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currentfandomkick · 5 years

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Miraculous Team and the Batboys- Mundane Monday and Plot is Connecting Maybe

HEY so thank you all for waiting, puppy plus work being mobbed is hell, so this took forever to get brain power to write... oh well.

Marinette was on guard when she came into class. Her meeting of the “End Gabriel Agreste” Club with its core four members—herself, Chloe, Nino and Sabrina—went well. They were now 15% away from their goal.

Apparently Felix snatched up 3% on his own and gave it to MDC while she was away. Apparently it was his way of a peace offering… or a bribe not to kill him on sight. She wasn’t sure which… yet.

Properly awake and with her favorite drink (blend of dark roast, cream and a tiny bit of Energy Mayhem Special) she was good for the day. Everyone had their usual orders in their seats.

She raised an eyebrow when she noticed a text from Red Robin on her phone, currently a rose and bird emoji label.

RR: So, scale of one to ten, how bad is it if I accidently figured out your partner?

Marinette took a deep breath at that, checked the classroom (Nino was off with Kitty Section debating how to fix the ‘off’ bit of the rift in Rose’s latest song—something about it not ‘punching right’ and Luka being busy with his other band, Chloe and Sabrina were currently fighting Bustier in her office, Alya was conspiring with the Girl Squad on Lila’s end since she wasn’t in, Max and Kim were obviously eavesdropping on that conversation while Nathaniel was off in his own world). Damian still hadn’t come in, and Adrien wasn’t in yet… she wondered if her Chaton was going to sleep in for once.

LB: Please tell me you haven’t told your team

She kept her breathing steady, not letting panic overtake. That would alert people she didn’t want knowing, to looking, which leads to suspecting and rumors and theories and she’d like to avoid that entirely—especially since she still can’t really lie.

RR: I have a feeling you would kick us all out if I did, so I haven’t.

Marinette sighed, tension leaving her shoulders.

LB: Good. Keep it that way as long as you can, okay?

RR: They’re detectives, once they have the pieces they’ll put it together… also, why is your team so easy to figure out?

Marinette winced at that.

LB: Dumb Magic Rules.

Like the one that training a wielder young will prevent corrupting them to use it for personal gain. Like the one where a Guardian cannot be a True Guardian until they connect to the entire Box or Set of kwami. Like the one where Fu can’t give up being Guardian until she’s fully fledged… and that means until she can reclaim the Nooroo and Dusuu and heal Dusuu’s miraculous. That when she does—when she does Fu is gone.

She kept her breathing steady. nothing that they wouldn’t see as Typical Marinette Fretting Over Orders… not that they knew she had those cleared for the month.

“Good morning Dupain Cheng.”

She put her phone away easily, quick to keep up Typical Marinette (no plotting or superheroing here, just Typical Marinette, Baker’s Daughter and Keeper of Secret Drink Menu).

“Hi Damian, how was your weekend?”

“Annoying.” She winced at that. He didn’t exactly have friends here, and time differences are a horrible strain on them… Maybe Ladybug should keep an eye on him… just in case. “I hope yours was adequate.”

She was really wondering who taught him French today… he was being less him and more… stuffy than usual.

“I just needed some time away...” Honestly, she needed a lifetime away from Bustier and Hawkmoth… Lila was manageable (now).

“I am glad you were able to then.”

She was wondering where her deskmate went and why he wasn’t looking at her… Maybe she overdid it last week? She—no. She is stopping her analysis brain from going off and---

“Hello Marinette,” grinned obviously Not-Adrien. Seriously—how did they all fall for it back then? Body language, facial tics, accent—its all wrong.

She narrowed her eyes, not aware that Damian was doing the same beside her.

“Aw, didn’t you miss me?”

Nino came over then, scrunching up his nose as they both could tell Fake Adrien Agreste from the real one with ease now.

“What are you doing here,” Nino was definitely tired… He was not applying his sleep schedule quiz results at all. She was so lecturing him… lunch. She could pencil it in for lunch after wrecking Felix for taking Adrien’s place for the day.

“Oh, good to see I-Love-You Girl isn’t the only one that grew a brain since I last saw you all.” Felix raised an eyebrow at Damian, lingering. Plotting. “You’re new.”

“American Transfer, leave him out of whatever’s going on in that thing you call a brain.” Marinette was not going to deal with an akuma over this. Nope. She was not dealing with that again—or a series of Akuma… God she was going to kill Felix personally if he did. Chloe was untouchable as the Mayor’s daughter, but him? She could take him down again.

“And where’s my bro?”

“Your precious Ladybug,” He sneered, “didn’t cast whatever she did last time, and he’s home sick since his allergies are acting up. I figured it’d be as good a time as any to pull our old switcheroo to keep his Father-Farthest away.”

Marinette twitched at that. She knew she was forgetting something… She sent a quick text to Red Robin.

LB: Why didn’t you tell me it was Mr. Pigeon irl, not video!

RR: …you thought I figured it out from a video?

Marinette rolled her eyes openly at her phone, ignoring Nino as he threatened Felix with his own brand of Bro Shovel Speech.

LB: detectives, most of our battles are caught a decent amount on video, and most of Paris knows that Mr. Pigeon makes him sneeze. Really not a hard recon.

RR: I think you are overestimating my willingness to watch amateur video at length when I can outsource.

Marinette huffed at that.

LB: So you trusted them to not miss major clues when you were all working on different things and would miss key connections?

RR: we’re on the same page as a team. Plus, I get better info filtered with my apps

LB: Magic Fucks Things Up

RR: I’ve noticed.

She looked up to see Damian staring ahead, and wondered if she did something, or didn’t or—NO! Bad Marinette—no going down Rumination Ruin until its time to sleep. She needs daytime for Plotting, Nighttime for Anxiety and Regrets to run wild.

She kept her attention forward when class began, pointedly Not Talking To The Gremlin but not busting him either—she wasn’t going to get Adrien in trouble. Bustier may not notice the abuse signs, but a few other teachers had, and were given the ‘heads up’ by Nino and Chloe and Sabrina.

Lila was the only one unaware of the switch when she left during lunch to drop off a few deliveries her parents asked her to handle when the rush hit. Mostly to one elderly home, and one to her favorite Rescues Only center.

(if she was seen cooing at Lord Murder—yes she knows that’s a Bad Name but the giant kitty amputee was named that years ago before she was found and stubbornly refuses all other names. So, Lord Murder (Never Lady, she hisses at that) it was.)

She blinked when she saw Damian walk in on her checking the Lord Murder’s prosthetic.

“Hey Damian.”

“Dupain Cheng.”

Marinette nodded in acknowledgement and hoped he didn’t catch her calling Lord Murder “the lord and master of murder, the most deadly kitty in existence, and yes, clearly the most cunning of kitties to manage to scratch Mean ol’ Jean with the new paw when it doesn’t even have claws, because you are The Lord Murder, kitty of cuteness and wrath to all unwanted bath times.”

He was watching her then. “Lord likes you.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow, as yes, her favorite rescue (sorry Chat) likes her. She’s the one who argued them into letting them try out prosthetics and handled the funding (officially as MDC) and may have gone overboard on checking everything from the fits and materials and… yeah, okay, she could admit that the giant fluffy Norwegian Forest home in a millisecond if it wasn’t for the health code violation (soon… Gina mentioned she might stop renting out her old house soon as the current group was only a quick temp and she didn’t want someone else living there that wasn’t like family… and something about her Lost Son using it for the moment. Maybe she could convince Maman and Papa to let her do house sitting is she breaks out the Kitten Eyes.)

“Yes. Yes she does.”

Then Lord slow blinked at Damian. She wasn’t sure if she sould be offended or worry her favorite might be adopted by someone else, or glad that it was a serial pet adopter that actually took care of their pets and would be just as nuts as her about making sure Lord Murder was happy and healthy.

“I see she likes you too.”

She could feel Tikki dying in her bag… yes, she was being… awkward. She got it…

“Anyways, I should get going, still have a delivery to do and all so…”

She didn’t, she just really had no idea how to broach the Awkward that was Damian Greyson at the moment.

“See you tomorrow.”

That got him to pause. “Tomorrow?”

“Uh, gymnastics for the rest of the day, making up for what I missed so…”

“If you see the Other Grayson, tell him he is not to hug you.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow. “I…” Brother, father, maybe cousin or legal guardian or friend of his father’s. Too many possibilities, too much to spiral on that she can’t right now. SO.

“O. okay then.”

“Good.”

Marinette waited for him to leave the room, looking at a Too Amused Lord Murder.

“Don’t you start with me, I know I’m a mess on a good day. And no, I’m not overthinking this time Lord, I’m planning, there’s a difference… And no, its not an Alya Plot.”

Those went sideways too fast.

She left with ease and froze at the text from Red Robin.

RR: Can we meet up tonight? No traces that way.

She sent a time and place and –If no akumas happen.

THANK YOU ALL FOR WAITING. it has been a hellish time at work and extra shifts and war-zone lately on top of Precious Puppy Bonding and Care. As always, edits when I can get there and any comments or things you'd like to see expanded on more, leave a comment and I'll try to work it in if it flows.

As you can see, Plot Lines are converging soon.

Big Question though--what kind of Lila Exposed By Class do we want/are angling for? I can go legal or social backlash, blacklisting from Agreste brand, or some combo, or keep it a background element as I don't like how cannon Lila is written and the characters altered to make her bad lies work, so...

Other inquiry--do we want Dick to see Marinette take down someone (probably trying to rob her) on her way out of her gymnastics place on her way home using a few Obviously MIxed Gymnastics and Specific Brand of Martial Arts that feels oddly familiar to Nightwing who tells Red Robin and for him to groan as 'Coffee Angel, Why!' and then the next day its 'oh. Coffee Angel is also That Woman's Granddaughter. It all makes Sense now.' (as i hc Gina as probably busting a few drug, weapons, and human trafficking rings on occasion as how she met Jason back in the day) OR for him to only see the end as Nightwing and stare as she took them down and used her earbuds as 'makeshift handcuffs' while she's calling Sabrina as "I'm fine, no dodged their hits and yes i didn't get gassed this time... yes I'll let the medics look me over and no i'm not going to vanish before they get here unless Akuma, Yes if that happens i'll go to the hospital after--Look, i think i saw a shadow just move. I'm going on Akuma-mode now so... Thanks!" before running to meet up with Red Robin and have it take meeting Gina and looking between Gina and Marinette and how she responds to Jason trying to spar with her and then it clicks? I can go either way, but... Tim figures them out quick and straight up says at one point "I mean, Queen Bee after Style Queen, inverse colors... I've seen the multiverse, I had her pegged after seeing her in the bakery last week." All while Not Telling The Bats as Marinette's team doesn't even know and he has a feeling (correctly) she'll react Badly if she isn't the one to tell him before he comes clean, and ears her bolting as 'no support, team leader, and often absentee and likely disabled mentor, civilian life was a wreck for two years and her civilian safety net is only JUST reforming... hm. That's Famil--Oh.... well... wait until trust is there and let her move on that front, try not to set her off and offer help in what she'll allow--or risk pissing off the demi-goddess of creation and his Coffee Angel. Which he'd like to avoid, please and thank you.

Yeah, Tim is definitely going to Project on Marinette in this.

Also, I see Jason or Dick as Getting Marinette is InvolvedTM next... and Damian being the one to confirm the suspicions.

Prefer Jason Big Brothering or Dick "New Sister Mode Engaged" to suspect she's a temp hero? (Jason via Have You Seen Her in a Spar--and it's Gina's Granddaughter vs Dick 'Her Moves are Too Familiar, Maybe Ladybug uses her as a Body Double and trains her?' as the first Suspicion Arisen among the Bats.

