know what you mean about putting excessive thought into the language. I believe they do -- in the first case, Phoenix is given the card with the translation of the words of the Dance of Devotion song, and then there’s a joke later where he says he can’t read Khura’inese for something about the treasure box.

I have blocked most of the first case from my memory because it goddamn sucked and I wanted to throw my phone out the train window perpetually once the killer, competing for title of the actual worst character in any AA game ever, took the stand, but I remember that.

So honestly as far as we get, we’re given a written language, but beyond Nahyuta and a couple exclamations from the judge, Ahlbi, and Rayfa, we don’t really get much reference to the spoken language. Which drives me up the goddamn wall when I’m considering how to adapt things for a fic. What is going on in that courtroom, language-wise? (Does Payne even know Khura’inese, although I’m willing to toss Payne’s presence out the window canonically as a game joke about him always being the first prosecutor you face.)

The entire implications of the first case are screwy language-wise, because like if not for that and Payne, I would believe that the trial begins with Nahyuta deadpanning that “since our defense does not know our language, I suppose we can conduct these proceedings in English for his sake” and Phoenix feels like he verbally got all his skin blistered off.

#anza-redstar #replies #ace attorney bullshit tag #putting this in my aa musings tag bc i fucking LOVE the part about thal and jove just hitching a ride in

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surveys-at-your-service · 6 years

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Survey #166

“you are my slave, my little fucking disaster.”

Are your eyes the same color as your mom’s or your dad’s? Neither's. Are you afraid of elevators? YEP. When was the last time you pulled an all-nighter? What was the reason behind it? How did you feel the next day? No less than a month ago when I was binging someone on YouTube... Maybe Shane? Which of the following areas is going best for you right now: finances, work, love life, social life or education? Why do you say this? Lol only my love life is going well. All the other categories are on fire rn. :^) Have you ever heard of somebody doing something disrespectful to somebody’s grave? Or seen vandalism on a grave/gravestone? No, thank goodness. What is something you do differently, depending on your mood, environment, etc. (could be anything from what kind of outfit you choose to how you react when somebody irritates you)? Well, dress, for one. I'm at home, I'm permanently in pjs. I try not to swear around kids. Lots of other stuff... This question is pretty broad. What was the last song to bring out strong emotions in you? I'm not sure. Metaphorically speaking, what was the last thing to crush you? Finding out my cousin can die at the snap of a finger. You are about to die; what do you do with your worldly possessions? Give 'em to family and charities. Do you take vitamins daily? No. Do you know anyone that’s handicapped? Probably. Do you know any illegal immigrants? I did, but he got deported after he fucked up with getting involved in crime. Do you own any formal gowns/tuxes? I have one black dress I'd wear to certain occasions if I could actually fit in it, which I definitely could not currently. Can you sit for long periods of time? NO. Pretty sure my surgery caused a sensitive nerve, because afterwards, I couldn't and still can't sit very long without getting up being horrendous and slow. Do you have any cavities? Just one I'm scheduled to get fixed next month. What’s the most attractive thing on the opposite sex?  Why do I like shoulder blades so much like why Do you regularly experience pain in any part of your body? My knees constantly hurt. Wish I knew why. Last place you flew to on a plane? Chicago, and I'm going again real soon. :') Does Europe or Asia sound more appealing to you for a vacation? Ugh both. But it's more likely I'll see Europe. Who was the last person to give you a hickey? If ever. He Who Shall Not Be Named. What is your lover's middle name? Jane. Who was the last person to flirt with you, other than your lover? I don't think anyone. What’s your favorite type of sushi? Never tried it, not interested. What’s your favorite patriotic song? All that's coming to mind is "Courtesy of the Red, White, And Blue" by Toby Kieth. It's pretty catchy. Have you ever read a book about a character in a psych ward? No, but that'd actually be really interesting and maybe relatable to me... though that could also prove dangerous and triggering, too. Have you ever been in a mental hospital as a patient? Five or six times, I stopped paying attention at four. Whose place did you last chill at and with who? Colleen's. Have you ever been lead on? I don't think so. Have you ever slept with a member of the opposite sex without having sex? Well yeah, we were in a long-term relationship, we were just about an old married couple just like "nah son we going to bed." Sleeping with each other was enough. What would you say if someone asked you to get high right now? Peasant, I won the D.A.R.E. writing contest in the 5th grade, I say hugs not drugs. Has someone close to you died of a murder? No. How often do you brush your hair? Every time after a shower and before I go out. Short hair makes caring for it so much easier. Did you ever listen to Avril Lavigne when you were younger? Fuck yeah I did. What are three things you refuse to ever do? Prostitute, abuse someone, do drugs. Do you have any medication that you keep with you at all times? Yes, anxiety attack med. What’s something that’s much more difficult than a lot of people realize? Putting on and maintaining a happy face with depression. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Do you typically do your make up the same each time? Or do you like to change it up often? It's pretty much the same. What is your favorite breakfast food? Cinnamon rolls. Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? Yeah. When you help someone do you ever think, “What’s in it for me?” Check your heart if you actually ask yourself this. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No. Have you ever blocked someone on Facebook before? Yeah. Tattoos on your lower back - cute or trashy? Neither, reliant on just placement. I couldn't care less where you get tatted, the location doesn't *automatically* make something (un)attractive. Also, try to convince me how the placement of a tat is "trashy." What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? There's no telling. Ever faked an orgasm? No. Done something illegal to your car? N/A What scars on your body do you have? Oh, boy... I scar so easily. My worst ones are on my shins from scratching the fuck out of them after shaving, I have two scars from stitches, various cat scratches, a scar from bumping into the side of Venus' cage, one from accidentally scratching my hand pretty bad while washing my feet in the shower (don't even ask how I accomplished that), faint self-harm ones. I have way too many. Ever date anybody in middle school? One guy. Puppylove. Ever written your number in a public bathroom or a school text book? If so, did anyone actually call you? No. Ever had an infection of any kind? Yeah. Ears, a piercing, a cyst... probably more. Oh, and I have inactive MRSA, if that counts. Would you prefer cherry Cola or vanilla Cola? Omggggggg, gimme cherry. Vanilla Coke is gross. Have you ever tried to draw an anime version of yourself? No. How do you feel when you are ignored? I handle this worse than the average person. No one likes it, but it makes me feel especially unimportant, annoying, and unworthy of any attention, because something must be "wrong" with me. I guess it's maybe an AvPD thing, like I interpret it as rejection. Name a site that you visit everyday. KM. I'm like an overprotective mom of it that has to ensure everything is fine. Have you ever led the prayer at dinnertime? If not, do you want to? I have on Thanksgiving. Would you rather play an instrument or be the singer? If I was actually confident in my voice, sing. Turkey or ham for Thanksgiving? Turkey is too dry, so I was all about spiral ham. Do you celebrate Black Friday? I just shop online if there's a good deal I come across. What song are you listening to right now? "Army Of The Night" by Powerwolf. Have you ever been bitten by an animal? Nipped, sure. Then occasionally a cat would play too rough. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. At what point were your parents most disappointed in you? I don't know. Have you ever had a tarot reading or palm reading? No, I don't believe they're in any way factual. If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss at least somewhat of a social life. What is the greatest amount of money you’ve spent on a concert ticket? How much would you be willing to spend to see your favorite band/artist? Idk how much the Alice Cooper tickets were. To see my absolute favorite... maybe $300? Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? I'll judge you the moment I find out you don't. When you play Monopoly, what game piece do you choose to use for going around the board? The dog. What books (if any) have you read more than once? Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari and Because of Winn-Dixie off the top of my head. What is something you like to think about while you fall asleep? Happy thoughts. Focus on something good that happened and stuff like that. How long do you think you could tolerate going without showering? There's absolutely no way I could go beyond three. Even after two days, I feel pretty yucky. If you had the power to instantly transform someone’s life (for the better), who would you choose to use this on? My mom. She's never happy and probably doesn't remember what it's like to not be a stressed mess. Does it bother you when surveys ask about political or cultural topics that could possibly be controversial? No. Does someone’s view on homosexuality affect how you feel about them in any way? Yup. How about someone’s view on religion? It depends on which and how hardcore you are about it. Do you wear Crocs? Set them aflame. What’s your favorite thing to have on your bed? Sara. Don't even mean that sexually, it just means I get to cuddle with her lmao. What’s the nicest text in your inbox say? Certainly something saved from Sara. Who was your last missed call? Vocational rehab. The person you have feelings for says he/she wants to have sex, you say? Well first if she was absolutely certain about wanting to. Then I'd be all for it. Do you know how many people your best friend has had sex with? None. KFC or Popeye’s? I don't like fried chicken, like at all. If you could have a neon light sign that said anything you wanted, or looked like anything you wanted, what would it be? I deadass want a retro-style, blue one that reads "but be very Jim" to confuse the unenlightened. What was the last thing to malfunction/break in your house? Was it fixed? Something was wrong with the washer. I think it's been fixed? Or Mom's doing laundry elsewhere. What was the last uncomfortable situation you were in? I was getting my knees x-rayed and of course they needed a billion angles, and I couldn't totally understand what the woman was telling me (very echoey), so I just totally ragdolled and let her do whatever with my legs, but she needed me to readjust a lot and just ugh it was awkward and I felt very annoying. Do you think it is awkward for people over sixteen to have sleepovers? No????? Are you good about sharing your belongings? Are there certain items [aside from obvious things like your underwear] that you wouldn’t be willing to share with anyone? It depends on what it is and who you are. Something I'd share with no one... idk. Will you cry at your wedding? I will get raccoon eyes the moment I see her. What was the last thing you sang? "Where The Wild Wolves Have Gone" by Powerwolf. Gummy bears or Gummy worms? Worms. What’s your middle name(s)? Marie Catherine. If your last ex said they hate you, you say? I wouldn't know what to say; I'd be pretty damn hurt. We've been friends since high school and he's the last "real" friend I have irl. Only one I ever occasionally see, only one who checks up on me. What do you struggle with the most? Anxiety. It affects so many areas of my life. Are you good at giving advice? I don't think I'm bad. Especially if you give me a moment to think on the topic. What do you want to change about your looks? W E I G H T Do any of your pajama pants have holes in them? There's quite a lot in my Batman pair. Old. What do you get cravings for the most? Soda, probably. Do you enjoy watching vlogs? Depends on the person and what I feel up to watching. What is your favorite Halloween candy? Nothing really exclusive to the holiday. Where was your senior prom held? The local community college. What was the theme of your senior prom? Don't remember, actually. Do you know what you want the theme of your wedding to be? If so, what would it be? Sara babe can we do gothic please I'll marry you harder. Did you have low self-esteem growing up? No, it became an actual problem in high school. If you’ve ever had your hair highlighted, what color highlights did you get? Purple and red are the only highlights I've gotten, I think. What color Christmas lights do you like best on your tree? ALL THE COLORS. What do you put on top of your Christmas tree? We tend to alternate between a star and angel. How many proms did you go to? Two. How many boyfriends have you had in your life? Meh, answered this in enough surveys, so I'll just say only one was serious. How many girlfriends have you had in your life? One. Have you ever had a “friend crush” on someone? OH YEAH, I've learned that I have more than once. Think I like someone like that, then nope. Were you ever homeschooled? I was homebound at the end of 8th grade. At what age did you start puberty? Idk. I just know I was normal. Have you ever made a wreath? No. Who was your first roommate? My then-boyfriend, his friend, and his then-girlfriend. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Do you know how to change a tire? No. Have you ever passed out? Once, came very close on I think two or three other occasions. Do you prefer notepad or wordpad? Wordpad. Do you eat raw cookie dough? I will risk salmonella for that shit. How old is the last person you kissed? 20. Where does your best friend live? Illinois. How many people have you truly fallen IN love with? Two. Has anybody ever called you a tease? Oh boy. I fucking live off teasing. What about kinky? I was too much of a shy sub for him to ever see that side ha. Where was your mom born? Queens, NY. Have you ever seen your siblings naked? My two immediate sisters, anyway. What do people call you? Brittany, Britt, or Ozz, mostly. What are you doing this weekend? BITCH I'M GETTING MY MARK TATTOO. I made $365 + $20 sitting fee for the wedding shoot so guess what I'm treating myself to. Do you owe anyone money? Who? What for? My old college. Do you like people? Eh. Hard question for me to answer. I think I'm neutral towards the morality of humanity in general, but what's for sure is I don't trust the majority. Do you think you look better with a tan or without? Without. It's all I really know lmao. Would you ever share your most embarrassing moment in a YouTube video? That'd be flagged fast lmao. Regardless, n o p e. What’s your favorite hair color for girls? PASTEL COLORS!!!!! I like dyed hair on anyone okay. What color is your recliner? Don't have one. Do you wear makeup every day, or only on special occasions? Whenever I feel like it, regardless of occasion. What helps you take your mind off your problems? Talk to Sara, RP, watch YouTube... Does your first crush know you liked him/her? Definitely not. Did you ever think your house was haunted? I think my most recent might have been? But idk. Do you have any supernatural gifts or abilities? No. What does your trick-or-treat bag or bucket look like? N/A sadly. :c Do you celebrate Christmas? Yeah. What season would you want to have engagement photos taken in? As much as I hate the season, spring, with l o t s of flowers and sunshine!! You’re in line at Taco Bell, what’s your order? I only ever get a cheese quesadilla and fiesta potatoes. Has anyone ever taken your clothes off of you before? Yeah. Have you ever stayed up at night waiting for someone to call/text you back? Maybe? Have you ever touched a dead body? Dead pets, yes. I might've touched my old babysitter's face or something at her open-casket wake, idr. Have you ever had a real tea party? Or been to one? No. Just the make-believe ones Nicole would want to do as a kid with her Disney set. How do you feel when a mostly unheard of band (or tv show, movie, etc.) that you love suddenly starts to gain popularity? Happy for 'em! Just don't change your style for the sake of appeasing the masses. *coughmaroon5cough* When was the last time you listened to new music? Recently. Gotten into Spotify a bit. Do you think it is strange when a couple says “we are pregnant” rather than “I am pregnant” or “my girlfriend is pregnant”? No, I actually think it's sweet. You're in it together. What word spelled out looks weird to you? "Acquaintance." I can't spell it either; fucked it up first time. Do you require “closure” after things like break-ups or do you move on easily? I need closure. Is there a genre of movie that you just can’t watch? I'm not that into action. Have you ever been on a hot air balloon? No. What was the last seriously painful thing that happened to you? Getting my tragus re-pierced was actually pretty rough since apparently I have thick cartilage and it went through scar tissue. What’s the last rude thing someone said to you? Idk. What does your class ring look like? I didn't buy one. List ten careers you think you’d find interesting. Oh, jeez. Ten? Particularly interesting? I'll try: Paleontologist, biologist, cryptozoologist, zoologist, musician, YouTuber, dancer, taxidermist, snake morph breeder, and uhhhh. Idk. Do you know what you want to do with your life? Yeah. Do you believe in Judgment Day? No. What is the name of your YouTube channel? My current one is 0zzkat. What was the first social media site you joined? MySpace. Where would you most like to do a 24-hour challenge in? List five places. Bitch tbh I don't think I could do any alone lmao. But I'd probably find an old asylum scariest/most interesting. What’s your favorite part of Chinatown? Never been. What are some jobs people in your family have had? List five. Disney World employee, professional cake decorator, mammographer, special ed assistant teacher, and dance instructor. Which Power Ranger was your favorite? Wasn't into that. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? Whale sharks oof. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? Buy me that Reese's Blast thing from Sonic and I'll be your slave for a day. Do you believe in aliens? I actually do by now. If you were ever sent to prison what crime would you have committed? I've legitimately worried about me killing someone in self-defense but it being ruled as murder or something. @_@ Do you have a picture of you kissing someone? Yeah. Do you have a favorite pillow you always sleep with? No. When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? When I was at Sara's. Out of all of your friends who have you gotten in the worst fight with? That I still associate with, Sara. We were lil shits. :'D Who was the last person to have to deal with you having an attitude? Mom. If you had $100 dollars, how would you spend it? Save it to get my laptop fixed. You were given the opportunity to get a new cellular device, what do you choose? Some older iPhone. I don't need something needlessly expensive, just one that isn't actual garbage. Which of your classes in school is most capable of killing a good mood for you? Math was. How nice of a person are you, honestly? Tbfh I think I'm typically too nice. I'm getting better at taking less b.s. now tho. Ever physically fought with member of the opposite sex? No. Ever kissed a friend’s crush? No. Do you swallow gum when you’re finished? Only if I really want it gone but I don't have access to a trashcan. Very rarely does that happen because I feel funny trying to swallow it. Ever had a best friend of the opposite sex? Well when I was dating Jason I considered him my best friend of course, but if you don't count s/os, no. Have you ever kissed in the snow? Probably. Is there someone that you believe you will always be attracted to? Yeah. Do you have something in your room that you never want to get ruined? I would legitimately break down if something happened to my shiny pebble from Holly Hill. I got it on my "graduation;" it symbolized how something beautiful came from harsh conditions or something like that. It was passed around by my teachers and "classmates" for each person to wish me well and just in general say all they wanted to about me while holding it. With how that place truly became my messiah, I couldn't lose that thing, ever. Have you ever made a difference in someone’s life? I'd think so. My parents especially, obviously. Next time you will kiss someone on the lips? OCTOBER 3RD APPROACHES. Do you think dances (prom, homecoming, etc.) are fun or lame? They're overrated. You pay a lot to look nice just to stand around with shit music blaring and being totally unable to hear each other. I truly don't know why I went to two. What was the last thing you tried for the first time? Ummm blue cheese? What was the last thing you learned? Oh jeez, this should be easy with the videos I've been binging lately. Nothing impressive. How often do you visit your relatives? Like, never ever. When was the last time someone admitted to having somewhat of an attraction to you? Sara. What was the last wedding you went to like? Any pictures you’d like to post? It was beautiful and intimate, and it was an absolute honor to be the photographer. I don't feel like fetching pictures, but they're on my photography site and FB page. Has anyone slapped you across the face before? If so, why? No. Do you prefer to have more or less in common with your significant other? More. Would you take a shot of heroin for a million dollars? No, not worth it. Why don’t you talk to your ex anymore? Aaron: Drifted apart. Juan: He's a reckless fool I didn't want to associate with, partly out of fear of his rep, too. Jason: He wanted nothing to do with me. He claimed it was for my own sake as he didn't want me to develop false hope, but who knows if that was the sole reason. Tyler: He was way too obsessive and wouldn't leave me alone. I still talk to Girt.