#maribat #daminette idea au #miraculous team and batboys #my writing #my writings #how do you tag #long post

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they-are-there-upon-his-head · 7 years

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Hi, I just really need to talk about modern AU great Comet hcs Please love me

an unprompted ask?? for me??? this is the content I signed up for

so yeah i’m just gonna make a big ass list of headcanons lemme know what you think,,, i love modern au so much so this is also a long post beware!!!

these are random as hell but are heavy on the Andrierre, which is good and bad because I love this ship but also I haven’t read War and Peace so some of the Andrey headcanons might be dead wrong

and of course feel free to correct and/or add on to this list! I’d love to hear what you guys have to say about this and I’m always up for talking about Great Comet

so let’s begin

Anatole is a picky picky picky eater, he’ll only eat very specific things like That One All-Natural Organic Overpriced Brand Of Mac ‘N’ Cheese™

9 times out of 10 Helene is going to or drinking Starbucks

Dolokhov will eat ANYTHING but he still ends up going to Taco Bell way too often

he drinks too much Mountain Dew

Pierre keeps his shirt on at the beach/when swimming

he only leaves the house to walk to the local convenience store and buy snacks, and the liquor store to buy booze

Marya loves couponing

Dolokhov prides himself on his cool sneakers

Sonya plays the ukulele

she wears a lot of scarves and flannel and loves autumn

Andrey owns a lot of soft gray sweaters

Mary has a really old ipod nano that has like ten songs on it but she listens to it and dances while she cleans in the morning when her father is asleep

Helene wears athletic wear (track pants, cool sneakers, etc) for the aesthetic but isn’t much of a fan of working out

Andrey goes for a run every morning

Natasha uses the dog filter on Snapchat way too much

Balaga wears a weed hat and weed socks

there’s a 99% chance Anatole has texted “send nudes” in the last 12 hours

Pierre has a lot of t-shirts with random bands on them

Marya loves strong coffee

Natasha and Sonya share a room that’s decorated with fairy lights

Andrey works a bunch of jobs and has really weird hours

lucky for him, Pierre never sleeps

so they often go to the local diner together at 3am and get milkshakes and cheese fries

Pierre fucking loves cheese fries

Sonya had a weeb phase

Dolokhov is still in the tail end of his emo phase tbh

Anatole secretly loves Buzzfeed quizzes

Balaga is an uber driver

Sonya watches a lot of Food Network and HGTV

Natasha loves The Bachelor

Dolokhov watches roast videos

Pierre once watched vine compilations for 13 hours straight

somehow word got around that Dolokhov secretly has an embarrassing tattoo (something along the lines of “I love my mom,” perhaps?) but when confronted about it he turned bright red and vehemently denied its existence

Helene wears those Aesthetic™ shirts with random French words on them from like Forever 21 or something

Dolokhov wears Timberlands and track pants and snapback hats

he also wears his socks pulled up high like your friendly neighborhood fuckboy

Natasha has worn the same pair of Uggs for a long time

Balaga unironically wears Crocs (often paired with his weed socks and oversized denim cutoffs)

Dolokhov takes snowball fights very seriously

Andrey can drive but he hates doing it

he bikes to work and around the city

Mary also hates driving, but that’s because she’s deathly afraid of it

Pierre bought contacts but never uses them, he just wears his glasses instead

Dolokhov is really into sports, both watching them and playing them

his favorites are soccer and basketball

he forces Anatole and Helene to watch some games with him and they hate it

they just rate the players’ attractiveness instead and end up talking and wolf-whistling over all the commentary

Dolokhov is annoyed by it at first, but always ends up joining in and marveling at the muscles on these guys! look at those fucking biceps

Natasha visits Pierre once in awhile and brings some gifts and food (usually baked goods that her and Sonya make)

they just sorta hang out and talk and eat, sometimes Pierre makes tea for them and they have a little tea party

Pierre’s very awkward but Natasha is good at diffusing the awkwardness, mostly by talking a lot about nothing

one time she convinced him to let her paint his nails and honestly??? Pierre kinda liked it

he wanted to tell Andrey about it but Andrey still doesn’t seem ready to talk about Natasha

Pierre’s ok with it though, he’ll give it time. Andrey will come around eventually.

Mary swears by medicinal teas and herbs for almost every ailment

she also collects flowers and dries them and hangs them in her room

Dolokhov does parkour

Balaga runs a meme account

Marya has everything you could ever need in her purse, including napkins, Advil, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, tampons, pepper spray, tweezers, Beyonce’s entire discography, the whole city of Moscow, etc

Pierre has a lot of books on the French Revolution

one Valentine’s Day, Andrey got Pierre a locket with Napoleon’s face in it and Pierre was so confused until he opened it and he just looked so pained while Andrey laughed

honestly Pierre thinks it was actually really fucking clever and it’s kinda sweet that Andrey noticed how into the French Revolution he was

also, he had never seen Andrey laugh as hard as he did in that moment and that made it all worth it

Pierre’s favorite TV show is Gravity Falls, though Ancient Aliens is a close second

he also watches reruns of Jeopardy a lot and is surprisingly good at it

sometimes Andrey will watch it with him; Pierre gets all the history stuff and Andrey gets more of the pop culture questions

Helene listens to Lana Del Rey, Dolokhov has a soft spot for twenty one pilots, and Anatole is always a slut for some Britney

Pierre listens to Radiohead and other depressing existential indie/alternative rock

Natasha is a sucker for a good love song, Broadway musicals, or any happy boppy pop song tbh

Sonya loves folk music and anything with string instruments

Andrey is partial to some good 90s grunge rock (Nirvana, Foo Fighters, Weezer, etc)

Marya listens to pop music of the 70s and 80s music, stuff of the “good old days”

boy oh boy can she GET DOWN to Dancing Queen

Mary thoroughly enjoys Christian rock

Andrey secretly loves to dance, he’s one of those people that just kind of loses himself in the music and is just completely in the zone while dancing

honestly??? Pierre’s jealous because 1. how do you relax while there are people around you and 2. how the hell does Andrey still look cool

Pierre is either too self-conscious to dance or he just kind of nods his head to the beat, that’s all he’ll do

(unless he’s alone in which case it’s WILD)

Dolokhov’s dancing is basically just jumping with some fancy footwork once in awhile

Anatole and Helene twerk. c’mon of course they do

one time Natasha tried to teach herself how to twerk and Marya walked in and grounded her for a week

Pierre thinks The Shawshank Redemption is the pinnacle of cinema and will fight anyone who thinks otherwise

Natasha sings in the shower

Anatole loves chick flicks and has a crush on Ryan Gosling

he forces Dolokhov to watch shitty romcoms with him as revenge for Dolokhov forcing him to watch sports

but I mean they’re all curled up on the couch with their arms around each other and Anatole’s crying and Dolokhov’s laughing at him and they’re eating ice cream and takeout from the one place that Anatole actually likes and it’s just them because Helene’s knows that this is just Too Much™ so she left and she’s basically the voice of reason in their friend group and it’s really quite the experience

Pierre was in a really shitty cover band in college

Balaga is always high

Sonya loves oversized sweaters and leggings

Dolokhov has his ears pierced

Helene has a nose ring

not a day goes by when Anatole doesn’t quote Mean Girls

Mary owns a lot of those wooden blocks with random little quotes on them (you know the ones – they’re in any given Marshalls and dearly beloved by suburban wine moms), like “Be happy” and “Jesus loves you” and “You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy chocolate”

one of Andrey’s many jobs is waiting tables at Applebee’s. Pierre has visited him there a couple times and boy did Andrey look dead inside

the only reason Andrey works so many jobs is so he can afford his own place because his father is a piece of shit

Pierre offered to help with the financial aspect of it but Andrey wouldn’t let him pay for it

still, Andrey ends up sleeping over Pierre’s a lot, not that Pierre minds

Old Prince Bolkonsky exclusively watches FOX news and he yells at the TV a lot

he eats the same thing for lunch every day: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he makes Mary prepare

fun fact: Mary is allergic to peanuts

Sonya works at an ice cream parlor and brings home desserts for Natasha and Marya

Marya loves chocolate ice cream, Natasha prefers vanilla with rainbow sprinkles

Sonya is a butter pecan kind of girl, if we’re getting into it (and we are)

Anatole likes French vanilla (it has to be French), Helene likes coffee, and Dolokhov is partial to death by chocolate (or something similar)

Bolkonsky has to have peanut butter ice cream, Mary likes strawberry

Andrey prefers sorbet, but if he had to pick, he’d go with pistachio

Pierre’s favorite is cookie dough

Balaga probably found a way to make weed ice cream tbh

Mary loves scrapbooking

Sonya writes fanfic

she loves to read and wishes she lived in a Barnes & Noble

Andrey and Pierre play video games together and they’ve gotten really good at it

neither one of them likes intense fighting games but they do really like Mario Kart

Andrey plays as Yoshi and Pierre plays as Bowser

Pierre tried to teach Natasha how to play but she kept falling off cliffs

her favorite character is Princess Peach

her and Sonya dressed up as Peach and Daisy for Halloween once and it was really cute

Pierre has worn the same black hoodie for two years

Natasha runs an aesthetic blog

she also writes poetry on said blog

one of Andrey’s coworkers keeps accidentally calling him Andrew and it makes Andrey so irritated

the Kuragins can’t swim

Dolokhov tried to teach them but it didn’t work because Helene’s bikini kept falling down and Anatole wouldn’t go under water because it would ruin his hair

if Andrey goes over Pierre’s during the day, he’ll help him clean the house because Pierre has no motivation to do so

about once a month Marya will stop by and remark how disgusting the house is and before Pierre can even defend himself the whole house has been vacuumed, the windows are washed, the laundry’s done, the clothes are folded, the shelves are dusted, the bathroom’s scrubbed, the beds are made, and there’s fresh flowers on the kitchen table

then they hang out and complain about people to each other and it’s a grand old time

Pierre’s really grateful to Marya, but she refuses to take a compliment

let’s be real though, she relishes in watching Pierre keep saying nice things about her because she keeps denying them and he feels obligated to make her agree

Pierre has a shitty Toyota Corolla from the early 90s that has no AC and is being held together by duct tape and he’s afraid to drive it but too attached to sell it

Sonya has a folder on her laptop that’s just pictures of Tegan And Sara. that’s it

Marya doesn’t know how to whisper

Pierre loves the movie theater but will only go if Andrey or Natasha go with him

after the whole Anatole Fiasco™ Natasha and Sonya blocked Helene on Instagram so she kept making fake accounts until they accepted one of the follow requests

Andrey takes Halloween very seriously

Pierre bites his nails

Helene taught Anatole how to do makeup and now he won’t stop contouring

Anatole takes an obnoxious amount of selfies

Sonya’s wardrobe is almost exclusively from Target

Pierre spends an embarrassing amount of time on Wikipedia

Marya had a flip phone up until a couple months ago when Natasha and Sonya convinced her to get an iPhone

Marya hates it because she doesn’t know how to use it and it makes her feel stupid

but Natasha’s teaching her how to use it and it’s kind of growing on her, it’s just so practical and functional and now she has a pretty red case for it that matches her nails and

Marya goes and gets her nails and hair done every couple of weeks, it’s her mandatory “treat yo’ self” ritual

Anatole pretty much only wears pastel colors

Dolokhov pretty much only wears black (or very very very dark gray)

he has a black jean jacket decorated with lots of pins that he wears all the time

there’s a skull pin and one that says “Jesus hates me” and a Blink-182 one and an Obama one and a gay flag one and an eggplant emoji one and one that says “I love my boyfriend” and it’s fucking iconic

his favorite shirt to wear it with is his Batman shirt

Dolokhov likes DC better than Marvel, Pierre’s the other way around (is that what the duel was fought over??? lmao)

Anatole doesn’t care but he thinks RDJ is hot

Andrey likes both and doesn’t understand why everyone’s so angry about it

Helene has an extensive collection of bralettes

Natasha hates pants and only wears skirts or dresses

Sonya doesn’t think she’s very good at drawing or painting but she still does it anyway because it makes her really happy

Pierre once said “love you” while talking on the phone with Andrey and he didn’t know what to do so he just PANICKED and chucked his phone across the room but he forgot to hang up and it turns out Andrey didn’t even hear what he said after all

ehhh hopefully this is pretty good? it was fun to make and made me laugh while writing it but let me know what you think!! and please add on to this post, i need more modern au headcanons hhhhhh

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sammyhale · 7 years

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J2 VanCon 2017 Main Panel

*Reminder: Always watch convention panel videos (if possible) for full context/details.

J2 ran in from the back, and then did their jump onstage :)

Jensen lost his voice.

J2 point out some of the SPN crew members that are in the crowd and give them some love.

Jared dropped the mic after a fan said she’s been watching since Gilmore Girls and he ran out to give her a hug.

If Jensen could play any female character he would play Baby.

Jared would choose to play Charlie because she’s unique. Loves how she’s into LOTR, Star Wars, etc. Jensen: That’s she’s a nerd, basically. Jared also talks about how he played Meg!Sam and gives a shout-out to the amazing Rachel Miner who is also at the con :)

Jensen says he would play Ruby or Becky if he could play any female character. Jared moves his chair away lol. Jensen then picks Rowena.

The French Mistake and Changing Channels were Jared’s favorite to film.

One of Jensen’s favorite episodes to film was Baby. He feels that it was one of the best episodes they’ve done. He also likes the funny ones, where Dean gets to be more comedic.

After asking what movie genre they would like to do, the fan says that Jensen and Misha should do a romcom. Jared: I’d direct that. Jensen: *laughing* You’ve never directed anything. That’s the scenario it would take??

Jensen jokes that he would do a western or romcom with Misha: “You know what they say, give it to ‘em in a way they don’t expect it.” Jensen says after: “I just threw up a little bit, I want you to know that.” (x)

One of the best places Jensen has been to is Japan because the culture was so different and he appreciates the diversity.

Jensen talks about how Jared acts at restaurants lol.

Fan asks how they think they connect most with their characters. Jensen points to Jared: Hair.

Jared has a tough time believing he can live up to people’s expectations but with our love he’s finally happy where he is. He relates to Sam because they both took a long time finding their role in life.