#survey #quiz #questions #random

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nonbinarysasquatch · 6 years

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for the critical opinion on ships ask meme: dramione, rethaniel, joshbecca, grebecca?

Ah, yes, let’s see how many people I can piss off in one go. I’ll tackle these in reverse:

Grebecca: Maybe in some alternate universe these two could work out but not in the one we have. They were very toxic for each other and Greg, frankly, deserves better. I think It Was a Shit Show said everything about their relationship that needed to be said. It was terrible and Greg did the right thing by leaving.

While I do think Rebecca loved him, as long her obsession with Josh and her on issues went unaddressed she would’ve continued to string him along and eventually they would’ve hated each other. I think they were a really good example of how love can’t save a toxic relationship and you shouldn’t destroy yourself trying to make a toxic relationship work.

I do think seeing all the shippers who harass Rachel and Aline have soured me further on this ship but I still love Greg as a character. He’s (in my opinion) the most realistically human character the show has had.

Joshbecca: Josh is a sweet guy but he’s not remotely emotionally intelligent enough to be with Rebecca. And frankly, they just don’t have much in common. The main way they connect at all is via his childishness but for Rebecca that’s not healthy (and I’d argue it’s not really healthy for Josh either.)

There’s probably a universe where they could date for a few months and have fun but that’s it. They are just too different and in terms of the actual canon universe Rebecca has beyond treated him awfully and it’s only by the grace of the fact that Josh is the most forgiving and kind character on the show that he doesn’t hate her.

Rethaniel: Oh boy. Are you ever like, “Well, I’m about to say things that literally no one is going to be happy with”?

It’s been an interesting journey tracking my feelings about this ship. On my first watch through I was surprised by how much I was able to like Nathaniel, despite his flaws. But then I rewatched and was better able to analyse his actions (while watching season 3 live it became easy to forget things he had said and done and I didn’t pay attention to fan discussions at all.)

There are definitely Nathaniel moments I like. Actually, I still love his plot in Josh is Irrelevant because I really relate to him getting triggered in that episode for some personal reasons. It’s the only time I’ve found him relatable, though.

The funniest thing is that deciding to check out the CXGF fandom on Tumblr was the thing that really started to bring out my negativity about the ship. Simply because I was stunned to find out so many people... shipped them so wholeheartedly. It made me uncomfortable even though at that point I still hadn’t put an enormous amount of thought into it because frankly: I don’t care about Rebecca’s romantic life at all. It’s not why I watch the show. So my attitude has tended to be “she can have romantic stumbles and bad relationships as long as the end of the show isn’t about her romantic life.”

And I mean, that’s STILL my attitude. I know some people disagree but I’m fine with Rebecca having bad relationships and I know some people REALLY disagree but I think there is value to Nathaniel as a character (DON’T HATE ME LEAH) and deconstructing the privilege and abuses of wealthy straight white men in America.

Now, thankfully, my experience with Rethaniel shippers has all been great and most seem to be lovely people and many of them ARE critical of Nathaniel’s actions. So I don’t hold anything against them, and I’ve been forged in the fires of HP fandom where some truly gross ships are also some of the most popular so...

Anyhow, here’s why I’ve gone from kinda neutral on Rethaniel to them being actually something I’m against:

Look, before we get into any of Nathaniel’s behaviour and meta on his place on the show, I’ll just say: it’s really fucking hard to ignore that every female Jewish fan of the show I’ve interacted with hates Nathaniel. It’s not my place to comment on why that is but when an entire group is like “this dude makes us uncomfortable” I tend to listen.

Meta wise, we now know that Rebecca is Nathaniel’s Josh, aka object of obsession that he’s idealising. Which means that aside from any of his actual behaviour, once Nathaniel can get over that obsession it won’t be healthy for him to continue to interact with Rebecca.

Nathaniel sexually harassed Rebecca while they were trapped in an elevator.

He plotted to deport Josh’s father and to murder Josh’s grandfather so that he could get laid (though it’s debatable whether Nathaniel really thought he would have to go through with these things, I do think if Rebecca had been cool with them he would’ve let them happen and buried any guilt as per usual.)

He repeatedly bodyshames her.

He treats her mental health problems as cute and attractive.

When she breaks up with him he fires her out of spite (something he basically confesses to.)

Rachel Bloom has said that Rebecca is attracted to Nathaniel in part BECAUSE he negs her and that definitely tracks with Rebecca’s low self-esteem. She’s also said that her interactions with Paula’s dad factor why she goes and sleeps with Nathaniel after getting back to West Covina, so erm, unpack THAT.

For me the final clincher is “Nothing is Ever Anyone’s Fault” a song which I should note, I like (as a piece of satire and meta-commentary, which is a case for a lot of the show’s morally not great pieces.) After everything, Nathaniel doesn’t see anything he’s done as wrong. I do think he will eventually but the end of season 3 and the title being “Nathaniel is Irrelevant” to me send a clear message.

I’m baffled that some people think “Nothing is Ever Anyone’s Fault” is a sweet, romantic song when everything about it is the opposite of the message the show is trying to convey. Rebecca and Nathaniel are saying in that moment that part of what has drawn them together is not taking responsibility for their actions and blaming everything on trauma. It’s destructive and toxic, not romantic. And this evidenced by the following scene in the courtroom where Rebecca rejects Nathaniels amorality and chooses her conscience (aka Paula.)

And like, soon I will finish my season 3 reviews and get into why the season 3 finale is genuinely one of my favourite things the show has done (as it was the next missing piece that I wanted the show to cover... they had dealt with what Rebecca’s underlying problems were but not fully dealt with her need to take responsibility for her actions.)

I think there’s hope for Nathaniel as a character. He can grow and be redeemed and learn to use his privilege to help people, rather than using it as a weapon and a shield. But he needs to stay away from Rebecca. I do think they love each other but their love is destructive.

My final thought I want to attach is that... I think there’s something to be said for the relevancy characters like Nathaniel have for Americans. In this country, our real life villains look like Nathaniel and his family. They represent white privilege and and cold, driven capitalism.

It’s not entirely surprising that so many of us find it easy to love Nathaniel and latch onto him as a character. I think it’s something we’ve been conditioned to as a way of coping with life in a capitalist hellscape.

Observe the way people like Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos are treated by many liberals. Jeff is, to be fair, a liberal but he’s also the wealthiest man in the world and his company has some serious ethical problems with how their workers are treated at all levels (it’s not just the people working in the warehouses, I’ve known Amazon programmers in the past and the work conditions are nightmarish and not sustainable unless you are in perfect health and have no personal life.)

And Elon Musk is a libertarian who has donated to Republicans who want to take people’s rights away but he still gets weirdly treated like some sort of liberal icon.

And I don’t want to poison the well too much, but I would like to at least make a cursory gesture at our president, who is a privileged straight white man who openly sexually harassed women, is guilty endless racism, antisemitism, ableism, misogyny and has of course been accused numerous times of sexual assault. A complete list of why our president is awful would require an entire novel to itself...

But someone like our president was able to get elected. Half the country voted him in.