Jensen said he and Dean share the same moral compass and Jensen has the desire to fight for good and help the helpless.

J2 argue over whether it’s Sam and Dean vs Dean and Sam lol.

LOL Jared started to say Jensen but it sounded like he tried to say Genevieve when he was telling a story so he had to stop and start again.

Fan has a question for Jensen, Jensen: I’m all yours. Jared *fans self*

Jared talks about how he and Jensen helped create their characters.

Jensen opted not to direct an episode this year so he could spend more time with his family.

J2 are arguing like an old married couple and cracking each other up lol.

Where has Dean been keeping the Samulet? Jared: Wouldn’t you like to know.

Butt puns/jokes are now being made lol. Endless ass-puns, including: “Put a plug in this” lmao.

Jensen: This is usually the point on set where they call for a second meal. Jared: Rump roast? :P

Jensen mimes throwing a ball in the air and Jared mimes hitting it with a baseball bat.

Jensen says the Samulet is probably in the trunk lol.

A fan asks J2 about nightmare roles. Jensen says he wouldn’t want to play a role that could be damaging to his health. Jared says he wouldn’t want to play someone who was anti-LGBTQ, White-Supremacist, etc, someone he didn’t see as human.

Jared on not wanting to play a white supremacist, misogynist, or someone who is anti-LGBTQ: “It’s kind of scary to think of trying to humanize someone who has such inhumane characteristics.”

Fan asks if they could write the next season of SPN what would it entail? Jensen: Comfy chair. Jared: Peace. Jared goes on to say that Dean and Sam have to die in the show and that’s the only way they’ll find peace.

Jensen talks about the boys dying, too. Says that Sam and Dean have never had a moment where they looked at each other and said, “We’re done.” He thinks it will be a really special moment.

They haven’t used a green screen since the Looney Tunes episode, aside from scenes in the Impala.

The worst thing Jensen had to overeat on set was the Turducken. Says he had to eat six fake Turducken burgers: “It was not a good day for Mr. Jensen Ackles.”

Jensen says that normally during food scenes when they call cut you can spit it out into a bucket. Jared: “Sexy, huh?” But Jensen had to keep swallowing the burgers because the way the scene was set up with him eating + the dialogue.

Fan: You should direct. Jensen (misunderstanding): Juju the rat? Jared: You should direct juju the rat! lol

Fan: I was wondering how your younger selves would react if you knew the impact you had on the world. Jared: *hugs them tightly*

Jensen: His younger self would not have believed the impact he and his family would have had on the world. Jared agrees and adds “honored.”

They are both honored to be part of this family and community.

Jensen and Rob sing after the last question while Jared dances a bit. Lots of touching and bumping into each other before they head off to sign the banners lol (x.x.x)

Info via: Fangasm, Ash, Kristin, Donna, Anna, Chris, Francis, Sil’s livetweet list

#j2 #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #vancon #spnvan #panel sum #long post #shpost

742 notes · View notes

go-redgirl · 5 years

Text

Trump - Hero F.R. ^ | 5/28/19 | Louis Foxwell

Which president could have survived these attacks? All have had their intrigues and opposition, since Washington. All have had staunch enemies, especially in government. There have been a few who stood strong against the bureaucracy and the not so loyal opposition.

The transfer of power is never peaceful. It is always accomplished with bloodshed, or at least with reputations destroyed.

Trump is in the mold of our strongest presidents. He is fearless, meticulous, and ferocious. His enemies call him weak, careless, and pusillanimous.

In two short years Trump has proven himself a man to be feared, respected, and honored for keeping his word. He has one face that he shows to his friends and enemies alike.

Are these the traits of a tyrant? Hardly. A tyrant does not keep his word. He is duplicitous, untrustworthy, and spills the blood of friends and enemies alike.

Will there come a time when Trump can no longer be trusted? We cannot know what is in his heart. We understand perfectly what is in the words and actions of this man. There may well come a time when he may not be trusted, but we are far from that time if it ever occurs. For now we know with absolute certainty we have a hero in the White House who is worthy of our respect.

Those who oppose him are corrupted by dark agendas. Some are stupid. Others are evil. Many are simply sick of the malice of government and lump all politicians together.

It will be the genius of Trump to cut this Gordian knot and restore trust in a government that serves rather than rules the people.

TOPICS: Chit/Chat KEYWORDS: fawning; hero; trump

__________________________________________

OPINION: Well said!

__________________________________________________________________

INDIVIDUALS COMMENTS AND POSTS:

To: Louis Foxwell Thanks for posting this excellent summary of our president!

2 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:12:43 PM by Grampa Dave (Make Liberals Cry Again by continuing to Make America Great Again! Reelect President Trump in 2020!) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Louis Foxwell When all of this bullshit is over and done with, the American people should have parades nationwide in President Trump’s honor.

3 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:13:14 PM by equaviator (There's nothing like the universe to bring you down to earth.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ To: equaviator Until there is a French 1789 revolutionary cleansing, it will never be over.

It should be plain for all to see that the only way to defeat the progressives is to exterminate them.

There can be no co existence

4 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:16:16 PM by bert ( (KE. NP. N.C. +12)There were Democrat espionage operations on Republican candidates) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Louis Foxwell

When it’s all over, when the dust has settled, when TRUTH-seekers take a careful look at today’s events, Donald Trump will be recognized as the greatest US President in history and one of America’s greatest heroes.

6 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:18:06 PM by Savage Beast (A Manichaean struggle between TRUTH and evil grips America. Pray for the triumph of TRUMP and TRUTH!) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: bert Agreed. Much as I like him I know he is merely a speed bump.

7 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:21:14 PM by 03A3 (FTNFL) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: bert Yeah, and the moon is too good for them, IMHO.

8 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:21:23 PM by equaviator (There's nothing like the universe to bring you down to earth.) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Louis Foxwell

In two short years Trump has proven himself a man to be feared,...”

Not quite yet he hasn’t. He has to to have the top malefactors charged and tried. If he does not or cannot then We the People must. This is as much our job as it is Trumps. Better Men than me died in far away places fo us and I’ll be damned if they died for nothing.

9 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:23:08 PM by TalBlack ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Louis Foxwe

ALL POLITICS IS LOCAL

To save a nation, there’s no place like HOME! Each 7 minutes long PART 1: https://www.brighteon.com/6041988548001 PART 2: https://www.brighteon.com/6041992515001

10 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:23:29 PM by Dick Bachert ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To: Louis Foxwell Quarter pound genoa salami, quarter pound provolone, quarter pound roast beef, quarter pound sliced pepperoni.

Toppings: Castelvetrano and Baresane Olives, San Marzano and Pisanello Tomatoes, salt and pepper, vinegar and oil, lettuce, onions, pickles.

In between 2 slices of Focaccia.

My TRUMP HERO :)

11 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:25:29 PM by dp0622 (The Left should know if Trump is kicked out of office, it is WAR) -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Louis Foxwell :)

Only the best for our President!

And for the first time in a long time the POTUS IS OUR President.

And he is indeed a hero.

14 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:32:42 PM by dp0622 (The Left should know if Trump is kicked out of office, it is WAR)

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To: dp0622 TO CELEBRATE, more especially:

Quarter pound genoa salami, quarter pound provolone, quarter pound roast beef, quarter pound sliced pepperoni - Kosher German.

Toppings: Castelvetrano and Baresane Olives, San Marzano and Pisanello Tomatoes - Tuscany; salt and pepper, apple vinegar and virgin olive oil, lettuce, vidalia onions, kosher pickles.

In between 2 slices of Rosemary, garlic Focaccia with a thiick twist of Bella Sun Luci Sun Dried Tomatoes Julienne Cut in Olive Oil (Original Version).

My TRUMP HERO :)

VIVA TRUMP!!

17 posted on 5/28/2019, 4:46:18 PM by Louis Foxwell (The denial of the authority of God is the central plank of the Progressive movement.)

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0 notes

laryna6 · 7 years

Text

So I have now written about 8K of HP fic that is basically worldbuilding. I have no idea what to do re. turning this into a fic. I’m like ‘I don’t want to revise and watch a movie to figure out the character voice!’ So have a dump of the draft.

It’s not the Harry grows up and deals with how the treated the Dursleys ‘verse, but an alternate present where the whole Albus/Gellert thing where Gellert didn’t love him but still threw a duel that lost him a war and went to prison for the rest of his life instead of killing Albus with the Elder Wand resolved more sensibly because people were more realistic about the results of a sudden wizard reveal and were like ‘yeah there would need to be PR and our society would need to suck less so the muggles don’t think we suck what do you mean the purebloods want to criminalize homosexuality to get those pureblood wizards breeding and increase our numbers?’ and so you had the Wizarding Sixties instead of a World War-equivalent.

Of course Harry believed in magic. Everyone in England believed in magic.

Of course they did: Merlin was one of the founding heroes of the high kingdom that made England England, the protector of King Arthur. England was protected by magic to this day, like during the Blitz, how bombs kept falling on places that had already been bombed and people somehow survived without a scratch.

Everyone knew that people in hospitals got better around Halloween, to the point the NHS let cancer patients from the rest of the EU come around then, since there usually weren’t that many people that sick in England. It got them a lot of money.

The pagans might believe that it was the spirits of ancestors coming to check up on their descendants during the harvest festival instead of witches on broomsticks, but everyone agreed that either way, it was magic.

There was an old lady across the street, Ms. Figg, with tons of cats, which meant she might be a witch and so everyone was very respectful to her.

Aunt Petunia had lovely witch-themed jewelry that she wore to remember Harry’s mum. She told him and Dudley about his mum in a hushed voice by candlelight, how she was a witch and brewed potions that cured people and had even married a wizard like Merlin. How Harry might grow up to be a wizard and then the Evans would have two witches in the family, and since Dudley’s aunt was a witch he should be proud and needed to get married and give Petunia grandchildren because whether or not he was a wizard, there was magic in his blood and he might be the proud father of another witch.

At this point, they were all pretty sure that Harry was a wizard. Either that or his parents’ spirits were watching out for him, which would be just as good.

The trouble was that wizards were all wise and noble, so Aunt Petunia didn’t let him get away with anything and he had to study more than Dudley, and herbs and stars and stuff too, because there was a wizard school and his Mum had to learn a lot about wizard stuff in a hurry because she hadn’t had the right education growing up and his Aunt didn’t want him to struggle and get looked down on.

Dudley had extra lessons and stuff too, because that was only fair, but he got to learn martial arts and compete in junior league tournaments already. Being a wizard who didn’t know how to do magic yet didn’t get you trophies the way being a little knight did. Harry felt that was hardly fair.

Then the day came that Aunt Petunia had marked on the calendar, and there was a real live owl that let him feed it the fillet mignon Uncle Vernon had bought special. They gave his reply to the owl, and the next day there was another letter asking when they wanted to have a real life witch or wizard come over to tell them things. Aunt Petunia whispered to them that she could tell Harry what he needed to know and take him to get his school things because of his Mum, but did he mind letting Dudley meet a real live witch?

Of course not! This meant Harry got to see one sooner too.

The witch was a wizard, a handsome silver-haired man with a knightly bearing that made Harry and Dudley look at each other thinking, ‘He’s just like Merlin in the story books!’

He knew Aunt Petunia, which instantly made Harry’s aunt ten times cooler, and apologized to her about coming instead of a professor, but they had so many young witches and wizards this year that the professors were swamped visiting people who didn’t have relatives who knew about magic and Albus hadn’t wanted to keep Lily’s family waiting.

He also had the paperwork for Harry to attend wizard summer school so he got to explore the wizard school before actual classes started and learn about how a proper wizard acted. It sounded so much less boring than the class Petunia made them go to to learn the waltz and foxtrot and act like Proper Young Gentlemen with the word wizard attached! Also he got to go there through the fireplace!

And they got to go to the wizard shopping district.

Every town had herb shops and a place where people could buy old-fashioned brooms and cauldrons and books on old-fashioned English cooking, before the Empire when everything became tasteless roast beef that let the French make fun of them. Every ice cream parlor had flavors like Dragon’s Blood and Halloween Pumpkin and Witch’s Brew. Tons of kids had wands for playing magic, and Harry had tried to cast tons of spells he made up with his, hoping something would work.

This place had a wand shop with wands that had sparks come out! And a flying broom store with a broom that had a chain on it for kids to try if they hadn’t gotten to fly on a broom before.

They’d gone to the bank with real goblins first, though, so Uncle Vernon could exchange some money and Aunt Petunia could get the money for Harry’s things out of his trust vault. Then the man they were with apologized, saying he needed to get something and they could wait here or they could ride with him through the caverns and it was wicked.

Getting fitted for wizard robes might have been boring, but they were wizard robes and there was a real wizard in there who guessed that Harry must not have grown up a wizard because Draco knew everyone (and that was the coolest name every) and without Harry getting a word in edgewise said that he was attending the summer school to help set a good example and Harry should come to him if he needed help with proper behavior because it was his family duty to look after the common people. Like a wizard knight, even if he was a bit snooty!

“Ah, Arthur!”

“You asked me to meet you, my lord?”

“No need to be so formal, I’m not wearing that infernal judge’s wig at the moment. Vernon, this is Arthur Weasley. He’s the head of the Non-Magical Artifacts office, and he has a keen interest in non-magical technologies and manufacturing techniques that made him a good pick for the job of studying how to apply magic to them responsibly and keep things like teapots some witch enchanted to pour tea for her old Mum from ending up in the general population and giving someone a heart attack. Arthur, this is Vernon Dursley.”

“I remember you from the wedding!” Arthur said, smiling brightly. “You married Lily’s sister, yes?”

“Yes,” Uncle Vernon said, holding out a hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet you then.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t have eyes for anyone but Molly at my wedding either.”

“Vernon is the head of a drill manufacturing plant.”

“The making of tools used to make tools!” Arthur grinned, practically sparkling. “I’d love to hear about your work.” His face fell. “I wanted to stay in contact with you and Petunia afterwards, but…”

Vernon waved away the apology. “Better safe than sorry dealing with those continental wizards… no offense,” he told the old man quickly.

“No offense taken. Why do you think so many of us came to England?” he rolled his eyes.

“Should I assume that you’re here because of…”

Vernon nodded, but the old man held a finger to his lips and Arthur nodded quickly, looking a little embarrassed. “It is a relief, but I won’t say anything more.”

“Oh, don’t say that,” Vernon said, clapping him on the back. “It’s not often someone says they want to hear me talk about my work. Far too many people take drills for granted.”

“No!” Arthur looked shocked.

When they went into the bookshop Vernon and Arthur remained outside with the old wizard to keep chatting about work. Harry caught Dudley rolling his eyes a moment before Petunia said, “Why don’t you two look around for something interesting while I get Harry’s school things. Just remember, Dudley, your book has to be something that it’s alright for you to show our friends.”

“Yes Mom,” he said quickly, before darting a glance at Harry and the two of them dashed for the fiction section, passing a bushy-haired girl their age staring in delight as books flew around her.

“And I’ll take this,” the old wizard said once the clerk was done ringing up Petunia’s purchases. “Here you go, boys,” he said, handling The Tales of Beedle the Bard to Dudley. “Now I believe there’s a knight in at least one of these stories.”

Dudley opened the book and started flipping through it as they walked out of the store, Harry leaning to look over his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you just recommend it to me?” his aunt asked.

“Albus wanted me to pick up something as interest on all those late birthday presents, and he loves that book.”

Most of the adult wizards at the school dressed in black robes, same as the uniform cloak. Except for Hagrid, who wore tough clothes to deal with the invisible animals or everything.

The headmaster wore a cloak all colors of the rainbow and there was a smiley-face and a peace sign button pinned to his hat, so the first time Harry saw him he knew he was a hippie.

There were a lot of them in England, what with Stonehenge and the magical tradition and everything. His parents didn’t quite approve of them, but they made Uncle Vernon’s headache tea and the one kind of yogurt Aunt Petunia liked. Harry quite liked the commune in the town commons because they encouraged them to play with the animals and he’d ridden a horse once (only once: they were big and lots of other kids wanted to have a go).

“I’d love to tell you ‘welcome to Hogwarts!’ But I can’t say that quite yet, you see. You’ll be here on the first day of school: right now we’re smuggling you in so you can get a sneak peak.” He held a finger to his mouth, as though he was telling them to keep a secret. “This first week, you’ll be assigned to groups with professors showing you around and filling you in on whatever they think is good for you to know before you come to class. After that, in the mornings you’ll have lessons and after lunch you’ll be able to pick who to go with. Ms. Price will escort a group to the library every day; Hagrid will be taking you to explore more of the grounds; Argus will be teaching you how to navigate the school; and Professors Sprout and Snape will be available to take you to the greenhouses and potions lab to work with you to make sure you know how to stay safe around magical plants and potions. I highly encourage everyone to go with each of those groups at least once. It’s very easy to get turned around when the moving stairs turn around, you see.”

Harry didn’t want to be late for class when it was magic class.

“Professor Lupin, Madam Hooch and the other professors will also be taking groups some days: they’ll let you know their schedules. We may also have some mysterious guests!”

“Alright everyone, time to put on your blindfolds,” said Hagrid. “They’re all on? Here we go.” He rang a gong, the sound reverberating in the huge stone chamber. A door grated open, and Harry heard something moving closer. “Now, this ‘ere is Slytherin’s basilisk, the protector of Hogwarts.”

“Even more tiny wizards than last year,” the snake hissed, sounding pleased. “My hatchlings must be having large, healthy clutches.”

“Who wants to feed her?” Hagrid asked, sounding excited.

Harry thrust his hand up in the air before realizing that Hagrid couldn’t see him. “Me, sir!”

“Ah, Harry!” Hagrid said cheerfully. “Reminded me of your dad, you did. Come over towards me, and I’ll hand you a hunk of venison.” Harry did, and Hagrid turned him around afterwards and pushed at his back. “Walk a bit closer to her, and hold it up in the air. This’ll give her a chance to smell you too, so she knows you’re one o’ hers.”

Harry did, and stopped when he felt cool air on his face.

“A Potter,” the snake said thoughtfully.

“Yes, my name’s Harry Potter,” he told her.

“You can speak a civilized tongue, child?”

“I’m sorry ma’am, I don’t know what you mean.”

She hissed softly, thoughtfully. “I smell a bit of Salazar’s magic on you, but not his blood. Curious.” The venison was lifted from his hands, and he heard her gulping it down. “Come visit me again, hatchling.”

“You can understand her when she talks?” Hagrid asked.

“Yes? She wants me to visit her again. I understood a python at the zoo once too. Is that weird?” Harry asked him, as some of the kids behind him began to whisper.

“It’s a rare gift, that is. One of the founders of Hogwarts had it, it’s how he was able to tell a basilisk to protect the school. Raised her himself, ol’ Salazar did. Didn’t care a bit about how dangerous she was,” Hagrid said proudly. “But you’ll hear more about the founders in History. Right, now back up Harry, time for someone else to get the chance to introduce themselves.”

Harry wasn’t the first, second or even the third student called up by the Deputy Headmistress during lunch. According to Ron, she was telling everyone about Career options they might not have thought of, so they had some idea of the variety of things and how to figure out what they might want to study a few years later when they could choose electives.

So he followed her out of the great hall, and down the staircase that appeared after she said, “Sweet Tarts” to a stone gargoyle.

“Harry!” the handsome old wizard said cheerfully, waving by a chair next to the Headmaster’s desk, where Albus sat twinkling at them.

“Now,” Albus said once the door shut behind Minerva, “You’ve probably heard a bit about what happened when you were a baby.” He gave Harry a regretful look. “Gellert thought it might be best for us to sit down and have a talk with you about it, so you weren’t relying on hearsay.”

“Hermione read me the stuff in the history books, although Draco said a lot of that’s rubbish,” but even though Harry had heard about it from them, he still moved forward trying to hide how eager was to sit at the chair in front of the Headmaster. He wanted to hear more about his parents.

“Well…” Albus started.

“Yes,” Gellert interrupted. “The textbook-makers want to sell to the American wizards, who don’t allow enchanted printing presses because they’re no-maj technology, but also refuse to teach children history that urges contact with non-wizards. The real historians are gathering interviews and documents but don’t want to write about the war until enough time has passed to be able to analyze its effect on society, and the people who have written firsthand accounts don’t want to publish them until they can give those who fought beside them credit by name without inviting their assassination. So even a witch as bright as Hermione who doesn’t have family who fought in the war she can ask as Draco does is stuck with English Wizarding History books that give it a brief half-chapter summary at best.”

“That rather sums it up,” Minerva agreed, looking disapproving at the state of things for a moment. “Gentlemen, if I may?”

“Of course, Minerva.” Albus nodded his head. “It’s yours to dispose of.”

“Mr. Potter, stand up.”

Harry Potter stood up straight quickly. “Yes, Professor.”

She took out a piece of fabric and swirled it around his shoulders. “Wicked,” Harry breathed when he realized he could see through it.

“Mr. Potter, what I have just given you is an invisibility cloak. The invisibility cloak. It was given to me by your father so that in the event of his death it would find its way to me and could be used to rescue you, if it came to that. Now it is yours. It has been passed down in your family from the time when the Potters were the Peverells.”

“The Peverells?” Harry asked, pulling the cloak off his head so that she could see him looking at her.

“Like in the book I brought you,” Gellert agreed. “It was a project of mine and Albus’ when we first met, to track down the Deathly Hallows.” He held up his wand, and the headmaster held up his hand. On the same finger as Aunt Petunia’s engagement ring was a ring with a large black stone. “Unfortunately, we made enough noise while looking for them that others began to take their existence more seriously.”

“The magic within them is unique and very tied to karma,” Albus went on. “Killing and injuring others builds up negative karma, until fate is so tilted against the bearer of the Elder Wand that no matter how hard he tried to hold on to it, it will be taken from him and he will die by the sword he wielded. Commanding the souls of the dead to appear without thinking of their welfare is disrespectful at best, often cruel. The third brother could have used the cloak for foul purposes, but instead he only used it to prolong his life, and in the end sacrificed it and his life for the sake of his child.”

“In other words, boy, use that cloak to harm someone instead of protect them and,” Gellert mimed slitting his throat. “But, your father gave it to Minerva hoping that would save your life, and it may very well have. I myself would probably be dead by now if this thing and Albus hadn’t force me to consider my actions very carefully.”

“What do you mean about my father?” Harry asked.

“The cloak is the least dark of the three Hallows by far, and that may be because generations of Potters have given up its power for the sake of their children,” Minerva told him. “It was too reckless to give something like this to an infant, when you would die if no one could find you to feed you or take care of you, so your mother helped him create a ritual to give the cloak to me as your proxy, until you were old enough to begin to exert some control over your magic.”

“How would that save my life?”

Minerva looked at the two men. “I’m afraid that groundless theorizing isn’t my field.”

Albus smiled. “Minerva’s wonderfully practical,” he agreed. “Gellert and I each have a theory: it could be either, but most likely both factors were at work.”

“The Dark Lord of Running Away from Death tried to cast a magic that works by seeking the soul and binding it to death on the child of a family whose magic has been entwined for generations with a magical artifact that conceals them from death itself. When he cast Avada Kedavra on you, the spell might have worked perfectly well, but death simply wasn’t able to take you. That’s an oversimplification,” Gellert said, flicking his fingers. “I can lead you through the logic once you’ve taken some arithmancy and Ancient Runes. The correspondences give you a very solid advantage over his magic.”

“Another possibility is that by giving up the cloak, and by laying down her life to protect you, both of your parents gave up their lives so that you could live and be safe, Harry,” Albus told him gently. “Love is one of few powers stronger than death, and the mystical correspondence to the passing of the cloak could have channeled that power in a way that let them save you.”

“You’re saying it like… why would he kill them to get to me?” He was just a baby, when his mother was a brilliant witch and his father a brave wizard.

“There was a prophecy that could have applied to any number of children, but only two of them were born to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. He likely chose you as his nemesis because you were a half-blood: your mother was born among non-wizards.”

“Lord Coward is also a halfblood,” Gellert said, rolling his eyes. “And that muggle who took over Germany had neither blond hair nor blue eyes. It says something about how brain-dead racial supremacists are, that they fail to realize they’re proposing pogroms that would put their own heads on the chopping block.”

Albus paused. “I’m not sure if I should let that insult slide because you’re insulting him, or scold you for using a slur in a way that implies that everyone who isn’t a wizard is like him.”

Gellert winced. “Sorry, dear.”

“We’ve been having this conversation for decades. You are a role model, you know. Don’t encourage people to act the ways you find so idiotic and then complain about how those attitudes would have been stamped out already if other wizards weren’t such fools.”

“Yes, that is the problem with being geniuses like us. The mind is the ultimate weapon, and the sharper it is the more damage you do if you cut yourself,” Gellert said, tapping his fingers together thoughtfully.

“In any case, Mr. Potter,” Minerva said, a slight crease between her eyebrows indicating her annoyance. “You survived the Killing Curse that has been certain death since the time of the Ancient Greeks, and the backlash somehow took down a wizard with a level of power only seen a handful of times in a century; the charisma to convince some deluded old fools that he could get their heirs to come back into line; the intelligence to puzzle out the darkest of magics and the complete lack of not just principle but sense required to split his soul into fragments.”

“Voldemort is not dead, I’m afraid,” Albus said, and it was the first time Harry had heard anyone just come out and say his name. “He fled to the continent, to one of the many conservative wizards there. Almost three quarters of a century ago now, Gellert and I led progressive movements in Britain and Eastern Europe. The young wizards and witches who joined us in working towards ending the abuse of people who couldn’t defend themselves against magic and eventually having open and honest relations with our neighbors have grandchildren now, but wizarding folk can live a very long time.”