And obviously... Nathaniel isn’t wealthy on the level of guys like that (or he wouldn’t be pissing about with a lawfirm like Whitefeather) and he’s mercifully not a monster like our president. But I do think our need to cope with our environment contributes to liking characters like him. If people like him can be good inside and can be redeemed then maybe there’s hope for this country.

But in reality... people like Nathaniel don’t grow and change. But I believe they can. And, for me anyhow, this is the value I see in Nathaniel. They can send a message to straight, white men about privilege and learning to fight back against the patriarchy that lifts you up. He can be a good person. But his road to that might be a little harder because men like Nathaniel don’t change because privilege protects them. Why change when society itself never allows you to fail?

But I think Nathaniel will grow and change. But I think it’s important he does that on his own. Rebecca can’t be his manic pixie dream girl (even though that’s literally how he sees her.) Rebecca’s journey is her own and it’s not about the men.

#crazy ex girlfriend #at least this is so long that no one is actually going to read it lol #please no one hate me!#Anonymous

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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years

Text

Red Rose - Chapter 13

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7 Ch. 8 Ch. 9 Ch. 10 Ch. 11 Ch. 12 CH. 13 Ch. 14 Ch. 15 Ch. 16

Summary: The second day of the Presentation comes, and the girls are submitted to a culinary test. Riley and Olivia find some common ground. Charlotte hides witnesses in Greece.

Rating: M - Not suitable for children or teens below the age of 16 with non-explicit suggestive adult themes, references to some violence, or coarse language.

Notes: Hello, everyone! Missed me much last week? I noticed that I’m now past the hundred followers, and I didn’t mentioned it because I didn’t know how without having to come up with a giveaway. Since I’m poor and overworked, I won’t be able to host one, perhaps when I’m 200 in...

BUT, I’d like to personally thank my hundreth follower, @mythup, and all other 99+ who have graced my tally.

The submissions for the taglist are open! Just hit me up and I’ll add y’all to it!

Athens, Greece, Fall 2015

Charlotte locked the door behind her. She, the two girls, a maid and her driver gathered on the narrow entry hall of the old house.

“This is where you’ll be staying for a while.” The young noblewoman told the two girls in Russian. “While it isn’t safe for you in Cordonia, think of this house as a haven. No-one aside from Ms. Flowers, you and I know of it, much less that you’re here. I expect for you to follow Ms. Flowers instructions to the letter and to dedicate yourselves to your studies. A tutor will be provided for you in the morning.”

“Of course, Ms. Charlotte.” Katya bowed appropriately. “We’re very thankful for your help.”

They moved to the living room, and the girls sat on the couch, backs aching from too many hours hidden inside a car trunk.

“Can we leave the house?” Katya asked.

“No.” Charlotte was blatant. “Not only we do not know whether your former boss has connections in Greece, you were smuggled into European territory. If a police officer asks for your papers, you’ll be deported back to Belarus. Better safe than sorry.

She pointed to the maid and continued: “The cook will make sure you’re fed and clothed, while the tutor will keep you busy starting tomorrow. There’s a small yard in the back, where you can sunbathe if you ever feel the need.”

Zarina looked over the window, restlessly. “When will we be able to go back?”

Charlotte pursed her lips. “I don’t know for sure. Soon enough. We’ll send for you as soon as it happens.”

“Ms. Charlotte?” Katya calls upon her attention.

“Yes?” The oldest respond, facing her.

She handed her a manila file. “The last time I’ve been to the brothel I stole this from the safe. I thought I could use it as leverage to escape, but it’s in Greek, and I have no clue what’s on it. I think it must be important. All the others were stored somewhere else.”

“I don’t speak Greek either, but I’ll take it to Riley. She should know what to do with those.”

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Early in the morning, Riley sat on the dresser, finishing the last tints of her make-up for the day. It was exhausting to wake up early every day, just so Maxwell and Bertrand wouldn’t see her without it in the morning, but it was necessary.

Back in New York, she made sure to only have night employment, so her looks would be less recognizable, but Cordonia’s social season, contrary to expectations, played out mostly in the mornings.

She was reminded amusingly of Penelope’s complaints, ��My advisors said I only needed to look pretty at the balls and flirt with the Prince, but it hasn’t been going that way at all”. It seemed them all were misled about the nature of the tests to become the next Queen of Cordonia.

While putting on the mascara, she received a message from Charlotte, saying Katya and Zarina were safe in Athens. Smiling, she deleted the message, as a security measure.

A knock followed it. “Rise and shine, little blossom!” It was Maxwell.

“Day two of the Feast.” Bertrand announced. “I hope you’re prepared to fight for your time with the Prince, Riley.”

“And all the apples! You’ve made an apple pie before, right? And you’re pretty good at planting apple trees?” Maxwell asked.

“I guess we’re all finding out today.” She opened the door for them to enter. “Good morning, Maxwell, Bertrand.”

“Good morning.” Bertrand said, gruffly. “We’re here to prepare you for today’s events.”

“Very well. What am I supposed to be doing?” She asked, sitting back at the dresser and crossing her legs. Before Bertrand could open his mouth, she interrupted. “No, wait, am I supposed to be dressed differently for some inane reason?”

He narrowed his eyes. “As a matter of fact, yes. The best dressed lady will be crowned the Apple Queen.”

“Which means?” She raised one of her inquisitive eyebrows at him.

“It’s a fun tradition!” Maxwell said. “The people vote on who will run the Apple Court.”

“Yes, you’d get extra publicity, the favor of the actual Queen and the power to boss people around for an hour.” Bertrand amended.

“Interesting.” She said, with a contemplative smile. “What do you have in mind?”

He threw her a dress bag. “Change. There’s no time to lose. Through a series of promises and threats, I was able to procure a historically accurate rendition of a Cordonian peasant’s best gown from the realm’s most prestigious stage production company, available on consignment.”

She shook her head at him. “I’ll write you a check.”

“Cash only.” He smiled wolfishly.

Riley grumbled and took the dress to the bathroom and changed. “How’s this?”

“It’s perfect!” Maxwell whistled.

“You can thank me later.” Bertrand said, arrogantly.

She opened her jewel box, took a stack of hundred Euro notes and threw them at the Duke. “Thank you, Your Grace. You honor me so.” She said, sarcastically.

Vienna, Austria, Fall 2015

“You summoned me, Your Honor?” The slightly-chubby man said, fearfully.

“Good evening, mister Brandl.” Karen greeted with a smile. “Please, come in.”

She was sat on a divan on the sides of a rich and tastefully decorated living room. The windows, with frames typical for townhouses such as that one, opened to the Danube canal just on the other side of the street.

The house was deathly silent, to the point the clacking of porcelain of Karen’s cup and saucer was deafening.

“Sit down.” She motioned to the divan next to hers, in a polite, if commanding, tone.

Brandl obeyed wordlessly.

She put down her chamomile tea on the coffee table in front of her and picked up a paper portfolio laying on that same table.

“This, mister Brandl,” She showed him the portfolio. “Is an invoice from one of my accountants.”

He gulped. “I hope everything is going well with your investments, ma’am.”

“Oh, they are. Exceptionally well, in fact. For every breath I take, I grow wealthier.” She said, dismissively. “Nothing new, but there was a development that concerned, if not pleasantly surprised, my accountant.”

“What was it, ma’am?” He asked, tentatively.

She opened the file and placed on her lap. “Yesternight, an auction was held at the London branch of Christie’s. A painting by miss Valois reached a very high sum. You see, miss Valois always arose fair prices for her works, but never have a painting by her reached one hundred thousand pounds, and yet, this particular work was sold by two hundred fifty pounds.

“I am sure you know I and my children own collectively the most extensive collection of miss Valois works, and if each of them reaches a fraction of that price at any given auction, we would be over thirteen million Euros wealthier.”

“And all that without lifting a single finger. Some would call you very fortunate, ma’am.” Brandl amended.

“Indeed they would, but what concerns me is why that particular painting sold for so much.” Karen pondered.

“The pound is at a bad exchange rate these times, ma’am, and the economic uncertainties favor us at the art market.” Brandl offered.

She hummed. “Yes, yes, all good points, mister Brandl. Yet, I am unconvinced.”

“Why so?” He stuttered.

“Call it a hunch.” She dismissed with a hand movement. “It was enough, however, for me to issue an inquiry. Can you guess what I have found out?”

He turned blank. “No, ma’am.”

“I assure you it will be most entertaining, but I digress. The seller was kept secret by Christie’s, and you know how protective they are of such information. However, I knew that particular piece, and I knew it had been gifted to a very kind, if simple, lady.

“Regrettably, that woman passed away a few years past, God bless her soul. That painting, then, fell to the hands of her children, whom, without the artistic sensibility nor the emotional attachment to the piece, found it to be a hideous heirloom.

“Imagine their joy when someone offered to purchase that ridiculous painting for a sum of 2.500 Euros. They sold it right away, of course. That person, opportunistic, was purchasing miss Valois paintings scattered through galleries at artificially low prices. They were, after all, works by a moderately unknown artist.

“After he collected a sizeable amount of works, he accidently let out a certain princely family was looking for purchase of miss Valois works, which explained the mysterious surge of demand for her paintings. He, then, offered one of his collected paintings, exactly that one he purchased from those naïve heirs, for auction, believing that would be the one least likely to be traced back to him.”

At every word uttered at a sickly, scary calm by Karen, Brandl shrunk further into the divan.

“You will ruin your back if you keep contorting it like that, mister Brandl.” She pointed out, thin as a knife. “Anything comes to mind with that tale?”

“No, ma’am.” He manages to let out.

“You see, mister Brandl, people look at me and they see just some bored wife of some inbred, aristocratic family that should have gone extinct a long time ago. However, both you and I know that this could not be further from the truth. I am a cruel and ruthless woman. And as such, I don’t leave debts undisputed. You lied to me, mister Brandl, and I do not take lies kindly.” She snapped her fingers.

Her head bodyguard appeared at the door, looking as menacing as always.

“Wh-what are you going to do?” He stuttered, jumping to his feet.

“Restitution, mister Brandl, restitution. You caused me great disservice, running your mouth like that, aside from cheating a poor family out of an opportunity. I will have the money you earned from your pathetic maneuver to its rightful owners, I will have the paintings you bought at my disposition, and you’ll have only the debts you contracted for purchasing them.”

“You cannot do this!” He shouted.

“I can, I want, I did.” Karen was taxactive. Then, turning to her employee: “Now, if you may, escort mister Brandl out, he is becoming an inconvenience.”

The man was forcibly taken out of the living room, and the silence reigned once more.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

A short walk later, they arrive to the orchard, where the nobles were congregated for the festival.

“Now, Riley,” Maxwell said. “Are you ready to show off your baking skills?”

“No time like now.” She responded, determined.

Maxwell grinned. “Good, ‘cause you’re baking a pie for the Queen!”

“Today’s all about gaining the Queen’s favor. As we draw closer to the Theophany, she’ll be testing all the potential candidates.” Bertrand instructed. “Be careful what you say around her.”

“It’d also help if you won the pie-baking contest.” Maxwell said. “But you won’t be doing this alone! It’s a team event, so you can rely on the other ladies if you need to.”

Riley pursed her lips. “Now, that’s concerning. How can I trust some girl that never even came close to an oven in her life?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Some of them are absolutely amazing bakers!” Maxwell praised.

“I’ll pretend I don’t care how you know that and say it must be some other cutting-edge husband-catching technique.” Riley rolled her eyes. “Speaking of parents in desperation for noble in-laws, where’s Hana? She’d be a mighty asset for this, I’m sure she’d be able to do it blindfolded.”

“Dunno,” Maxwell shrugged. “But maybe you can get her on your team!”

“Okay, let’s do this!” Riley threw her nose to the air and joined the other girls.

“Make House Beaumont proud!” Bertrand commanded.

The two men walk off, leaving Riley with the other women. A minute later, Queen Regina join them.

“Greetings ladies.” She said. “I’m glad to see everyone here again. We will soon be dividing into two teams to partake in the apple pie baking contest. I’ve decided that Olivia will captain one team and Madeleine the other.” Of course she did. “Ladies, please select your teams.”

Again, with no surprise, Madeleine had the first pick. “I choose Lady Penelope.”

The black-haired woman walked cheerfully to Madeleine’s side. “We’ll bake poodle-shaped pie crumpets!”

“No.” Madeleine quickly shut Penelope down.

“Okay…” She retreated into submission.

“Lady Kiara.” Olivia selects, and the tanned-skin woman walks over to her side.

Also unsurprisingly, Hana and Riley were the last pick of the crop. The black-haired controlled an urge to roll her eyes, it was such a pathetic, puerile power play that even teenagers considered it childish.

“Look at the two strays!” Olivia laughed, wickedly. “Come on, Riley, I’ll adopt you. You’re not as mangy as Hana.”