“And some children saw advantage in currying the favor of their parents by being outspoken about their desire to pick on people not their own size, or wanted to keep buying into an ideology that told them that they were born superior, even though that meant they never had truly had the chance to become great on their own merit, if it was simply what was expected of them.”

“England has advanced so far that I’ve had the pleasure of my students pointing out that sometimes I myself fail to do a good enough job of defying the way I was brought up,” Albus said, sparkling. “But we managed to escape some of the Continent’s social problems thanks to Helga Hufflepuff. Classism in Wizarding Britain is far less entrenched, partially because the pureblood mania caused even the most ‘common’ families to be desirable marriage partners. Treating wizards as worth less than other wizards makes it harder to get people to stop treating non-wizards as worth less than wizards. Those poor people who grow up thinking they’re near the bottom of the social ladder can feel like they’re losing power if the rung below them is no longer below them, instead of seeing it as destroying the system that keeps them down as well.”

“Wonderful woman, Helga Hufflepuff,” Gellert said, smirking. “Clever, evil, effective woman. If she was alive I might leave you for her, Albus.”

The headmaster propped his chin on his hand, looking thoughtful but with one side of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Yes, that would be understandable,” he agreed.

“Gentlemen, the boy is eleven.” Minerva folded her arms.

“No flirting in front of the children, Minerva?” Albus raised an eyebrow in slight surprise.

“When have I ever said that?” She demanded. “Keep flirting in front of the children, how are they supposed to learn how to make a marriage work for a century or more without examples? Stop turning this into another discussion about your social movement, Gellert, and let Albus simplify it for Harry.”

“Lord Voldemort still exists, although he is no longer alive and much reduced in power. Your mother’s family’s love for you kept you safe and hidden when you were younger, Harry, but you are now at the age where your magic is shifting over from devoting all its power to protecting you to giving you conscious command over it and no longer acting on its own. That will make you increasingly vulnerable until you learn how to protect yourself. Because it was built to shepard children through those years, Hogwarts is the safest place in all of Britain, and Gellert will also be staying here as much as possible and commuting to handle both his duties and some of mine that aren’t related to Hogwarts so you have one more protector.”

“Oh?” Gellert asked, when Harry frowned, puzzled.

“Hagrid said that too, that Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain. Wouldn’t it be the bank?” Not that Harry wanted to be locked up in a bank vault.

Gellert and Professor McGonagall chuckled. “You’re a sharp little one, wondering what’s so safe about this place and its death forest, greenhouses and pens full of things that will kill you and Rowena Ravenclaw’s attack staircases.” Gellert smirked.

“Accidental magic is also known as subconscious magic, while spellcasting is conscious magic,” Professor McGonagall explained. “Having magical threats nearby keeps subconscious magic from slacking off, so it will keep protecting you as long as possible. In addition to that, when a young witch first encounters a danger, it’s normal for her to freeze or panic. When she encounters the same danger a second time, however, she’ll know it’s possible for her to handle the matter, so she won’t have to wrestle her emotions into submission before she can deal with the problem. Experiencing dangers for the first time while still protected by strong subconscious magic allows children to learn to handle them with confidence. Your parents were Gryffindors, Mr. Potter. By the time they graduated, they had the composure of veterans, able to fight without a second’s warning or hesitation even in the face of a Dark Lord.”

“Right now you could jump off a cliff and while your subconscious might allow you to get banged up a bit to teach you not to do that again, you would not suffer any permanent damage,” Gellert said, shrugging. “The Coward Lord used Avada Kedavra on you because it takes magic that strong to kill a baby wizard.”

“Young wizards are very like dragons,” Albus agreed. “Dragons are very resistant to spells even though they can’t cast any of their own, because all their magic goes into keeping them safe from their own magical fire and allowing them to fly. It takes so much magic to overcome that resistance that even the strongest spells are weak enough they’re nothing but nuisances by the time they penetrate a dragon’s skin. It takes very powerful magic to permanently harm a wizarding child even as old as thirteen. During the school year, Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain because in addition to the wards and the Founder’s other precautions, in addition to the professors, myself and Gellert, there are also five hundred wizarding children thirteen and younger under this roof, their powers constantly working to make this place safe for them.”

“That protection goes away during the age of fourteen for most purposes, but it’s not until fifteen that a witch can hurt herself with her own magic, or her magic can be turned against her.”

“There is a condition where a young wizard’s magic can turn against them,” Gellert added. “It will lash out at things around them, but it can’t actually hurt them until they turn ten or eleven and the first loose fragments of their magic are no longer incapable of harming them. Not that this applies to anyone in Britain,” he added when Minerva glared at him for going off-topic.

“As soon as the school year starts, you’ll be taking Defense with Professor Lupin. Who, it just so happens, knew your father.” Albus smiled. “By the time you reach fourteen, even outside Hogwarts and your step-parents’ home, you should be able to protect yourself until an adult can reach you. According to the prophecy, just by existing you severely weaken Voldemort, so hopefully the aurors will be able to deal with him well before you graduate.”

“What if I don’t want someone else to deal with him?” Harry wanted to know.

Gellert and Minerva looked at each other. “Gryffindor,” Gellert said, smirking. Minerva just loosened her reserve enough to allow a flicker of a smirk.

“I mean, there is a prophecy, right?” Harry added sheepishly. “If I’m supposed to defeat him, then wouldn’t people just get killed if they try to fight him instead of me?”

“Look where paying too much attention to prophecies got Lord Vol de Morte,” Gellert pointed out. “Not that I know where he is right now, or I’d be there instead of here…”

“I promise that I’ll discuss the prophecy with you after your fifth year,” the headmaster told him. “If matters haven’t been resolved by that point, that’s when we will no longer be able to guarantee your protection, and if you take divination you’ll be able to interpret the prophecy yourself. Gellert is right that reacting without thinking right after hearing a prophecy tends to lead to the worst interpretation coming true. Try to avert a prophecy and you’re opposed by very powerful magic. If you accept fate and work to fulfill the prophecy in the way that best suits you, then it’s possible to harness that magic.”

“He will not get away with what he did to your parents, Harry,” Minerva said coldly. “We can promise you that, even if I’m afraid that if you want him to die by your hand, you’ll have to get in line.”

On Wednesday of the next week, the children were divided into two. Harry was in the same group as Hermione, but Ron and Neville were in the other group.

They were led to a classroom with “History of Magic” on one blackboard and “Muggle Studies” on the other.

After they sat, Gellert followed them in.

“Hello, children,” he told them. “I’m sure you’ve figured out that we divided you into the children raised only in the wizarding world, and those of you have either split your lives between the two worlds, were raised entirely unaware of magic or fall somewhere between the two. My name is Professor Emeritus Gellert Grindelwald.” He paused to write it, half on each blackboard, “And because I’m the headmaster’s husband I have this opportunity to expose you to what many conservative wizards consider propaganda.” He smirked at them as though he was playing a trick on people who deserved it and he was giving them a chance to be in on it.

“As muggle technology increases, wizards throughout the world have been separating themselves and their lives more and more from those without magic. This can be seen in how history at Hogwarts was divided into History of Magic, a required course, and Muggle Studies, an elective.” He underlined that title. “The history of 99.9 percent of the human race and it was an elective, despite the fact that wizarding history makes very little sense and is very boring outside of the broader picture of what was happening worldwide. When historians began to look at the two together, it was amazing how many of the great questions of Wizarding history suddenly had obvious answers.

“Separation breeds fear. It breeds ignorance, and we fear what we do not understand. When we are afraid, it becomes natural either hide ourselves away, or try to convince ourselves that the other is weak and easily subdued… which is then ‘proven’ in ways that anger the other party. It is not possible for wizards to hide forever. This last century has seen unprecedented innovation in all aspects of magic, thanks to geniuses like myself and Albus and the hard work of people like Dr. Newt Scamander and Hogwarts’ own Professor Sprout. It’ll be confirming my hard-earned reputation for arrogance when I say that people like these,” he pointed at the names he’d written down, “are one in a thousand.” He looked across the room. “How many ‘one in a thousand’ innovators are there in six billion people? The rate of progress among muggles has always outstripped the development of the magical world by far. They simply have more people than we do, and now that they’re educating more women and not leaving potential geniuses untaught because they were born into the wrong race and class, they’re going to be able to take more and more advantage of the wealth of talent they possess.

“Eventually,” he said, beginning to pace across the room, “Muggle technology will progress to a point where they will be able to find us and do much of what we wizards can do. Many wizards see this as the end of our world. It is not. It is the only way our world can survive. If a muggle can levitate a book with a device,” the teacher said, lifting Hermione’s copy of Hogwarts, A History with a wave of his hand, “then why should they care that some people are born able to do it? Rather, they will care, but not because they find witches and wizards terrifying. Because magic is fascinating, and the desire to discover is the best part of human nature. At that point, we will have access to the muggle talent pool, and be able to explore frontiers of magic yet undreamed of. I truly hope I live to see that day.”

He looked out at them. “Previous generations in this very country hated and feared magic. Is there anyone in this room who didn’t wish at some point in their life that they could grow up to be a wizard or witch?”

No hands were raised.

“You children are a vitally important part of the future of magic. Someday, you and your families will be the bridge that connects the two worlds. That helps give non-magic hospitals regular access to magical medicine and healers access to muggle science and research techniques to improve treatments. But I’d rather tell you now so that it doesn’t come as a surprise later: some adults are not very bright.”

Muffled laughter from somewhere in the room.

“A great many wizards are terrified of muggles finding out we exist, despite the fact that muggles do know we exist. The Ministry of Magic is in contact with the British Government, and is… in an odd legal situation, something like a Commonwealth nation, because your wizarding nation’s charter was drawn up by Arthur and Merlin and a great many later parts of the common law and Magna Carta don’t apply to you. To the kind of people who are terrified of muggles and yet at the same time convinced that they can play tricks on Muggles without consequence, the very existence of people like you is a danger to the wizarding world. Even Salazar Slytherin, one of the founders, thought Hogwarts taking on muggle-born students was hazardous – although please, don’t let that prejudice you against Slytherin House. You’ll be covering this early in History, but Slytherin felt that way at the time for historical reasons that don’t apply to the modern world.

“Wizarding Britain has been on the forefront of setting up the groundwork for open contact between our two worlds for decades. Around the time you were born, we fought a war to save our future. Your future.

“You’ll hear the time between the two World Wars referred to as the Wizarding Sixties. The first World War made a lot of wizards start to realize that muggles could be a threat to us, and the resulting reactionary nonsense was ‘a total drag.’ We young people had our liberties vastly restricted, and it was hardest on people who didn’t want to marry and start producing children at absurdly young ages – before that time traditional wizards did not have children before the age of forty, when they were certain their powers were firmly under control. The fad of couples having children in their twenties left a great many pureblood women unable to ever have a second child.

“All this interest in bloodlines led to the discovery of the Gaunt family, descendents of Salazar Slytherin, who was claimed by the pureblood supremacists as an ideological forebear despite the number of half-bloods and muggleborns who have been sorted into Slythering over the centuries.” He rolled his eyes. “Because of their rampant inbreeding, the father and son were practically squibs, and the daughter had been kept from attending Hogwarts – her father lied and told her that she was a squib to keep her from questioning this – and… Albus will make me sleep on the couch if I go into too much detail on Merope’s childhood. Being swept off her feet, taken to London, given decent clothing and promised remedial instruction in magic should have been the happiest day of her life… except that she had fallen in love with a local muggle, Tom Riddle, who already had a girlfriend and she did not wish to marry.

“Her protector seemed to accept this, and she was allowed to mingle with Wizarding Society until hopefully she got over her broken heart and found someone… And then it seemed as though she did.

“None of us realized that she was being given love potion.

“When the child was almost born, the father became so convinced that his bride had to love him, in all his pureblood glory, that he finally gave in to the family healer’s frantic begging and took her off the love potion. She seemed willing to stay, and it seemed as though he would have his perfect heir…

“But poor Merope grew up in an abusive home. She knew how to hide her true feelings from her captor, and she now knew that there was a world outside the door and friends who would help her. She’d been taught a number of useful charms by fellow witches in case her father and brother ever were let ouf of Azkaban and came after her. She was able to escape.

“Unfortunately, the stress of her escape and exhaustion of her crippled magic triggered premature labor, and in her pain and exhaustion she somehow ended up taken to a Muggle orphanage to give birth, where she perished, but not before naming the child after the man she’d wanted for his father.

“Tom Riddle was found eleven years later, when his Hogwarts letter came. Growing up a poor orphan, he responded to the overtures of his father and returned to the bosom of that family.