“Oh, no, Olivia.” Riley linked her arms with Hana’s. “We’re a pair.”

“Two undesirables on one team? That’s just vile.” Olivia demeaned.

Riley shrugged. “I respectfully disagree.”

Madeleine resolved the dispute. “I don’t really care. You can have both of them.”

Hana and Riley smiled at each other and marched haughtily to Olivia’s side. As they walked towards the outdoor baking setup, the Queen approaches the black-haired.

“Lady Riley, I hope you’ll exceed expectations like last time.” She said, offhandedly.

“I wouldn’t worry, ma’am. Apple pie, after all, is America’s national dessert.” The younger woman smiled, with a side note of defiance.

Regina did not back down. “I imagine you’ve had some decent apple pies from your homeland. Though I expect that after today, you’ll be saying ‘as Cordonian as apple pie’.”

And with that, she left.

With the arrival of the girls, Olivia and Madeleine organize their teams.

“Riley, Hana, cut the apples.” The redhead commanded. “That should be a simple enough task that even you can handle.” And she walks away before either of them could utter a word.

Riley hugged Hana’s shoulders. “If mise-en-place is what we were given, it is on the mise-en-place we’re going to shine.”

With all the ladies positioned, Queen Regina addresses the crowd. “Let the bake-off begin!”

The ladies jump into a flurry of activity. Olivia slams a basket of apples in front of Riley and Hana.

“Get to work.” She ordered.

They quickly peel and slice the apples.

“Okay, done.” Riley dropped the knife. “The recipe says we should add two cups of sliced apples.”

“But we’re doubling the size of the pie, so we should add four cups.” Hana warned.

“Great, I’ll do the measuring.” She picked up the cup.

“I’ll start getting the spices together.” Hana said and left for the spice cupboard.

Riley takes the four cups of apples and set it aside for the cinnamon mix. “Hey, Olivia!” She called the redhead over.

With no response, she walked over where the Duchess was. When she came closer, the redhead hid two identical shakers behind her back.

“The apples are ready.” Riley informed.

“Uh… good.” Olivia dismissed.

The black-haired rolled her eyes. “Is this the best you can do, Olivia? Y’know, for all that I’ve heard from the Nevrakis, I expected a more seasoned conspirateuse.”

Olivia seems ready to bark, but then sights, checks around for eavesdroppers, and starts whispering: “I’m switching the salt and sugar labels for the other team. Now that you know, you can spare me your moralizing and leave. I don’t have much time.”

“I would, if I didn’t think Madeleine is probably thinking of ways to do the exact same thing.” Riley shrugged.

Olivia seemed shocked. “You want to help?”

“I want to slap that smug smile off Regina’s face.” Riley said.

“That I can agree to.” Olivia nodded. “How about you distract Penelope for me? She’s their guard dog.”

“On it.” Riley said and stealthily walked over to Penelope.

“Hey, Penelope.” She smiled sweetly. “How’s the pie baking?”

The other woman sighed. “Madeleine doesn’t trust me, so I’m ‘standing around and looking pretty’. But, you know, at least that means she thinks I’m pretty.”

“But you’re a noblewoman!” Riley argued. “How many centuries you could trace your lineage back again? Four?”

“Six.” She blushed, self-conscious.

“Six hundred years of high-birth.” Riley emphasizes. “Certainly you can bake a measly pie.”

“If only.” She lamented. “I’ve never even boiled water! Right now I wish I could just snuggle up with my poodle.”

“That I can understand.” The American used a low, emphatic tone of voice.

“Do you have poodles?” Penelope asks, excitedly. “They’re my favorite breed of dog. Did I tell you about the golden poodle statues around my family’s estate? We have one in the atrium, the gardens, the bathhouse…”

Before she could continue, though, a hand patted Riley’s shoulder. “Penelope, darling, excuse me for butting in, but this little sheep has wandered from the herd. I’ll be taking her back now.” Olivia came for her rescue.

“Of course.” She responded, cheerily. “Goodbye!”

Olivia leads Riley back to their team’s kitchen. “Not bad for a beginner.” If only the redhead knew. “But now I need you over by the oven.”

Riley walks over by a wood-fired oven. Hana waves and comes over. “The pie is almost ready to be baked. Want to help me decorate it before it goes in the oven?”

“Only if I can steal some batter.” Riley said, smiling.

“There is leftover filling.” Hana offered.

“Good enough. Let’s go.” She took the Asian’s arm and went over to the table.

Hana presented the pie to be baked. “I want to add a little flair to the pie, so it’ll bake with a pretty design. Though I’m not sure what the design should be. What do you think the Queen would like?”

The first two images that came through Riley’s head was a penis and a red rose. A penis was self-explanatory, but the rose, well, it was a finer print of cruel. Today, however, wasn’t the day for pettiness. She had a contest to win.

“We should add a Cordonian Royal Seal.” She decided, to stroke Regina’s ego. “It’s a pie fit for a Queen after all.”

“The seal is a bit complicated, but I love a challenge!” Hana said, excitedly.

Riley supposed she should volunteer to help, but decided against. Observing the Asian, she felt she had to comment: “You’re really good at this.”

“You sound so surprised.” Hana laughed.

“As I said to Maxwell earlier, I’m surprised you were taught this. It seems so… middle class, I guess.”

The Asian shrugged. “I never had to cook, and if my parents have their way, I never will. But it’s artistic, refined work.”

Before Riley could answer, Kiara appears from behind them and complains: “Hey! You’re not supposed to…” She takes a look into the work and stops on her tracks. “Whoa… Very nice.”

“You think the Queen will like it?” Hana asks.

Kiara smirked. “She’d be a fool not to.” And then takes the freshly-decorated pie and puts it in the oven.

As they waited for the pie to cook, Riley and Hana take a break. Some ice-cold water was served by the maids of the manor, and the girls had the opportunity to enjoy the late-Fall sunlight filtered through the apple trees.

“So, Hana,” Riley said. “As we were saying, if I was to guess, I’d say baking is yet another thing you’ve learned and don’t really like.”

“It was alright. At least I got to taste test all of my creations, including sneaking in some uncooked batter every now and then.” She smiled.

The black-haired snickered. “What would be the point otherwise?”

The timer went off. Riley put it carefully out of the oven and handles it to Olivia. The redhead snickers, smoothly takes the pie and presents it to Queen Regina, almost simultaneously to Madeleine presenting hers.

“Thank you both.” Regina said, ceremonially. “We’ll begin the judging with Madeleine’s pie.”

The woman looks carefully at the dessert, evaluating its presentation.

“This is very well done. Good work, Madeleine.” Regina appraised.

Riley contained a smirk. “Wait until you taste it.” She thought, meanly.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Madeleine bowed.

Regina then takes a knife, cuts out a piece and places it on a Portuguese ceramic dish. With silver cutlery, she carves the smallest of the pieces and puts into her mouth.

“Oh, my!” She quickly places her napkin to her mouth. “That’s a bit heavy on the salt.”

It was probably as salty as the Dead Sea, but Regina would eat the entire pie with a smile, just so she wouldn’t have to admit it.

“What?” Madeleine vociferate, surprised. And then her fists ever so clench, as she glowers at Penelope. Said young noblewoman shrunk, fearfully. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

Knowing nothing she said could savage Madeleine, Regina began appraising Olivia, Riley, Kiara and Hana’s pie.

“The design is superb.” She commented. “Who did this?”

“I did, Your Majesty.” Hana said, overjoyed.

Her soft scowl dissipates, as it turned out it wasn’t the handiwork of Riley’s. “You’re exceptionally talented, Lady Hana.”

The young woman bowed her graces.

Regina followed the protocol for tasting once again the pie. She bites and tastes it at length. Finally, she declared: “The perfect amount of apples with exquisite flavoring.” The Queen dabs her moth with a napkin. “After weighting the strengths and weaknesses of each side, I declare Olivia’s team the winner.”

With a barely-noticeable smug smirk in her face, Riley celebrated the victory with her teammates. The girls from both sides of the competition applauded, signaling the end of the event.

“Ladies, if you’ll proceed across the ground for our next event.” Regina oriented, as the cleaning staff swarmed to unassemble the outdoor kitchen.

Riley was walking over the signaled area but felt a small nudge to her shoulder. She turned to see who was it, and it was the Queen. “Lady Riley,” She says. “May I have a word?”

“Of course, ma’am.” She assented, politely.

Regina leads her away from the ladies for a stroll through the apple orchard. When they were far enough for anyone to overhear them, Riley asked: “Pardon my rudeness, ma’am, but what is it that you wish to speak with me?”

“I wanted us to get to know one another better.” She said, with an inviting smile. Riley thought she’d feel more at ease with a sneer. “I’ve been impressed with how you’ve comported yourself so far. You’ve demonstrated grace and composure unlike most.”

“You flatter me, ma’am.” She thanked, gracefully, all in the while she braced herself for the slash.

“But a queen, no matter how graceful and composed, cannot be everywhere at once. You’ll need to appoint advisors and ambassadors to act in your stead.” She said, seriously. “Which is why I’d like to hear your opinion on some of those around you.”

Regina was baiting her, Riley was sure. She remembered Bertrand’s words about being diplomatic, and she was going to take them to heart. “Of course, ma’am. I’m happy to be of service.”

“Madeleine is one of your strongest competitors. What is your opinion of her?” Regina asked.

She forced a snicker away. Regina couldn’t help herself. “Madeleine’s an asset.” Riley answered. “She has the pedigree and the skills to thrive at court, and she uses it to her advantage. She has the potential to be a decisive ally. Or a difficult enemy.”

“Interesting assessment.” Regina considered her words. “Hana has been a competitor since the beginning, and you seem closer than the others. What do you see in her?”

Now that’s a low blow. She’s pulling her friends into her intrigue. “Hana is extraordinarily talented, ma’am. And very kind, as well, she’s helped me find my footing here when I didn’t know where to step.”

“She’s someone you’d like to keep in your inner circle, I assume.” She insinuated.

“Of course.” The black-haired smiled.

“I concur with your evaluation.” Regina said. “What you say about your friends can reveal more about you than about them. And Liam’s commoner friend, Drake?” Riley noticed she could barely dissimulate her contempt. “You’re by his side quite often despite him having very little to do with the competition.”

“Despite his sour disposition, ma’am, Drake’s very reliable. He’s exceedingly loyal, and I cannot help but understand why Prince Liam trusts him. So do I, as a matter of fact.”

“It’s good to surround yourself with people you can trust.” Regina said, somewhat demeaning. “A true queen must have a network of allies she can call upon. It’s clear you’ve been assessing how those around you may help you someday.”

“I try my best, ma’am.”

“You may return to the other suitors, Lady Riley. It’s time I announce the next event.” Regina dismissed.

“Of course, ma’am.” She said, with a smile. “And if I may say so, I quite enjoyed our conversation. If you ever wish to know about me, I’ll be happy to provide the information. You needn’t to corner my aunt for it.”

Regina blanched. “How do you know of it?”

“Aunt Isabel is hardly a simpleton, ma’am. She found most strange for a man with an accent to ask with such determination about her niece she hadn’t seen for so long.” Riley informed, smirking wickedly. “Excuse me.” She bowed and left a somewhat-gaping Regina behind.

At the edge of the orchard, the people of the village congregated once more.

Shortly after, Regina addressed all the girls, completely recomposed. “The festival we throw during the Presentation serves to remind us the growth vital to keeping our nation thriving. Now, as is tradition, we will honor one distinguished, best dressed lady as this year’s Apple Queen. This is a ceremonial position for the people to decide. Last year, it was our very own, Lady Madeleine.”

Riley’s eyes moved round ever so slightly, while Madeleine bowed. “I very much appreciated the honor.”

“As for this year, people of Applewood,” The Queen addressed. “Who do you wish to honor with this title?”

A strong, quasi-unanimous chant of Kókkini Prinkípissa took the crowd by strike. The French-bred ladies looked at one another, wondering about whom were the villagers referring to. Riley knew whom, and Regina’s face showed she did too.

Kókkini Prinkípissa. Red Princess.

“I think we have a clear winner.” Regina said, unable to keep her contempt away from her tone. “Lady Riley will be this year’s Apple Queen.”

“Woo!” Riley heard Maxwell celebrate on the distance. “Go, Riley! Party like it’s 1299! All hail the Apple Queen from the Big Apple!”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Lady Riley, please join me for your ‘Coronation’.”

Riley kneels in front of the actual Queen. She hands her an apple-shaped scepter. “I pronounce you Queen of the Apples. Long live the Apple Queen!”

“Thank you all for electing me to represent you as the Apple Queen.” Riley addressed the crowd in Greek, arousing cheers from the peasantry, usually kept at large from those events. “I’m happy to accept this esteemed position, and I will treat it with the utmost respect.”