“Then after graduating Hogwarts he killed them all. Which, understandable.” Grindlewald shrugged. “However, it wasn’t out of a son’s love for his mother. His conception under love potion left him incapable of love. This is not the same thing as someone who will never fall in love – I myself am aromantic and that hasn’t kept me from having a close relationship with someone I hold very dear. My heart has never fluttered. I have never dreamed of kissing anyone in the moonlight. But I could be emperor of the world, and I would throw the crown in a midden to keep my husband safe. Love is one of the fundamental forces of magic. I don’t really have the sense for it, that’s more my husband’s field – blasted hippie,” he said affectionately, “But Albus sees the good in everyone and when he went to speak with the boy to tell him he was a Hogwarts student his skin was crawling the entire time. At the time, I thought it was hilarious – I wrote him back asking if this meant that he understood now that he shouldn’t be so sympathetic to everyone and would stop telling me to have mercy on people who didn’t deserve it – but I was in Europe and didn’t meet the boy until he was a man and we were on opposite sides of a battlefield.

“Lord Voldemort, ‘the flight from death,’ and his supporters will tell you that he fights to restore ‘pureblooded’ wizardkind to their ‘rightful place of supremacy.’ He lies,” Grindelwand stated firmly, sweeping his gaze across the room.

“If he fights a muggle-born like you and a pureblood like me, he’ll be trying to kill me, not you. Pureblood witches and wizards among his forces die or go mad in ways that utterly disgraces them and the family name. He’s wiped out more pureblood families than the muggles ever have. If it weren’t for wizards and witches like you, Wizarding Britain would have a tenth the numbers it did when Albus was born, if that. The current lords Black and Malfoy call muggle-born women Mother and give them the same honor as their blood mothers because dwindling numbers made their parents attempt pregnancy at so young an age that they became incapable of carrying children to term, and if they hadn’t been able to find skilled witches willing to be surrogate mothers and adopted them into the family so their magics became compatible with the childrens’ magics – which was only possible because those witches were not tied to any family magics of their own – the titles would have gone to collateral branches so distant they don’t even bear the names Black or Malfoy.

“If it weren’t for children like you, the wizards of Britain would be near extinction.” Once again he swept the room, meeting all of their eyes. “Remember this. Do not allow anyone to look down on you, or tell you that you do not belong here. You do not need us. You have places in the muggle world. We need you. Magic itself needs you.”

“Wizarding Britain thrives despite Voldemort while Africa, the birthplace of humanity and human magic, stagnates, Wizarding America curls up in a terrified ball and Europe treads water because of you. Each and every one of you is a savior of the Wizarding World.”

Savior of the Wizarding World. Harry had heard himself called that, but somehow it made him sit a little straighter seeing the man meet everyone else’s eyes. Like Harry sat among a whole hall full of heroes.

Like he was never alone and never ever could be.

“Dumbledore and Grindelwald addressed Slytherin’s concern about muggle-born instead of ignoring it like Griffindor did,” Draco was saying when they got back to the common room, from where he sat perched on one of the tables like a king on a throne. “These days, muggles treat wizards with the proper respect and you don’t have to call the obliviators over every little thing. My sisters can invite girls from the muggle town as well as the estate for their tea parties and I don’t have to play with them.”

“Yeah, shut it,” a black boy who also looked like an Italian said lazily. “You know how many husbands my mother has had, and I’m an only child. They keep exhausting themselves trying to have proper pureblood children like they’ll do as they’re told when the first batch of kids didn’t,” he rolled his eyes, “when they could just find a muggleborn surrogate instead of divorcing their wives and losing half the family estate in the process.”

Draco nodded, rolling his eyes. “Blaise is right. Mother said Madam Zabini is doing a public service, fleecing those continentals. Not that she’s cheating anyone,” he said quickly when Blaise raised an eyebrow. “It’s not your mother’s fault they’re fools and their wives should get to enjoy being out in society instead of shackled to someone who thinks they’re replaceable like that. My grandfathers didn’t divorce their wives: they had standards. And what would it matter if they actually did marry a muggle-born? The Malfoy family line goes back centuries. I could marry a hundred muggles, and it wouldn’t make my children any less noble. Keep implying that it’s possible to make Malfoy blood impure, and I’ll be telling my father.”

“And along this hall is the White Lady’s room,” Argus told them. “Walk up and down the corridor three times thinking that you want to see her – I’ll only demonstrate for you once!” He did so, and then a door appeared.

He used the bumblebee doorknocker and a voice called, “Come in!”

Argus opened the door and waved the children in.

Harry blinked, and blinked again. “Feels weird,” Ron said, rubbing his upper arms.

“I’m afraid that’s on my account,” said a white-haired woman sitting by the fire, on a couch next to a ghost. She smiled at them apologetically. “My magic’s a little messed up, so the room creates magical flows that untangle it for me.” She smiled at them, exactly like a grandmother. “Why don’t you children come and sit down? I always love to have visitors.”

Draco stood in front of her and bowed. “Ariana Dumbledore? My name’s Draco Malfoy.”

“Look at you!” She looked delighted, and Harry could see the resemblance to Albus in the sparkles. “You’re the spitting image of your father. And… hmm.” She laughed brightly. “You’re certainly a Black, but for some reason you remind me of Nymphadora instead of Narcissa…”

Draco brightened.

“They’re going to keep mistaking you for a half-veela when you grow up, aren’t they you handsome young man?”

“I’m too old to be a metamorphmagus,” he said, but “Do you think…”

“I don’t see any reason why you shouldn’t be able to became an animagus, if the shape-shifting power is that close to the surface. Isn’t Nymphadora a delight?”

“I know! My Mother thought the power had gone out of the family, and then it shows up in a half-blood? Father thinks that the Blacks are like the Malfoys, with so many alliance marriages that we have a half-dozen family magics and some of them suppress each other.” Then he blushed. “Sorry, Lady Ariana.”

“No, no! It’s wonderful to hear a young man being so enthusiastic about my little theories on the preservation and health of inborn magics! I was so embarrassed when that reprobate Gellert went and had my thesis published without even telling me, but it’s so worth it to see a talent like Nymphadora’s come back into the world.”

“Harry’s a parseltongue!”

Ariana held her hand over her mouth and gasped with delight. “No!” Draco simply had to be teasing her.

“Harry, come over here! Oh, forgive me Lady Ariana. These are Crabbe and Goyle, my liegemen, Hermione – she’s a genius – and the sixth Weasley.” AKA ‘you poor bastard, I have three younger sisters, I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have six of them, and most of them older. At least you can get away from younger ones.’

The way those two talked about their huge families made more sense to Harry now after hearing about Voldemort and what happened to the purebloods. Half ‘it’s such a pain and imposition’ and half bragging about how their families were huge and would totally kick your ass. Although maybe Harry kind of got that, when he’d never worried about bullies because Dudley could kick everyone’s ass.

-“Lemon drop?” After Harry nodded and took one, Albus chuckled. “Yes, Gellert has that effect on people. When we were teenagers he was thinking of leading an army. I thought he was so impressive at that age… then he moved into my house so we could work on research together and I could still look after Ariana and he would never pick his clothes up off the floor or do the dishes.” He smiled nostalgically. “I finally understood why Aberforth – my brother – wanted to strangle him so much. I got over my starry-eyed infatuation and realized that Gellert – while I love him dearly – is a bit of a jerk. I found myself wondering ‘do I treat people like that?’ and honestly I did, I was overly impressed with my intelligence when I was younger, and was so horrified I started making an effort to be a better person. There’s a movie one of my students gave me with a giant magical rabbit that contains the line ‘I have tried being bright, and I have tried being pleasant.’ I do find that being kind is a genius all its own.”

But because England had a lot of power, PR changes there could get distributed throughout the world… Around three-quarters of a century later, England’s Ministry has been only technically not violating the International Statute of Secrecy for so long that the other countries think that England is the place it’s least likely for a breach to occur, because the native people think magic is something that happens all the time, so no reason to put it in the papers, and the other muggle countries think England just has a thing for magic and folklore and keeps making up urban legends.

Gellert was able to sell his ideas to a lot of the younger generation in Germany but was resisted by the traditionalists. He proposed using England as a test case, so a lot of continental wizards decamped to England until the older ones were out of the way and got a taste of doing the healings and being considered heroes by a local mythos more focused on Merlin than Baba Yaga.

He was at Durmstang for a bit, but while he considers children less stubborn and immature than adults (less set in their ways, easier to nudge to be logical/think his way), he got lonely for intelligent conversation.

He’s active in political and social circles and has some of Albus’ canon political posts, or serves as Albus’ deputy in posts where the actual title has to go to a British wizard. He’s allowed to sub for Albus even where that’s irregular because of course being Hogwarts Headmaster takes priority. While he’s trying to stick close to Hogwarts, the European social movement is in the hands of Hufflepuffs and adopted Hufflepuffs. Helga is an icon among European lower-class wizards and reformists. So I supposed Gellert does have an army in the AU, it’s just Hufflepuffs. Which is more terrifying.

It was their experiences with the Elder Wand that made them go ‘yeah how about no’ to completing the set, because the magic is very clearly malicious and Gellert thinks that traps should be sprung by someone who is not him but on the other hand he doesn’t want someone not him or Albus getting the power if they survive, while Albus has the job of vetoing things involving innocent people.

#all of the fanfic #harry cannoneer

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paravell-archive · 8 years

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Chapter 1 - The Girl From Telmar

Chapter One

Adeline waited until it was sunset, the sun just setting behind the mountains, to climb down the tower and slip into the garden. Waiting in an apple tree for a guard to move, she pulled her hair into a french braid, and gripping a knife in her teeth. Once the guard had moved away, she swung her pack onto her back and moved to the far wall. She climbed another tree and jumped down the wall, rolling to break her fall. Once she recovered, she strapped her pack on more securely, sheathed her knife, and began walking to Veritas, the closest city to the palace.

XXX

All Addy remembered about how she died was that it was in battle against her own country. She remembered everything leading up to it, but not the exact moment. Narnia had only been her home for a few months, but everyone was different there. There were still problems with thieves and bandits, and differences between the poor and the wealthy. But in Telmar there was no caring king. Her parents had only ever cared about the next party, banquet or gala. And as a Princess in Telmar, Addy was expected to follow their footsteps, no matter how awful. To Addy, Narnia was heaven, until her parents had become greedy and attacked Narnia. Addy had enlisted in the army, but the King, who had replaced the Pevensies when they had disappeared, had made a fatal flaw and the Telmarines overran the Narnians, and took over. Addy had died in the last battle.

When she woke up, she was in England, 1968. At first she thought it was some type of heaven, but Aslan had come and explained that she had been saved so she could help other people elsewhere. He had taught her what she needed to know, and then left, leaving her with many questions. So far, Addy felt like she had done nothing to help anyone. She had luckily found a job in Buckingham palace as a cook. She wasn’t sure why Aslan had requested that she work in the palace because it brought up bad memories. But she enjoyed earning her own money and working for it. She worked long hours in the hot steamy kitchen, scrubbing greasy pots and pans, mopping the floor, chopping potatoes, stirring soup and everything in between. She didn’t mind the work, it kept her busy. Addy had made a few friends, but she was so used to shutting everyone out in Telmar, she usually kept quiet about her personal life.

One day, as she was chopping up carrots, her mind began wandering, and the chunks became lopsided and uneven.

“Addy! For the last time, you have to focus! Why it is so hard, I don’t understand, can’t you just focus?” The head cook muttered. She was a stout woman with an Irish accent who always spoke quickly. She glanced up at Addy. “Get a new carrot, and start over, and if you don’t do it right this time, I’ll assign you to the roast!”

Addy quickly scrambled to get a new carrot cut precisely even. The cook was fair but demanded perfection. When she had first started working, she had no idea how to clean or cook, and the cook had been appalled at her skills. But it had taught her a lot.

Later after work that day, Addy trudged home through the pouring rain, exhausted and beat. She stopped to grab her mail, waved at her neighbors, then ran up the stairs into her tiny grey apartment. She didn’t mind living there, she liked having her own space, but she was lonely. She’d tried to decorate her apartment in bright colors, but it hadn’t really helped. Addy wanted to go back to Narnia. She loved it here, there was so much more freedom and opportunities, with all the trees and green plants and flowers. Here, it was cloudy all the time, and the big buildings blocked out the sky and trees. The aftermath of the war was still apparent, and there were buildings destroyed everywhere. For now, Addy took one day at a time, and hoped and prayed she could go back to Narnia.

The next morning, Addy woke up late. Cursing, she scrambled around her apartment getting ready, throwing on dirty clothes and forgetting breakfast. By the time she was ready, she had five minutes left to get to work. Glancing at her watch, she realized she could make it if she ran.

As she ran down the city blocks, she saw a little girl, chasing a ball into the street and a car speeding towards her. Without even thinking, she ran forward and pushed the girl out of the way of an incoming car. But Addy was stuck in place, unable to move, trying to pick up her feet and jump out of the way, but she was frozen. Something was keeping her locked in place. Too late, the car slammed on its brakes and Addy felt herself go flying before blacking out.