“My Queen,” Regina said in a low baritone. “I will serve as your acting seneschal and guide you through the ceremony.”

Riley forced a smirk away. Regina must be loving this, she thought, meanly.

Regina continued: “Before we proceed, we must fill out the Apple Court. These are the courtiers who will parade behind you. Who will be your cup-bearer? This person should be a close confidant you would trust with your life.”

Her eyes fluttered through the crowd. To her right-hand side, in a discreet position behind Regina, stood Liam. It was aligned to the objectives of the afternoon, choosing him, but at the same time, such a choice would come across as aggressive, especially to Kiara and Penelope. Their new allegiance would suffer if she was too conspicuous.

Her eyes fluttered to the crowd. At the forefront, Hana smiled, supporting. Now there’s a trustworthy person, as much as she was valuable strategy-wise. Her counsel was to be taken into serious consideration, not to mention a position in that travesty of a Court would be exceedingly beneficial to her own interests, if nothing else to appease her overbearing parents. However, Hana was also the obvious choice, and that’s neither strategic nor interesting.

Her mind branched to the other girls, she could choose a random girl, but that would bode as mocking the ceremony, and as skeptical she was to the whole ordeal, there was something inherently wrong about picking Madeleine or Olivia. Riley wouldn’t put behind them craving a literal knife to her back halfway through the event.

A solution came from the far back, though. A wicked smile spread through Riley’s face.

“Drake. I pick Drake.” Riley announced.

He came, smiling, trying to fowl her plan to make him miserable. “You know the cup-bearer tastes drinks for poison, right?”

“Yet, this is an apple festival. We’ll be drinking nothing but apple martinis.” She smiled, sweetly.

He grumbled. “I am blessed to carry out your agenda, my queen.”

Drake takes his place at her right-hand side, between Riley and Regina, who was also so very glad to be behind the order of precedence of not one, but two commoners, as fanciful as it was.

The blonde woman takes out a goofy-looking fool’s cap. “My queen, if you’ll name your court jester.”

Madeleine or Olivia? Choices, choices, choices. Riley laughed at her own evil. The reality, however, was less amusing. If she chose either of the girls, it would be an act of open warfare, and she preferred to keep the façade of naïve outsider, if only to an untrained eye.

There was someone, however, who would appreciate the position. “I pick Maxwell.”

Said man pushed his way to the front. “Step aside, plebeians! Three-time jester MVP, coming through.”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this.” Drake pointed out.

Maxwell, however, was undeterred. “I’m sensing jealousy.”

“Forget I said anything.” Drake aggravated.

The Beaumont spare plopped the jester cap on his head. The bells jingle as they fall down on his face.

“My queen,” Regina said to Riley. “With your court assembled, it is your right to issue an edict before your people.”

“My people,” Riley addressed the crowd, in Greek once more. “Love bind us together. Whether is love of country, love of citizen, love of self. These bonds hold us together. Our differences are insignificant compared to the power of love we share with one another.”

Regina cuts her speech short, summoning a horse and a carriage. “Magnanimous queen, show your generosity and share with us the products of your bountiful harvest!”

Riley got into the carriage and started handing delicately apples to every attendee with a blessing and a smile.

When the apples ran out, Regina led her to an area where Madeleine stood beside an apple seedling. “Your majesty, please honor your ancestor, the previous year’s Apple Queen, and plant a tree for the next generation.”

Madeleine curtsies. “My queen. Happy wishes for you.”

“Thank you, my ancestor.” Riley smiled, diplomatically.

“The labor of your forebears will help you build a better world.” She responded, in a tone of ceremonial neutrality. Lowering her voice, she whispers to Riley: “Not many get the pleasure of being addressed as ‘my queen’. Savor this moments. You may never hear the phrase again.”

“I thought we were beyond petty threats, Madeleine.” Riley smiled at her. “If you want to scare me so, you will have to do better.”

“As you wish, Lady Riley.” Madeleine responds, and step aside showing a hole in the ground for the sapling. “The ground is yours, my queen.”

Riley takes the seedling and place it into the hole and scoop the dirt in around it. She then turns to the crowd and addresses the masses: “The work we do today will benefit future generations. Our children deserve a better world then that we have it today.”

“Thank you, gracious Apple Queen.” Regina said. “As your final honor…” She motioned for Liam to approach.

He comes closer in a confident march, but averting, shyly, his eyes from her. “You are entitled to a kiss, my queen.”

She smiled sweetly at him. “I humbly accept your offer.”

He beamed. “As my queen desires.”

Prince Liam rises. He tenderly leans in and kisses Riley on the cheek.

With that, the festival wraps up and the cheering crowd disperses. Before Riley could walk very far, however, Maxwell comes after her, breaking through the crowd and waving over.

“There’s our glorious Apple Queen!” Maxwell greeted.

“Hey, lord jester.” Riley smiled back. “Thanks for your vote, I heard you cheering out there.”

He turned bashful. “Well, somebody had to do it. Anyways, that’s not why I’m here.”

“What do I owe the pleasure, then?” Riley asks.

“I might be able to get you some alone time today with Prince Liam!” He exclaimed, merrily. “I happen to know he’s in the manor’s conservatory right now waiting for some nobles. I could distract them long enough with offers to donate to their favorite causes.”

“Let’s do it, then!” Riley responded, excitedly.

“The conservatory’s on the other side of the estate grounds.” He pointed her. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Maxwell. You’re the best.”

He smirked. “Someone needs to think I’m the best to make up for Bertrand thinking I’m the worst.”

Applewood Conservatory, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

Riley walked into the Victorian-style conservatory, and as soon she stepped into it, she was hit with a distinctive citric smell. She couldn’t pass on the irony, apples and oranges.

Liam, expecting company, perked at the sound of the door, bracing himself to an unamusing exchange. The prospect only furthered his joy when he saw who was waiting for him.

“Lady Riley, what a surprise.” He beamed. “And wearing a costume?”

She smiled, self-conscious. “Bertrand says it’s historically accurate.”

“Well, you look fantastic.” He praised.

“You’re too kind.” She says, and on another note, she continued. “I hope I’m not disturbing.”

“I am supposed to meet some of my mother’s friends to discuss the flowers, but I’m very excited to see you instead.” He grinned.

His mother’s friends. Lady Carmela’s friends. The significance did not go unnoticed by Riley.

She knew; however, it wasn’t the time to discuss such matters. Instead, she smirked and said: “Yes, I might have asked Maxwell to entertain them for a while.”

“How courteous of him to have complied.” Liam concurred, with a smirk of his own.

“You’ve been busier than usual lately.” Riley commented.

He sighed. “Yes. Since my father has announced his abdication at the Regatta, I’ve been suddenly overrun by nobles wanting to…” He struggled with the concept he was trying to convey.

“Congratulate you in such fortuitous occasion, all in the while securing their position in the new regime?” Riley offered, in an ironic tone.

“Yes, that’s about right. My ascension seemed like a distant event, but now it’s actually happening. In a matter of weeks, I’ll be King of Cordonia.” He sighed again. “I thought I had more time.”

“Oh, Liam.” She came closer to him and placed her hands on each of his arms. “I trust you are more than ready to take upon this responsibility. Besides, if everything goes as smoothly as they’re going, you’ll have me by your side every step of the way.”

That statement has a dimension Liam had no clue of, but still rung true.

He smiled bashfully. “You make me believe you. We are a good team.”

“The greatest.” She laughed softly.

“It’s just so strange to think that so many people would be counting on me, depending on me.” He confessed.

“Well, even if you were a random man on the streets, people would still count on you. If you were a doctor, many patients’ lives would be at your hands. If you were a lawyer, your clients’ liberties would be on you.” She augmented. “Even if you were a househusband, your family’s life would be dependent on you. Responsibility is a side product of societal life, yours just happen to be… unusual.

“Besides, I know you. You’re kind, responsible, and noble, frightening so. And, perhaps most importantly, you’re always thinking of others. I am sure the realm will thrive under you. Or do you think I’m that off-mark?”

He smiled in modesty. “You say you see me so clearly, but how about yourself?”

“What about me?” She wondered.

He sighed. “I know there’s much undecided, but let’s say you were my selection. You’re such a free spirit, Riley, and I love that about you. But there are expectations that come with being queen. Royal events, palatial life, children. Can you really see yourself by my side as your place?”

“I left home very young, Liam.” She breathed. “I left for college at seventeen, and I never really looked back. There didn’t seem to be my place, it never seemed to be a place to go back to. Nowhere did, really. But now I’m going on thirty, and I’ve seen lots of great things and others not-so-good, and the truth is that I’m tired.

“I want to build something, I want to have something to look at fondly, I want to have a reason to stay. It all begins with finding someone I want to be with, and I want to be with you. So, it doesn’t matter if we’re going to live at the Brigades or at a shack in Montana, or if you’re the King, a high school teacher or a homeless guy, I’m sticking with you.”

He hugged her. “This means a lot to me, Riley.”

“Well, I mean it.” She said, earnestly.

“Meeting you in New York was one of the greatest things that ever happened to me.” He confessed. “You changed my life.”

She laughed. “I’m not even going to mention in how many ways my life changed because of you.”

“For better, I hope.”

“Certainly beats my old gig.” She laughed and kissed his cheek.

“Riley, whatever it happens, know that I am grateful for the time we spent together.” Liam said, feverishly. He pauses in front of a rose bush, picks one out and hands it to her. “I know you don’t like roses, but have you ever seen a Juliet?”

“Only at a public garden.” She said, while admiring the flower. “The five-million-dollar rose.”

He smirked. “It’s rumored that the man who created this breed spent five million dollars and fifteen years on it. It must have been a labor of love.”

“And yet, so less dramatic than a black tulip.” She smiled. “Thank you for giving it to me, my mother would love a picture of it.”

A rose. It seemed so ominous for Liam to seal his promise with a rose, just like hers to Charlotte is also sealed with a rose.

And, yet, it seemed so very appropriate. Sub rosa, she believed she had heard, no light shall ever shed over the secrets sworn by the rose.

Liam, sensing her discomfort, even if he was mistaken about its cause, decided to change subjects: “How did you find the Presentation?”

She smirked. “Lord, you people really love your apples! It was all fine and good, but I swear I could kill for a banana.”

“In the future, I’ll make sure you get a reprieve from all the apples.” He smiled back. His gaze lingered at the girl, and his smile fell only so slightly. “I don’t know how much longer Maxwell is going to be able to stall the nobles. He cannot entertain all of my appointments.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Have you even met Maxwell? He would at least try, if nothing else.”

Liam scoffed, good-naturedly, and wrapped the girl on his arms. She could smell his perfume, fougère, oakmoss and coumarin. His fingers delicately traced a line through her cheekbones, while the other hand, allotted on the back of her head, brought her face closer to his, finishing on a deep kiss.

As they break apart, Liam said, breathlessly: “We’d better stop, or I’ll never leave you.”

“I thought that was the point.” She raised a defiant eyebrow.

He captures her lips in another long, lingering kiss, then reluctantly pulls away, tucking a rebellious strand of black hair back into its rightful place behind her ear.

“Until next time.” He said goodbye.

She recomposes herself and leaves the conservatory in a haughty fashion. By the door of the manor, there waits Maxwell.

Before she could say anything, Maxwell jumped the mark. “I hope everything went well with Liam, but we’re switching gears for the next event.”

“Good afternoon to you too, Bertrand.” She looked pointedly at him.

“Sorry…” He smiled sheepishly. “It’s just that we’re kind of late, and we’re clearing the ground for the ‘fox hunt’ tomorrow morning.” He made air quotes.

“We are hunting now?” She admonished.

“No, not really. It’s more like a race that takes place at the Royal hunting grounds. Which means horseback riding through the woods!”

“Lord help me.” She aggravated.

Applewood, Neokastron, Cordonia, Fall 2015

The knock of the dress shoes to the polished wooden floor sounded like a thunderstorm over at the empty, silent hallway, for its feverish pace. From the windows, the light of the setting sun heats the late-autumnal waft running through the old building.

A knock to the grand, engraved door reflected the pace so-far, in a desperate plea for access. When the order was shouted, in mild irritancy, the man barreled into the bedroom.

“Your Majesties,” He bowed. “There is an emergency.”

“That much we’ve gathered, for how desperately you punched against that door.” Regina snapped.

“I am most sorry, ma’am.” He apologized and kept to himself by the entrance.

“Well, boy, now say what you have to say and don’t waste my time!” She berated.

“Regina, please.” The moaning voice of the King came from the bed. “Keep quiet. And you, secretary, come closer and tell me what brings you here.”

“Excuse me, sir, but I’ve brought the newspapers that will be published in the morning, and that is what they’ll be headlining.” He handed the man an issue.

His eyes popped. “Is this real? Is this the truth?”

“The Security Department is looking into it, but they said that, preliminarily, the newspapers have a very strong case.” He answered, regretful.

“Is there anything we can do?” He asked, grave.

“No, sir. It is too late.”

“There is nothing else but to brace ourselves, then.” The King said. “You are dismissed.”

He bowed and left.

“What is it, Constantine?” Regina asked.

The man said nothing but handed her the issue.

“What?!” She screamed. “That is outrageous!”

“It’s the truth, Regina, and you know it.” He bellowed. “Thank the Heavens they did not mention us.”

“Not they, her.” She snapped. “I told you that girl was problem. And yet, you did not listen to me.”

“I have it under control, woman.” He demeaned.

“You better have, you better have.” She said, and also left the room.

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classyfoxdestiny · 3 years

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The torso in the Thames: A 20-year mystery

By Angus Crawford and Tony Smith BBC News

It’s the longest unsolved child murder case in the recent history of the Metropolitan Police. Twenty years ago, a young African boy was murdered in a brutal ritual, his head and limbs removed, and his torso dumped in the Thames.

On Tuesday the Met Police made a renewed appeal for members of the public to “be bold” and come forward with any information that may help them solve this case.

The boy’s identity has remained a mystery – he was known simply as “Adam”, a name given to him by detectives.

Over the years, there have been arrests and forensic breakthroughs. But no-one has been charged with his killing.

I have followed the case from the very beginning, even travelling to the place where it’s thought the boy may have been born, in an effort to find out what really happened.

Twenty years on, I’ve been talking to the people closest to the case. Some, speaking for the very first time.

And we have visited Adam’s unmarked grave in a sprawling cemetery in south London.

21 September 2001: The discovery

image source, PA Media

image captionThe body was found in the Thames near the Globe Theatre

It was a passer-by who found the body.

Aidan Minter was walking across Tower Bridge in central London heading for a business meeting.

It was just 10 days after the 9/11 attacks in the US and the city was still strangely quiet.

“The tide was quite high at the time, I thought it was a tailor’s mannequin,” Aidan recalls. He rarely speaks about the case. “Then it came under the bridge, and that’s when I saw the detail – the wounds and the body itself.”

Police pulled the body from the water – upstream – close to the Globe Theatre.

It’s a memory Aidan lives with to this day. “I do think about him. I’ll never forget it for as long as I live.”

image captionAidan Minter (pictured in 2021) found the boy’s torso in the River Thames

The first week

The boy, who was black, may have been in the water for up to 10 days. He had died from having his throat slit. His arms, legs and head had all been expertly amputated. They have never been found.

There were no signs of physical or sexual abuse, and he had been well fed. On the body there was nothing but a pair of orange shorts – something which later gave officers their first breakthrough in the case. The label was “Kids & Company” and the size and colour could only be found in a small number of shops in Germany.

Nick Chalmers, then a detective sergeant, was one of the police officers assigned to the case – the strangest and most complex of his career.

image captionRetired detective Nick Chalmers (pictured in 2021)

“You definitely have a tie to a case, and there’s this drive to find answers. The one thing that has lingered over 20 years is the frustration that we didn’t find all the answers,” he says. He has an encyclopaedic knowledge of the case, and keeps copies of many of the case files at home

Nearly a week after the body was found, detectives appealed for help from the public on the BBC’s Crimewatch UK programme. About 60 people called in, but there was no breakthrough.

African connections

Detectives took the unprecedented step of giving the boy a name, and a reward of £50,000 was offered for information leading to a murder conviction.

Tests showed that Adam had been aged between four and seven years old and had lived in Africa until shortly before his death. Traces of cough syrup were also found in his stomach. If he had been unwell, had those who killed him been concerned enough to give him medicine? Or did they use it to make him drowsy before the murder?

Experts agreed that – because Adam’s body had been expertly butchered – it had been a ritualistic murder. Some thought it had been one of the rare so-called “muti” killings found in southern Africa – when a victim’s body parts are removed and used by witchdoctors as “medicine” for a client who wants, for example, to win a business deal or secure good luck.

Other experts believed it was more likely a human sacrifice with its origins in a twisted version of Yoruban belief systems from Nigeria. A perverted offering to the goddess Oshun – a deity typically associated with water and fertility. Subsequent forensic evidence gave more credence to that theory.

April 2002: Mandela’s plea

In April 2002, the police team travelled to South Africa to meet the country’s former president Nelson Mandela. He appealed across the continent for Adam’s family to come forward:

“Scotland Yard informs me that early indications of their investigations are that the boy comes from somewhere in Africa, so if anywhere, even in the remotest village of our continent, there is a family missing a son of that age who might have disappeared around that time… please contact the police.”

July 2002: Breakthrough

In July 2002, social workers in Glasgow became worried about the safety of two girls. They were living with their mother, an African woman in her early 30s.

Council workers found bizarre, ritualistic objects in her home. At a court hearing to take the children into care, the woman – Joyce Osagiede – told a story of cults, killings and of sacrifices.

An observant police officer thought it odd enough to warrant a call to the homicide unit in London.

DS Nick Chalmers searched Joyce’s home and found clothes with the same “Kids & Company” label and in the same sizes as Adam’s orange shorts. Joyce was arrested.

image source, PA Media

image captionPolice displayed a pair of shorts similar to those found on Adam’s torso

Officers were convinced she was an important part of the story, but she was confused and kept changing her account. She said she knew nothing about Adam, but was unable to explain the extraordinary coincidence about the clothes.

Officers weren’t able to charge Joyce. She remained in Glasgow waiting for the results of her asylum claim.

September 2002: Nigerian links

In September 2002, a year after Adam was found, a memorial service was held in London’s City Hall to celebrate his life. It was attended by about 30 police officers, scientists, pathologists and various experts involved in the case.

image source, PA Media

image captionA wreath was placed in the Thames in memory of Adam, September 2002

“Probably the closest thing [Adam] had to a family were the people who knew him because of the investigation,” says Nick Chalmers.

Forensic work continued, and by December it was clear Adam’s DNA pointed to West African ancestry. Ground breaking tests on samples of bone narrowed down Adam’s birthplace to a strip of land around Benin City in southern Nigeria – Joyce Osagiede’s home city.

media captionIn 2002 the Crimewatch team investigated the case. At the time it was believed Adam was Afro-Caribbean.

Pollen samples in his gut showed he had been living in the south-east of England for only a matter of days or weeks before his death.

Also in his stomach was an unusual substance made of African river clay – including vegetation, ground bone and traces of gold and quartz. The presence of ash showed the mixture had been burned before the child was forced to eat it – perhaps that explains the cough medicine, something sweet to wash down the unpleasant concoction?

November 2002: German connection

Joyce Osagiede – the woman who had been arrested in Glasgow but not charged – was deported after the Home Office rejected her asylum application.

Nick Chalmers and his boss Detective Inspector Will O’Reilly travelled with her to Nigeria on a specially chartered private jet. It was hoped she might open up on the flight and reveal crucial information about the murder. But she didn’t. The detectives didn’t get off the plane when they landed in Lagos, and flew straight home. Joyce then disappeared.

Shortly afterwards, German police revealed that Joyce had lived in Hamburg until late 2001 – the city where the orange shorts found on Adam’s body were bought.

More arrests

In London in late 2002 there was what seemed like a major breakthrough.

When police arrested Ms Osagiede, they found that she only had two contacts in her phone – one was for a man called Mousa Kamara. He was traced to a house in London. There, officers found an animal skull pierced with a nail, liquid potions and small packets containing what appeared to be sand or earth. There was also a videotape labelled “rituals” – a drama in which an adult was beheaded. The items seemed to be associated with Nigerian rituals, known as Juju. Detectives also worked out that Mousa Kamara’s real name was actually Kingsley Ojo. With nothing to link him directly to Adam’s murder, he was released on bail.

But there was clear evidence Ojo was involved in human trafficking and so he was put under surveillance. Within hours of being released, he was back talking to his criminal associates organising the illegal entry of Nigerians to the UK. He was considered to be a major player in a gang smuggling people into the country.

image source, PA Media

image captionKingsley Ojo arrested in Stratford, east London. in July 2003

In July 2003, after following his every move and identifying his criminal associates, 21 men and women were arrested in co-ordinated raids at nine addresses across London. That included Ojo.

October 2003: The Doomsday Plant

Botanists at Kew Gardens had been sent samples of plant remains found in Adam’s gut. In October 2003, they came to a startling conclusion. Adam had been fed parts of two different plants. First, there were small amounts of the Calabar bean – sometimes known as the Doomsday or ordeal plant, traditionally used in witchcraft ceremonies in West Africa. At this dosage it causes paralysis, but doesn’t prevent pain. Second, ground-up seeds from the Datura plant which acts as a sedative and causes hallucinations were discovered.

image source, Getty Images

image captionDatura seed capsule

Detectives believed the mixture was given to Adam before his throat was cut. It would have left him paralysed and helpless, but still aware of what was happening to him.

July 2004: Kingsley Ojo jailed

Police had enough evidence to charge Kingsley Ojo – not in connection with Adam’s death, but with four charges of people smuggling and using fake documents to obtain a passport and driving licence. In July 2004, he pleaded guilty and was sentenced to four years in jail – with a recommendation he be deported upon release.

Ojo, who was also known by a number of aliases, had according to investigators headed a “substantial” network thought to have brought hundreds of people to the UK to work in the sex trade, as domestic slaves or for benefit fraud.

Detectives hoped Ojo would still hold the key to Adam’s death.

I learned that in Brixton Prison, he gained a reputation for being a “big man”. He is alleged to have performed Juju ceremonies for money on behalf of other prisoners, one inmate informed the police.

December 2004: Inquest

In December 2004, the inquest into Adam’s death recorded a verdict of unlawful killing. It heard how he died from neck wounds suffered while he was still alive.

2005: Kingsley Ojo offers to help

From his prison cell Ojo contacted the team investigating Adam’s death. He said he had secret recordings of Joyce Osagiede recorded in Nigeria by his associates. He claimed he wanted to help track down the killer and clear his own name.

Officers interviewed him at the end of his sentence, while he was waiting to be deported. He convinced the murder team he could help – and by late 2005 was released and living back in east London, apparently assisting the inquiry.

For more than two years, he fed the police information – at one point claiming that Ms Osagiede was on her way back to the UK. This proved not to be true.

He also accused a different woman of leading the sacrificial ceremony back in September 2001. Police placed an undercover officer in her church for months – but detectives would conclude that there was no basis for the claims.

In December 2006, Adam’s body was laid to rest in an unmarked grave in a London cemetery.

The non-denominational service was attended by a handful of police officers who had worked on the case from the start – including DS Nick Chalmers and Will O’Reilly, soon to be promoted to detective chief inspector.

2008: Kingsley Ojo deported back to Nigeria

Detectives concluded they couldn’t rely on Kingsley Ojo – he was still believed to be using a false identity to commit benefit fraud even after his release from prison. In 2008, he was deported back to Nigeria.

Throughout his deportation hearing Ojo claimed that he had always “done his best” to assist the investigation.

Also in Nigeria, Joyce Osagiede reappeared and was interviewed by police. She finally admitted she had looked after “Adam” when she had lived in Hamburg in northern Germany – and had bought the orange shorts found on his body. But she said no more and vanished again.

After years of trying, I finally managed to track down a woman who actually knew Joyce in Germany. She’s never spoken to the media before.

Ria Matthes, a social worker assessing benefit claims, met Joyce and her two girls on several occasions when they were in Hamburg. She also remembers seeing Joyce twice with a small boy in the summer of 2001 who she now realises may well have been Adam. Which would make her her one of the last people to see him alive.

media captionRia Matthes, a social worker in Hamburg, met Joyce and saw her with a young boy who may have been Adam.

“I think about the case regularly,” she says. “For me he was a very shy – albeit an attentive – child. He was completely introverted and withdrawn. He remained in one spot and didn’t move.”

Joyce treated the boy as if he was a “necessary evil to her” says Ria. “[It was] like she had to drag him along with her because maybe she didn’t want to let him out of her eyesight or like she took him along so he wouldn’t have to be on his own.”

2011: Photo of Adam

For three years, investigations continued but with no new significant leads. But when detectives searched through Joyce Osagiede’s belongings left with a friend in Germany, they found a pile of photographs. One of them showed a boy of about five years old staring straight at the camera – it was taken in 2001.

Det Sergeant Nick Chalmers was sceptical about whether it could be Adam, but he had moved on from the investigation and a new team of detectives had taken over. In early 2011, the photo was given to ITV News, which tried to track down Joyce in Nigeria.

Joyce said that Adam was indeed the boy in the photo – and his real name was Ikpomwosa. She said she had looked after the boy, but had given him to a man called Bawa. For a time it seemed as if the mystery over Adam’s identity had been solved.

But detectives were unable to positively identify the boy or take the investigation forward.