-------------

Addy woke up on the ground in a forest, sprawled out on her back. She opened her eyes slowly, blinking at the harsh sunlight. She tried to remember what happened, muscles aching and her head pounding. I died again, I guess. Where am I? She slowly sat up, her muscles protesting. Her eyes took in the green scenery, and a smile tugged at her lips. It can’t be. How can I be back in Narnia? I died once here too. I can’t be here again.

Full of questions and no answers, she forced herself up and she began to walk stiffly towards the sound a roaring river, trying to get a bearing of where she was. But when she got close to the sound, all she saw was a cliff, and the river far down below. She peered over the edge and gulped at the height. I don’t remember any cliffs in Narnia. So where am I?

She began to walk again, noticing a group of people next to a tent and a couple of horses, quietly talking about a mile downstream in a small clearing, where the cliff wasn’t so high. She bent down low and moved quietly through the bushes, hoping to overhear them and decide whether or not she could trust them. But luck wasn’t on her on her side, and she stepped on a branch, alerting the camp to her.

But someone was already behind her. “Why are you watching us?” came a harsh voice behind Addy.

Her instincts took in. She turned around and kicked the man’s legs out from under him and grabbed his fallen sword. She smirked inwardly - only novice swordsmen dropped their swords like that. She pointed it at him but was forced to turn and face the oncoming sword from one of the other men from the camp, but not before giving the man a solid kick. Smiling as she fought the approaching man, a beginner, with sloppy moves, she nearly disarmed him, but he came back hard, fighting like the devil. But Addy could also fight like that, even without practice for over a year. Although equally skilled, she wasn’t as strong, and she had to go on the defensive more often than not.

His blows rained down, and Addy kept backing up to avoid being crushed. Now desperate, she sidestepped around a tree and pivoted so that he was in front of her, only half way turned around, her sword at his throat. He smirked at her. Addy realized with a jolt that his sword was also at her throat. He had outsmarted her. She lowered her sword, seeing it was pointless with two other men behind her.

“Who are you?” She demanded.

He raised his dark eyebrows. “You’re not really in a position to ask that.” Addy started to raise her sword, then dropped it at his piercing look. “If you kill me, there three other perfectly capable people of slitting your throat. So, let’s start with you. Who are you? You don’t look like you’re from Narnia.”

Addy smiled demurely, hoping to soften him. “I’m Addy. My parents were Telmarines.” I shouldn’t have said Telmar. These people are from Narnia. “Raised in Narnia.” She lied smoothly.

“And where did you come from? We’re miles from an city or village, and you have no supplies or horse with you.” The tall blonde one asked, his sword still pointed at her.

Before she could respond, someone grabbed Addy’s arms from behind, forcing her to drop her sword, painfully pinning her arms behind her back. “You’re lying. I know it.” The man whispered. He pulled her arms back, making Addy cry out. He kicked her legs out from under her and her face landed in the dirt. She clamped her mouth shut, determined not to say anything until she knew what was going on. Suddenly, her eyes widened, looking at the three people standing in front of her.

“... You’re the kings of old, aren’t you? But you were lost, you vanished - How? You left Narnia. You left us,” Addy glared at the dark one, eyes flashing. They were part of the reason her parents had been so awful. “You must be Edmund.”

“Where have you been for the last six years? We came back and saved Narnia from the Telmarines. Aslan brought us back here,” He said, crossing his arms defensively.

Addy hesitated.

“You’re from Earth. But not originally,” Edmund spat.

Addy glared at him and nodded, knowing that he would have figured it out either way.

A pause.

“I don’t like you.” She decided.

“Glad to hear it.” He replied, shrugging.

“Well, how did you learn to fight like that?” The one pinning her down asked.

“I… I was born in Telmar and I was… trained to fight. Telmar was dangerous for a girl that was a - I fought for Narnia - died, sent to Earth, and now I’m here. I think I died on Earth too. There was a crash…” Addy trailed off. They can’t know I’m a Telmar princess. They hate Telmarines.

The man released Addy’s arms gently, but Edmund kept his sword pointed at her, narrowing his eyes. “Common girls don’t know how to fight. You must have been a noble.”

Addy simply nodded. He seemed against the ideas of girls fighting. “My parents didn’t want me to, but I trained. Then I escaped to Narnia and fought for them against the incoming Telmarines. Narnia was the only real home I had. Telmar gave me nothing.”

Addy shut her mouth once again, now really determined to keep quiet. She didn’t trust these kings and especially not Edmund. They didn’t need to hear her entire story after all.

“Why would you be sent here? We aren’t in trouble, the whole land is at peace. Are you a mistake?” Edmund thought out loud, earning yet another glare from Addy.

The man who had held her arms was staring at her. “You look like - like my mother. My real mother.”

I’m screwed.

Addy just glowered at him. He looked familiar too, but that was impossible. It had been apparently hundreds of years since she’d been in Narnia.

“You have to have royal blood. You’re a queen or princess, who died in battle… I don’t remember any who died in battle.” said the man, glancing at Peter for help, who merely shrugged. His eyes widened. “You’re Princess Adeline, the one who left your parents, the king and queen of Telmar and fought for Narnia, and then died, never seen again. It was almost 1300 years ago.”

Addy just glared at him, arms crossed. His accent made it clear he was a Telmarine too. She fired off quickly, speaking to the man. “No me llames princesa. No soy una telmarine.”

He nodded. “Yo entiendo. Mis padres tampoco estaban bien.”

Addy turned back to Peter and Edmund. “You are going kill me because of my parents, aren’t you? I never agreed with them, and they never cared about me. Look I’m sorry,” She spun around, almost shouting. “I don’t know why I’m here, but could I just go? I won’t even look at you again if it’ll make you happy. I’ll disappear to another city, Daelhr, or somewhere, and live peacefully until I die for the third time and hopefully, the last time. I just...” want a simple life she finished silently.

“We don’t kill anyone for what their parents did. What kind of king would do that?

My parents did. Addy thought. There was another pause. Peter was deep in thought while Edmund continued to send Addy death glares.

“Why don’t you come with us? To Cair Paravel?” said Peter.

“What?” they all said in unison.

“No thanks.” Addy spat. Especially Cair Paravel.

“Why not? You are a princess. You deserve better,” said the other man.

“I… can’t. And loads of other people deserve to be treated like royalty. I’m not a princess anymore.” I will never be one again.

“You’d be safe. We can find a job for you, maybe even help you improve your swordfighting skills. Edmund’s the best in the land, and you almost beat him.”

“I’m a girl.”

“That’s what’s bothering you? No -”

“We don’t know her!” Burst in Edmund.

“I don’t trust you. And why would you trust me? You just met me. You could just be pretending to trust me just so you can put me in prison later.”

Silence.

“There is no way I’m coming -”

“Adeline,” A deep voice came from behind Addy. She turned around and almost smiled, glad to finally see someone she trusted.

It was Aslan. His mane glowing, fur shining in the sunlight and voice rumbling. “You are safe with them. Go with them.”

“But - “

“Adeline, you are safe with them. And they are safe with you.”

“Why am I here?” Addy asked, pleading with him.

“Remember what I told you before.” And with that, Aslan turned and bounded away, his mane glistening in the sunlight streaming through the trees.

Addy sat down on a log, thinking hard and glowering at them. She rubbed her eyes, weighing her decisions. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But I’m only staying for a year. That’s it.”

The three men glanced at each other, then Peter shrugged. “All right, if Aslan says...”

“C’mon. We’ll get you back to the castle. I am Caspian, High King of Narnia.” He held out a hand to help her up, but she stood up and stormed away, leaving him bewildered.

Addy cursed her luck and she trudged towards their small camp. Of course I end up with the Kings and Queens of Narnia instead of just living out a quiet life. Why me again?

---------

Addy was jogging next to the king’s horses. She had the option of riding sidesaddle with one of the men or running the three miles back to the castle. Refusing to ride or let any of them walk, she had just started running next to them. In the end, they had given up and rode next to her in silence.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Why didn’t you kill me? You caught me spying on you, and I attacked three kings at the same time.”

“Why were you spying on us?” Peter asked

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t slave traders before I approached for help. You could have been murderers for all I knew.”

“Why would you think that we were slave traders? There aren’t anymore in Narnia, haven’t been for years.” Caspian asked, slightly offended.

“I didn’t know. It was different when I lived here. Especially in Telmar.” Addy mumbled the last part. They still hadn’t answered her question. When she had lived in Telmar, most women walked with someone else to make sure they were safe when not in public.

They fell back into an uneasy silence, the only sounds were from Addy’s running and the horses.

About twenty minutes later, Cair Paravel, emerged from behind the trees. Addy slowed down to gape openly at it.

“Holy,” she muttered. “That’s even more… More breathtaking than before.”

“Caspian rebuilt a few years ago.” Edmund spoke up, like it was no big deal.

“When the Telmarines got to this point, pushing us back, they blew it up.” Addy said, voice soft. “I don’t- nevermind.”

Behind her, Peter and Caspian exchanged glances. Adeline obviously didn’t want to be here. She fell silent again, in deep concentration. The silence was tense.

“You can meet Susan and Lucy, my sisters in the morning. They’ll love you.” Edmund said.

“Why can’t I meet them today? It’s only noon.” Addy glared at Edmund. “Running three miles doesn’t exhaust me.”

Edmund raised his eyebrows. “Well then. I’m so sorry.” He smirked. Feisty, He thought.

Addy smirked back. I will not let Edmund beat me at this.

-------------

After Addy had been shown to her rooms and bathed, she pulled on the least frilly dress in her wardrobe. It still had too many bows for her tastes, the sleeves drooped past her fingertips and when she took one step she tripped immediately. Although she was tall and fit, she was drowning in the dress. Pulling herself off the floor, she took a dagger and ‘neatly’ cut away the hem of the dress until it was short enough and the sleeves, then one by one, all of the bows. The dress, by her standards, was acceptable, but when she walked into the dining room, Edmund started laughing. A tall, beautiful girl with dark brown hair and soft eyes, seated at a shiny wood table snorted.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, still grinning. “That used to be my dress, but it’s too small now. I figured my clothing might fit you the best, but apparently not.”

Addy’s eyes narrowed momentarily. “I am very sorry about my laughing. I’ve imagined doing that to all my dresses, but haven’t had the courage.”

Addy’s fists unclenched slowly at the Queen’s easy manner, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. This was the Kings and Queens of Narnia after all. Nothing I haven’t faced before.

“I’m Queen Susan, but please just call me Susan. And Lucy should be here -”

“Right here!” came a bright voice behind Addy.

Addy spun around. A girl, about sixteen stood there, smiling, practically bouncing with excitement. “I’m Queen Lucy, and please just call me Lucy too.”

“I’m Adeline, but call me Addy.” Addy nodded at the two girls. Susan looked like she was about twenty two, and both of their smiles lit up the room. Lucy had lighter brown hair and bright blue eyes.

Edmund was still laughing. When he finally stopped, he stuck out his hand to Adeline.

“I’m King Edmund, and you can call me King Edmund.” Addy raised her eyebrows, then smirked.

“I’m Addy, and you can call me Adeline.”

Susan snorted again, and Addy turned around and winked at her.

“Edmund’s a prankster - watch out. Lucy’s the happiest, Peter’s more serious, and Caspian… well there he is...” Susan trailed off as he came into the room, declaring that if he didn’t eat right away, he would die immediately.

After dinner, Susan and Lucy dragged Addy away to go get fitted for more dresses. Addy tried to protest, but was quickly pulled away. So Addy stood on top of a stool, scowling as a maid kept jabbing her with pins.

“My lady, if you would just stop moving, I could be done by now!�� said the maid finally, exasperated.

Addy sighed and held still, wincing as another pin poked her ribs. When the maid finally announced that she was done, she carefully tore off the cloth and pins, shoved them into the maid’s basket and ran out of the room and down the hall, heading towards her room.

But she before she got far, she realized she was lost. She stood in the middle of the hallway, dressed in nothing more than a robe, trying to figure out where she was. It was late at night, and she hadn’t seen any servants for a while. She peered down a few corridors, trying recognize anything. Finally she gave up and decided to open the door closest to her, hoping someone was in there. When no one answered her knock, she opened the door.

Edmund stood, with his back to her, with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his toned muscles showing. Blushing, Addy tried to close the door before he could hear her, but Edmund whipped around, surprised. Now Addy could see his tan stomach muscles. She groaned, feeling her face flush. She’d never seen anyone so… fit.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, raising and eyebrow and eyeing her carefully.

“I’m sorry, I just.. I was… trying… I got lost.”

He smirked and winked at her red face. “I’ll show you the way back, but first, get out.”

Addy was now beet red. She closed the door, and stood outside, arms crossed, glaring and waiting until Edmund came out, dressed in a loose tunic and breeches.

“I’m sorry,” She muttered.

“I’ll have your head chopped off for this! I am the Just King.”

Addy laughed, but when he kept his face straight, her face hardened.

“My father threatened to do that to one of my older brothers.” Addy said shortly. Edmund stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. That was the last thing he had expected and sudden. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable until Addy’s room appeared.