2012: A meeting with Joyce in Nigeria

A year later, we found out why. Out of the blue, Joyce’s brother Victor contacted me from Nigeria. He said there had been a misunderstanding – the boy in the photograph wasn’t Adam, and his name was not Ikpomwosa. He and Joyce wanted to put the record straight.

image captionJoyce Osagiede, in Nigeria

I travelled to Benin City with Nick Chalmers, who by then had retired from the Met. We found Joyce living in a small house in a run down neighbourhood – she was pleased to see us, but at times seemed confused. She was known to have mental health problems.

Joyce told us the boy in the photo was actually called “Danny” – who Nick and I managed to track down in Hamburg.

Joyce also suggested yet another name for Adam. She called him Patrick Erhabor – something we were unable to verify.

Finally, we showed Joyce one more photograph. She instantly identified the man as someone she called “Bawa” – the person she says she gave Adam to in Germany in 2001. The photo was of trafficker Kingsley Ojo. It was the first time she had ever made that allegation.

Nick and I managed to track down Ojo in Nigeria – he would not meet us, but agreed to talk on the phone. He insisted he had no involvement in Adam’s murder. Indeed there is no evidence linking him to the killing.

image source, Facebook

image captionKingsley Ojo

But the former detective believes he may still hold the key to unlocking the case.

Responding to our report, which was broadcast in early 2013, a Met spokesperson said any new information would be “thoroughly investigated”.

2021: Remains a cold case

Since 2013 the investigation has effectively become a “cold case” with no significant new lines of enquiry.

But there has been one major development. I stayed in touch with Joyce’s brother Victor and last year he revealed to me that Joyce had died. One of the last remaining links to Adam, and potentially a crucial witness, now gone.

Aidan Minter, the man who spotted the body in the river, was diagnosed with acute post-traumatic stress disorder. He says he felt utterly helpless, knowing his discovery was somebody’s son.

“It’s the shock of – why is it there? Who did it? That’s the hardest thing. He was a small boy with a personality and it was cruelly taken away from him in some sort of ritualistic murder.”

media captionNick Chalmers is still haunted by the case.

For retired detective Nick Chalmers, the lack of answers is deeply frustrating.

“This was an innocent young child. There are people responsible for his death who haven’t been brought to justice.

“Twenty years on, I wish we knew the identity of Adam – and his parents. In reality, he is a missing child from a family, who probably don’t know he’s buried here in London.”

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spaztronautwriter · 7 years

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The Proposal: Ch. 5 (an Olicity fic)

Summary: When Felicity Smoak finds herself in a bind, she enlists the help of her assistant Oliver Dearden to help her keep her from being deported and losing her job. The problem is, in order to do so, they kind of have to get married…

A/N: I feel like I should point out that I’m sort of using this fic as a motivator to write/post more often, and I’m not putting as much effort or editing into it as I normally would. So if the chapter lengths and the pacing seems all over the place or you notice a lot of mistakes, that’s why. Hopefully this chapter’s alright, though. It’s longer than last week’s at least.

Read Chapter: One | Two | Three | Four | Five

Read on AO3

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By the time the town car pulled up outside the Queen’s mansion, Felicity was exhausted. Both physically and emotionally. She took in the huge, stone estate with an unseeing eye. Oh, she saw the perfectly manicured lawns, surrounded by gardens and lovely wooded areas. Saw, with some amount of awe, the impressive, almost castle-like structure before her, but it was fleeting. Her only substantial thought was which of the many windows belonged to her room.

She’d never been a fan of flying to begin with—it always seemed to leave her groggy—but the flight mixed with the stress of finding out Oliver had been lying to her for years… All she wanted was to crawl under the blankets and stay there for the next forty-eight hours. Oh, but of course she couldn’t! Because she was about to go inside the actual castle that was his childhood home and meet his family for the first time to announce their engagement.

What the hell had she been thinking?!

What the hell had he been thinking when he’d agreed to this stupid plan?!

The driver came around back to open the door for them and Thea gracefully slid out of the back seat. Oliver leaned over, ducking his head a little to address his sister.

“Can you give us a minute, Thea?”

Thea smirked, tilting her head to look past him and directly at Felicity. “Not changing your mind, are you?”

Little did the girl know that that was exactly the question Felicity needed to answer. Was this—Oliver’s parentage—going to derail this plan of her’s? Was it easier to just call it quits now or should see stick it out, despite all of her doubts?

The answer would largely depend on Oliver’s explanation.

“We’ll be right in,” Oliver assured her. He nodded once at the driver, who politely shut the door, giving them a moment of privacy.

As soon as they were alone she turned on him. “What the hell, Oliver?” she hissed, slapping the back of her hand into his bicep.

“Ow.” He glared, making a show out of rubbing his arm. “I’m sorry, alright?”

“Why didn’t you at least warn me?” she demanded.

“I meant to tell you on the plane, but you wanted to go over the project budget again. And then I was going to tell you on the way here, but Thea ambushed us at the airport.”

“Those sound like excuses.” Felicity narrowed her eyes. “You’ve worked for me for how long? You could have mentioned it at some point.”

“It never came up,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve been avoiding my past for years and I’ve done a pretty good job of it up until now.” Blowing out a breath, he leaned back into the plush leather seating of the town car. “I like my life now. I like my job. I really didn’t want to lose it because of my family’s business.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to stem a headache. She really needed a nap. “You wouldn’t have lost your job, Oliver.”

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, tilting his head challengingly. “Tell me, honestly, that the board would be okay with your executive assistant being the son of Robert Queen.”

Felicity sighed. He was right. If there was one thing the Palmer Tech board of investors wasn’t known for it was being understanding. They’d have fired him in a heartbeat, or worse, made her do it.

“Yeah, well,” she said, shaking her head, “they’re going to be even less thrilled when it turns out their Vice President is Robert Queen’s daughter-in-law.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would ever have to know. I wasn’t prepared for my boss to volunteer me for marriage.” She leveled him with a look that had his shoulders slumping. “Look, we can still keep this between us. My parents aren’t exactly bragging to their friends about my position at Palmer Tech. They’ll keep our marriage quiet as long as we do.”

Felicity took a long, deep breath. That could work. Oliver was clearly estranged from his family, and it wasn’t like it was illegal to work for your father’s competitor. Maybe she was making way too big a deal about this. It would be fine. They’d spend a quiet weekend with the Queens celebrating Thea’s birthday. She’d keep out of the public eye while she was here and they’d head back to Central City on Sunday to get married by a justice of the peace.

It would be fine.

“Okay,” she said, feeling calmer now that they’d talked. “I guess we need to go inside now, huh?”

Oliver smiled. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure Thea will come looking for us soon if we don’t.”

Felicity bit her lip, looking back towards the mansion. “I wish I could take a nap first.”

“Me, too,” he sighed, opening the door. “But if we get it over with now it’ll be easier. Like ripping off a band aid.”

Felicity groaned, but allowed him to help her from the car. The mansion really was lovely and under any other circumstance she’d probably love to spend a quiet weekend here. Swinging open the solid oak door, Oliver led them into a large foyer. She took in the marble floors and the staircases—one on each side of the entrance, twisting up to the second floor. It looked more like a hotel than a home.

A woman in a housekeeper’s uniform entered the room, her face splitting into a large grin when she saw them. Or, saw Oliver, more accurately. “Mr. Oliver!” she exclaimed, rushing over to give him a hug.

Oliver laughed, wrapping his arms around her. “It’s good to see you, Raisa.”

“It’s been too long. You should come home more often,” she clucked.

He smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek before pulling back. “Where is everyone?”

“They’re in the sitting room, waiting for you.” Finally she turned to Felicity, her eye appraising, though not unkind. “Who is your friend, Oliver?”

“This is Felicity,” he replied, his hand belatedly shooting to the small of her back. “My fiancée.”

Felicity’s hands twitched at the title, but she managed to put on her best smile. Raisa’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between them, eventually settling on Felicity.

“Another reason he should come home more often,” she teased, reaching for Felicity’s hands. She took them both in hers, squeezing affectionately. “It is nice to meet you, Ms. Felicity.”

“You, too,” she said, her nerves lessening just a touch at the warm reception.

“Oliver, sweetheart?”

Felicity turned to see a woman coming from a room to the right. She was somehow both charming and intimidating with her honeyed voice and glowing smile.

“Thea said you brought a friend,” she said, pulling him in for a hug and kissing his cheek, before turning to Felicity. “I’m Moira Queen.”

“Mom,” Oliver said. “This is Felicity Smoak.”

“Hi,” Felicity said, trying to remember the last time she’d met someone’s parents. Had she been this nervous then? “Oliver’s told me so much about you.”

At least, he’d mentioned quite a few times how overbearing his mother could be. That counted, right?

Moira smiled politely, if not as warmly as she had at her son. “Everyone’s in the sitting room. Why don’t we head in so you can say hello?”

Oliver took her hand, nearly startling her, but she was glad for the support as they walked into the sitting room. There weren’t many people waiting. Just Thea sitting on the sofa with an older man that Felicity recognized immediately as Robert Queen, and a younger man with dark hair and a wide smile standing beside them.

“Ollie,” the younger man crowed, rushing over to embrace Oliver. Felicity had to quickly step back to avoid getting in the way. “It’s been too long.”

“Tommy,” Oliver laughed, patting the man on the back. “You were in Central City, like, two months ago.”

“Yes, I was,” he agreed, his eyes skating over Felicity as he pulled back. “So why wasn’t I introduced to your enchanting friend here?”

Oliver shook his head. “This is Felicity Smoak. Felicity, this is my best friend, Tommy Merlyn.”

Tommy grinned, his eyes playfully raking her figure. “Now I understand why he refuses to leave Central City.”

It was a cheesy line, but something about Tommy’s overdone charm set Felicity at ease and the last vestiges of nerves faded. “Now I understand why he never introduced us,” she said with a smirk.

Tommy grinned in delight, probably unused to women not falling for his charms.

“I’m Robert Queen,” the older man said, standing from the sofa. He approached with a grin, reaching out to shake her hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Ms. Smoak. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh,” Felicity said, shooting Oliver a teasing smile. “All good things I hope.”

She hadn’t forgotten what he’d said about her to his sister. Masochistic dictator, she believed was the term. She wasn’t about to let him live that down.

“From colleagues,” Robert corrected. “You’ve been doing excellent work at Palmer Tech. Ted Kord speaks highly of you.”

“Oh.” She tried to temper her blush, but it was nearly impossible. Robert Queen was a giant in the industry and he’d heard of her. She just hoped she wasn’t grinning like a total dork.

“So what brings you to Starling?” he asked. “Is it too much to hope you’re in the market for a new job?”

Over Robert’s shoulder, Thea smirked, settling into the couch to watch the show. Moira stepped over, smiling as she wrapped her fingers around Robert’s arm, her wedding ring glistening in the light from the windows. Felicity’s nerves fluttered back to life.

Oliver took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before he said, “Mom, Dad. We have some news.”

Moira’s smile tightened. Tommy’s head cocked to the side. Clearly Thea hadn’t spilled the beans. It probably would have been easier if she had.

“We’re…” Oliver paused, looking down at her. All of her fears and anxiety were reflecting back at her from his eyes, and she reached out instinctively, taking his hand. His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile pulling them up at the corners, before he looked back at his parents. “We’re getting married.”

Robert huffed, but smiled. It was… not exactly happy, but it wasn’t unhappy either. Felicity didn’t quite know how to judge what the older man was feeling. “I suppose that's the best news we could have hoped for,” he said, clapping his son on the back.

Oliver smiled stiffly at his father’s vaguely insulting form of congratulations, then turned to his mother. Felicity had little problem determining what she was feeling. Moira looked deflated, her shoulders slumped, her smile thin.

“Congratulations,” she said, her tone too polite to be genuine. Not that Felicity needed anyone to feel happy about this marriage. She herself wasn’t very happy about it, but Oliver’s stiff posture and weak smile made her wish his parents could at least pretend to be happy for him. After all, they didn’t know the marriage was a ruse.

“Well,” Thea said, hopping up from the sofa, “I, for one, could not be happier. We could use another woman around here.”

“Congratulations, buddy,” Tommy said, slapping Oliver on the back, before turning to Felicity and sweeping her into a hug. She was almost startled by the fervor of his embrace, but she was glad to know she’d been right in her assessment of him. He was good people, and a good friend. When he pulled back he went on, cutting through the awkward tension in the air, “So how’d you meet? How’d he propose? Tell us everything.”

Robert and Moira stepped back, murmuring to one another. It made Felicity nervous, but she was quickly distracted when Thea stepped up beside Tommy, waiting for her to tell the story of how she and Oliver met. The two of them looked so much alike—both with their dark features and eager smiles—that they could be siblings.

After a quick glance at Oliver, Felicity explained that they worked together at Palmer Tech. Oliver chimed in, telling them the same story they’d told the man from Immigration. They’d met at work, fallen in love, and he’d proposed.

“That’s it?” Tommy asked, sounding personally offended that they didn’t have a more interesting story. “You just… asked her?”

Oliver laughed. “How else would you suggest?”

“You have to be romantic!” Thea exclaimed. “Take her to a nice restaurant and have them hide the ring in the dessert!”

“Or the champagne glass,” Tommy added.

“It was fine,” Felicity said, laughing off their suggestions.

Thea rolled her eyes. “Fine is not how you should describe your proposal.”

“Remind me not to come to you guys for suggestions when it’s my turn,” Tommy said.

Thea’s eyes dipped briefly to Felicity’s hand. “So where’s the ring? I noticed you didn’t have one” —she glanced at Oliver— “and you didn’t ask Mom for Grandma’s so…?”

“It was kind of spur of the moment,” Oliver said with a shrug.

“But you said you proposed in March! You still haven’t gotten her a ring?”

Oliver opened his mouth, then closed it, and glanced down at Felicity for help, just as Moira stepped back into the room, followed by Raisa with a tray of champagne flutes. Felicity hadn’t even realized that Moira had left.

“We’ll make sure she has a ring befitting of a Queen,” she said, handing both Oliver and Felicity flutes, before taking one for herself.

Robert raised his glass in the air once everyone had one. “To Oliver and Felicity,” was all he said, before taking a sip.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most awkward situations Felicity had ever gotten herself into, and that was saying something. If it weren’t for Thea and Tommy she’d seriously be considering deportation as the preferable option.

No sooner had she thought that, then Thea grabbed a pen sitting beside a stack of books on the table and used it to clink her champagne glass.

“Kiss!”

“Thea,” Oliver sighed.

“Oh, come on, Ollie. Kiss her!”

When neither of them made a move to do as she suggested, Thea took Felicity’s arm and turned her to face Oliver. She looked up to see he was already watching her with a somber expression. He looked calm, maybe even a little amused—on the surface—but Felicity could see the tension in the way he held himself. She could see it in his eyes as they flicked over her face, measuring her reaction to his sister’s demand.

Felicity shrugged, trying to keep any reluctance she might have felt off her face. She didn’t need Oliver’s family wondering why she freaked out about a tiny kiss. And that was all it had to be, right? Just a peck on the lips.

It took everything in her to push down her nerves and shoot him a small, imploring smile. Her way of asking him to just do it. She nearly jumped when his free hand settled on her waist. He was a perfect gentleman, but his fingertips felt scalding, even through her blouse. Though, she was so worked up right now even Thea’s hand, still on her elbow, was overwhelming.

Oliver leaned forward, stopping just as his nose brushed hers. His warm breath skated over her cheek, but he left a few inches between them, waiting for her to meet him halfway. She pushed up on her toes, pressing her lips against his for a moment before pulling back.

There. That wasn’t so bad. She’d barely even felt it. Both of their lips were chapped from the flight, and, if her lips tingled just slightly where they’d brushed his, that was to be expected.

“Boo!” Tommy cried, and Felicity turned to see him grinning at them. “You call that a kiss? What happened? You used to actually have game, Ollie!”

“Yeah,” Thea agreed, and Felicity noticed that the girl had moved back over by Tommy at some point without her noticing. “That was weak. Give us a real kiss!”

Felicity looked back at Oliver just in time to see him roll his eyes, then he was leaning back in. It was so fast, she didn’t have time to brace herself. His arms, wrapped around her waist, not the gentle way he had before, but full on encircling her waist and tugging her into his chest. She nearly yelped, but he cut her off, his lips descending on hers and stealing her breath. There was a moment where everything stopped, and all she could do was feel. His lips, urging hers to move with them. His strong arms, banded around her back. His chest, warm and solid against hers. She melted, her back arching, free hand flying to his shirt to give her something to grab onto.

He pressed one last kiss against her lips, one she eagerly leaned into, before pulling back. Just enough to rest his nose against hers as they breathed each other’s air. Her hand tangled tighter in his shirt and braced herself to push up again, to meet his lips one more time, but a loud woot! pulled her out of the haze of Oliver’s kiss and back to his parents living room where they were pretending like that wasn’t their first kiss.

Once she was able to clear her head a little, she was pleased to note that Oliver looked just as dazed as she felt. He blinked a few times, before finally he pulled back and putting way more space between them than was probably appropriate. Not that anyone seemed to notice. Thea was actually in the middle of giving them a slow clap.

“Damn, big brother. I think you just got her pregnant.”

Oliver’s ears went bright red, and if Felicity hadn’t been so embarrassed herself, she might have laughed at him too. Instead she chugged her champagne, ignoring the way the bubbles made her want to sneeze.

“I apologize for those two,” Moira said. “Thea and Tommy can be… a bit much when they get together.”

“I can be a bit much all on my own, thank you very much.” Tommy grinned.

Moira’s lips flattened out into a thin line and she shot him an exasperated look, before turning back to Oliver. “Why don’t you bring your… fiancée… up to your room, and let her get settled in, Oliver. She probably wants to freshen up before dinner.”

The words sounded innocuous enough, but Felicity had a gut feeling that they were meant as an insult. Really, though, she’d take any excuse to get herself out of the spotlight right now, even going upstairs to Oliver’s room, so she wasn’t about to complain.

Oliver sighed in what Felicity was pretty sure was relief, turning to take her glass and set it beside his on the table. They said their goodbyes quickly, then she let him guide her from the room, one hand on the small of her back.

“Well, I like her,” she heard Tommy laugh as they made their way through the foyer to the staircase. She tried not to wonder if he was just announcing his own opinion or replying to someone else’s.

#olicity fanfiction #olicity fic #olicity au #the proposal (an olicity fic)

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justicesolutionsofamerica · 4 years

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Biden to Phase Out Privately Run Prisons

by Kevin Bliss

Within the first six days of office President Biden signed the ‘‘First Step’’ executive order preventing the federal Bureau of Prisons (BOP) from renewing any of its contracts with private companies to run its prisons. Activists say the order was nothing more than a token gesture and should have included the Department of Homeland Security’s (DHS) Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE).

Biden campaigned on a platform promising to address problems in the corrections system. He said he intended to crack down on police and prosecutorial misconduct, reduce prison population and increase probation efforts, improve immigration conditions, and stop profiting off of prison privatization. He said he would ‘‘make clear that the federal government should not use private facilities for any detention, including detention of undocumented immigrants.

He had a ‘‘Day One’’ agenda of eliminating the Migrant Protection Protocols or ‘‘Remain in Mexico’’ policy, defining citizenship procedures to assist asylum seekers, and create a task force to reunite separated families. Once in office, he signed the United States Citizenship Act of 2021, largely making good on his promises. He signed orders ending the Muslim ban, fortifying protections for DREAMers, stopping construction on the border wall, and putting a 100-day hold on deportation.

Still, activists said that this was not enough. Opposition has reduced the effectiveness of many of his reforms. A Trump-appointed federal judge blocked Biden’s 100-day hold on deportations, Republicans filibustered the president’s Department of Homeland Security nominee. Alejandro Mayorkas was finally confirmed as secretary February 2, 2021.

On January 26, Biden signed the ‘‘First Step’’ executive order preventing the BOP from renewing any contract with a private company to run its prisons. He said it was a ‘‘first step’’ in stopping private industries from profiting off ‘‘incarceration that is less humane and less safe.’’

Privatization of prisons began in the 1800s and became popular right after the Civil War. But the modern era was ushered in with mass incarceration policies of the 1980s brought about by the “War on Drugs.” It has since turned into a billion-dollar industry where profits are made by maintaining a high population of prisoners and cutting as many costs as possible. This has translated to overcrowded and inhumane living conditions. Statistics show that private prisons see an increased rate of assaults (both on other prisoners and staff), use of force incidents, and lock downs.

There are currently 11 private prisons in the BOP. The Trump administration permitted the Bureau to enter into more private prison contracts than previously allowed. The Courthouse News Service said he doubled the revenues of CoreCivic and the GEO Group, two of the largest private prison industries in the United States.

Senior advocacy and policy counsel at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) Naureen Shah said these groups make a business off of profiting from human suffering. ‘‘These private prison companies have incentive to minimize their costs at the disregard of human suffering,’’ she said, ‘‘and ICE just gets to point their fingers back at private prison companies, saying, well it’s not us, it’s them. That’s sickening.’’

But, activists said that President Biden’s executive order was no more than a symbolic act, it did not go far enough nor focus on the bureau more greatly affected by the abuses inherent in privatization. According to the Associated Press, out of the 152,000 prisoners in the federal BOP today, only about 14,000 of them are housed in private prisons. Although that is down from the 27,000 the Bureau of Justice Statistics recorded in 2019, it is still only 0.7% of the total 2,000,000 people incarcerated in the United States.

Critics say President Biden should have taken this opportunity to enforce the same restrictions on the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) and Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Private prisons hold 75% of all DHS detention contracts, and ICE has detained 50,000 to 56,000 people daily, according to a 2020 ACLU report, 81% of them in private-run facilities.

News outlet The Daily Beast said that to organizations that have fought for immigrant rights, not including the entire carceral system in this order was unconscionable. ‘‘Whether called ‘jail,’ ‘prison,’ or ‘detection center,’ these systems share the same unjust design: to incarcerate people of color, profit off of them, and strip them of their dignity,’’ stated Silky Shah, executive director of Detention Watch Network. ‘‘The Biden administration must now address the private prison industry’s toxic relationship with the Department of Homeland Security.’’

Immigration detention is not even a criminal commitment. It is a civil one and activists believe it is unwarranted, abusive, and discriminatory. Laura Rivera, immigration attorney for Southern Poverty Law Center’s Action Fund and director of its Southeast Immigrant Freedom Initiative said, ‘‘It’s unacceptable for the Biden-Harris administration to exclude immigrant prisons from today’s executive order. The very concept of detaining immigrants is rotten to its core. This is an irredeemable, profit-driven racket that the Biden-Harris administration must address.’’

Banning private prison contract renewals will not release anyone from prison early, and it will be a gradual closing of private-run facilities. Prisoners will be able to be moved to another facility before the one they are in closes. ‘‘They’ll have time to transfer these people from private facilities to non-private ones,’’’ said Fordham University School of Law professor John Pfaff. ‘‘It doesn’t necessarily mean a shrinking of the footprint of prisons, it just means a transfer from privates to the public.’’

At least BOP prisoners will be able to be moved. In facilities that house both BOP prisoners and ICE detainees, the prisoners will be moved leaving the detainees living in the same housing conditions found ‘‘inhumane’’ for prisoners.

GEO Group spokesperson Pablo Paez said the president failed to consider the economic impact this would have on surrounding communities. He called it a ‘‘solution in search of a problem.’’ The BOP had already decided not to renew several of their contracts with private prisons prior to the order.

‘‘[The] executive order merely represents a political statement, which could carry serious negative unintended consequences, including the loss of hundreds of jobs and negative economic impact for the communities where our facilities are located, which are already struggling due to the Covid pandemic,’’ he said.

Moreover, the order does not address the other privatized aspects of prisons. Director of the ACLU’s National Prison Project David Fathi said it is just a start at curtailing the ‘‘insidious practice’’ of privatization. Other areas still need addressing such as private health care in prisons, which Fathi says has been ‘‘the source of much abuse and malfeasance in recent years.’’

Reform advocates concerns that DHS and ICE were not included in this order have been addressed by White House staffers. Although no similar order was planned as of January 26, the two news sources The Daily Beast and POLITICO reported that the White House said it was now considering drafting an order of the same nature for the two bureaus.

Critics also contend that this bill does even begin to address myriad other problems that plague our criminal justice system. Pfaff called it a ‘‘symbolic’’ act. He stated that he hoped this order did not give the false impression that this would solved the issues of profiting from prisons. ‘‘Saying we’re taking the profit out of prisons by shutting down the private facilities ignores the massive amount of [financial incentives] on the public side,’’ he said.

Prison systems can spend up to two-thirds of their budget on such things as salaries, overtime, and benefits. ‘‘That is very much a form of profit that encourages [legislators] to lobby aggressively to keep their prisons open. When you engage in a symbolic act, which [this order] mostly is, you have to make sure the symbolism doesn’t actually undermine the broader message that you need to convey.’’

Holly Harris, executive director of the bipartisan advocacy group Justice Action Network, told Time the order was an ‘‘important and critical step in right-sizing our justice system.’’

‘‘I get that advocates are frustrated, and I’m grateful that there are so many people out that’s pushing for more,’’ she said. Nonetheless, she added that she believed Biden had plans to accomplish a whole lot more. ‘‘For me, I’m willing to extend some grace on day six to this new administration.’’

Sources: time.com, npr.org, nbcnews.com, The Daily Beast

#JSA #FPC #SPA

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