She just nodded to him and stepped inside.

“A simple thank you would suffice.” Edmund raised an eyebrow again.

Addy shut the door in his face, feeling a sense of satisfaction as his mouth dropped open in surprise. Even though he was a king, something made her refuse to bow down to him and his ego. Everything he did just irked her. If she had to stay here for a year, Addy would do everything she could to annoy him. The first thing to do - figure out his normal routine, then plan a prank. She climbed into a massive bed, closed the red curtains, and dropped her robe on the floor. It took her almost two hours to fall asleep, unable to clear her mind of her conflicting thoughts of the day.

#narnia #narnia fanfic #cairpxravel #narnia fanfiction #the girl from telmar #please let me know if you like it!!!!!!!!

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cwnerd12 · 5 years

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“Coronation” A journalist, Debora Tipton, interviews David and Jack in their living room, while Rose, Michelle, and Abby stand behind the camera, watching. Debora, “What do you have planned for the future?” David, “Uuuh, well, I’ve kind of been taking things one day at a time, I’ve kind of had to, things change so fast. The peace negotiations with Gath have been taking up most of my time. I’ve got my coronation ball coming up in a few weeks, so, sometimes I get to think about that. In the times when I’ve been able to think about a long-terms agenda, it’s always been really overwhelming. There’s so much that I want to do, but, I know not everything is going to be possible. But, I think once we’ve settled with Gath, I’ll be able to start putting some real plans together.” Debora smiles, “What’s the best part of being king?” David smiles and blushes a little bit, “Honestly? I really like being married,” he glances over at Jack blushing, and then goes on, “I know it sounds really corny of me, but I pulled myself through the darkest parts of the war by daydreaming about the stuff I get to do now: making dinner, sleeping in, watching bad TV. Being with Jack is what makes me happy.” Debora, “Jack, you were raised to be king. You spent your whole life up to a few years ago doing your best to be a future king. Do you no longer hold any lingering desires to be king?” Jack, slightly hesitant, “No. David is king.” David jumps in, “I’m the king, but Jack has me wrapped around his little finger. I really can’t say no to him. Plus, I trust him, and I know he’s smart, so I really take into consideration what he has to say. He’s got all the power of being king, just not the title. So he might as well be king, he just doesn’t have to go to all the boring meetings.” Debora, “So there’s no disappointment or regret?” Jack, “No.”

As David sees the Debora and her crew out, Léon hangs in the doorway of his room. Deboras spots him, “Oh- uh, is your guest willing to grant an interview?” David, “No, he won’t be doing that.” Léon, to David, “Are you done?” David goes over to Léon and says to him, “Still haven’t heard back. Sorry.” Léon, “It’s almost two weeks!” David, “I’m sorry! We’re kind of making some big demands.” Léon makes a face. David, “Just hang in there, okay?” He pats him on the shoulder.

Jack gets scanned in an MRI machine. Technician, “You know the drill. Stay completely still until it’s over.” Jack shuts his eyes and holds still. Cut to: Jack, David, Michelle and Rose sit in Dr. Hussein’s office, looking at the scan. Dr. Hussein, “As I’ve explained before, it’s very common for recoveries to be over after about a year. Looking at your scans, I don’t see any signs of it stopping. You’re still recovering. You won’t be exactly like you were before, but with continued therapy, I think you could get 99% of the way there.” Jack beams. Michelle hugs him tightly. Rose wipes away a small tear. David puts his face in his hands, overcome. Dr. Hussein, “Are you all right, David?” David looks up, “Yeah, yeah, I’m good- I’m really good. I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve gotten good news,” he hugs Jack, “This is really good news.”

Back at the palace, David helps Jack out of the car. Abby comes up. Jack, “Good news!” David, “Jack’s recovery hasn’t stopped.” Abby, “Gérald just said he’ll sign the peace agreement.” David, “Seriously?” Abby, “Yep. Léon’s going home.”

David, Jack, Abby, Shay, Joel, and Asher stand at the entrance to the palace. Rose stands beside David, and whisper to him, “Are you nervous?” David, “I just want this to be over with,” he looks over at Jack, “You ready for this?” Jack grins, “So ready.” A Gath motorcade approaches the palace. David squeezes Jack’s arm, “You okay?” Jack, “I want to see him lose.” A limousine door opens, and Gérald steps out, followed by Marlène, Christian, and Frédéric. David steps forward, “Good morning, Gérald.” Gérald, “I’m not signing anything until I see Léon.”

Inside, Léon chats with Gérald, Marlène, Christian, and Frédéric, in subtitled French, “I went to Midnight Mass with General Mendoza and her mom and girlfriend. After that we had dinner at someone’s house. There was a whole roast pig. People kept giving me their daughter’s phone numbers. I might have accidentally gotten engaged, I’m not sure. Someone’s lola kept hugging me. They sent me back to the palace with three big boxes full of food.” Marlène, “So you’ve been treated well.” Léon, “Yes, I have. But I’m ready to come home.” Gérald, “Do you understand the terms of the peace treaty?” Léon, “I helped write it.” Christian, “You’re helping Shepherd get his revenge.” Léon, “It’s peace. If he wanted revenge Papa and I would be dead right now.” Christian looks over at Gérald, “He’s been brainwashed.” Marlène, “Christian!” Léon, “It’s a good deal. Good for Gath. I made sure of it.” Christian, “Of course you would say it’s a good deal.” Léon, “Papa doesn’t have to sign it. You can still go home without me.” Gérald, “Léon, this is not easy. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Léon, “I will be.” Christian, “So this is it? Gath is conquered?” Léon, “We are not conquered!” Christian, “We're not the victors here! If we aren’t the victors, then what are we?” Léon, “Changing. Silas is dead. We can’t keep killing ourselves fighting his war.” Gérald, tired, “I will sign the agreement. Christian, you don’t have to agree to anything you don’t want to. I just want to bring Léon home.”

In the treaty room, the scene is set for a treaty signing. David makes a face as he gets brushed with makeup. Marlène fusses with Léon’s tie. Rose makes sure the flags are perfectly arranged. cameramen ready their cameras. Abby comes up to David, “We’re almost ready. Where’s Gérald?” David looks around. In a quiet, empty hallway outside the treaty room, Gérald stands by himself, gazing at the painting, Jacob’s Struggle With The Angel, by Luca Giordano. David, “Are you ready?” Gérald gazes at the painting without saying anything. David steps toward him, “Gérald?” Gérald, quietly, “It’s a beautiful painting.” David, “Jacob wrestles the angel. Luca Giordano. I think Monique put it up because it matches the palace color scheme. I still find myself looking at it whenever I pass. It is pretty striking.” Gerald, “Jacob and the angel fought all night. The angel said, give up, day is breaking, and Jacob would not let go, unless the angel blessed him. Jacob knew he was wrestling God at that point, and still made demands. I often wonder, what kind of man has that strength? What kind of man has that audacity, the madness, to fight with God, to look into His face, and say I will not let thee go, except thou bless me?” David, without missing a beat, “Silas.” Gérald gives David a curious look, and then laughs softly, “The God defeated Jacob with the slightest touch, and then He blessed him, and gave him a new name. Israel. He who wrestles with God,” he looks over at David, “C’est la vie, non? God breaks you, and then He blesses you. Right now, I am broken. You are blessed.” David thinks for a moment, and then says, softly, “If you’d have stayed around for a minute longer, Jack would have bled to death. I sincerely wanted to die up there. I had this plan, I’d take my gun, go out, find some place quiet, some place I wouldn’t bother anyone, and just… end it. There would be no coup, Linus Abner would still be king, and you could defeat him, easily. Gath could finally conquer Gilboa. I knew there would be consequences if I just up and ended it, and still, I… I try to imagine living my life without Jack, and… I can’t. I try to make some kind of image in my head, and there’s nothing there, it’s just blank,” he pauses, “But that would only be if Jack died. We got him to a field hospital in time, so… here we are.” He looks at the painting. They stand in silence for a long moment. David, “Are you ready to sign this treaty?” Gérald, “I am.”

David and Gérald stand at a treaty table, their teams and families behind them. Outside, thousands gather to watch. David, “Today marks a new beginning for the nations of Gath and Gilboa. Today is the day we make peace, for good. The borderlands will return to Gilboa, and the Port of Prosperity will be shared freely by Gath and Gilboa.” Gérald, “In agreement with the peace treaty… I will resign the office of premier. My son, Christian, will take my place, for a period of ten years, when my youngest son, Léon, shall take his place.” Marléne proudly puts a hand on Léon’s shoulder, and Léon smiles a little bit. David signs the peace treaty, and then Gérald, and then shake hands. Outside, the crowds cheer. David steps away. Gérald “It has been my greatest pleasure to lead and to serve my country, but the time has come to change. I gladly hand my position over to my sons, who I know will guide our nation with wisdom and grace.” He signs the resignation papers, and hands them over to a judge. Christian approaches the judge, his wife, Anne, and his children, Jérôme and Delphine, at his side. Anne holds up a Bible, and Cristian puts his left hand on it. He raises his right hand, “Je jure solennellement de servir les peuples notre pays, de garantir les droits et libertés des citoyens, de défendre les principes du socialisme, de respecter scrupuleusement la Constitution du Gath, et de remplir consciencieusement les devoirs qui me sont confiés par le premier du Gath, ainsi Dieu me soit en aide.” Everyone applauds. Outside, people cheer wildly. Jack puts an arm around David’s shoulder, proudly smiling. David smiles, but he’s not as enthusiastic as those around him.

People party in the streets. Confetti flies. Onlookers weep. Strangers kiss. Inside the palace, Abby does shots while everyone cheers. Up in the residence, Jessie and Rose entertain the Shaw family. In his room, Léon packs his bags. David stands at the door. Léon zips his suitcase, and then turns to David, “Get my family. I’m ready.” David, “Do you mind if I talk to you for a minute, first?” Léon, “Sure.” David, “Listen, it’s hell, being king, or, premier, I guess. If in ten years, you don’t want to do it, I’ll understand. I made sure there was some wiggle room in the language of the treaty.” Léon, “I’ll be ready.” David, “Yeah, you think you’re ready, but then there’s a supposed-to-be-dead war criminal in your basement, and you’re trying not to puke on live TV because the asshole who shot your boyfriend just shook your hand.” Léon, “I think my experience will be somewhat different than yours. I hope, anyway.” David, “My coronation ball’s in a couple of weeks. You’re more than welcome to come.” Léon, “I’ll be glad to be there.”

In the residence, David gazes down at the part outside. Jack stands behind him, arms around his waist. He kisses the back of David’s neck, “That’s all you, babe.” David looks down, taking it all in, his face blank.

David lies down in Dr. Othman’s office, “If you want to go back to Gath, you can. I made sure that was part of the treaty.” Dr. Othman, “I like it here in Shiloh.” David, “You can go be with your family.” Dr. Othman sighs, “I was never the best father to begin with. Always away on the front, angry and miserable when I was at home. I didn’t see my kids very often when I was in Ashdod. Now, they can come visit me here. Besides, you’re a rather interesting client to have.” David, “Don’t stay here because of me.” Othman, “It’s my choice. So tell me, how have you been since the peace deal went through?” David, “Okay, I guess.” Dr. Othman, “Just okay? Such a major and historic accomplishment, not even a full year into your kingship, most people would be ecstatic.” David makes a face and thinks for a moment. Finally, he says, “Jack and I did this interview that’s supposed to air during my coronation ball. The reporter asked me this question, ‘Are you happy being king?’ It’s been driving me crazy all week. Honestly, what kind of question is that?” Othman, “A fair one, given your history of depression.” David, “I’m not depressed. At least, not like I was. I’m not numb. I experience happiness, I just…” he sighs deeply, “Jack tells me that Silas used to always talk about sacrifice and how difficult it is being king. Maybe kings aren’t meant to be happy.” Othman, “You know, a lot of people want what you have.” David, “PTSD?” Othman, “I mean your support system. You have your husband, your family, your friends. A lot of people want you to thrive and be happy.” David, “Being with Jack makes me happy.” Othman, “Yes, but he’s his own person with his own life. It’s not fair to expect him to be with you all the time.” David, “Sometimes I wonder if something inside me is broken. Like I’ve seen so much, been through so much, that there’s nothing left that could shock or astonish me.” Othman laughs softly. David, “What?” Othman, “Do you have any idea how young you are, David? I know your experience makes you feel very old. I’ve been there. But life is long. You’ve barely just began yours.” David, “So am I just gonna be like this for the rest of my life?” Othman, “I can try increasing your medication. That might help. But there is no magic pill. Happiness is learned, like anything else. Some people have an easier time learning than others. Some of us really struggle with it.” David, “Do you think I’m capable of learning it?” Othman, “That’s up to you."

David goes into the residence, where Jack sits in a chair. David, “Hey, Jack,” he does a double take, “Why do you have a cat?” Jack has a large cat in his arms, “Her name is Nuggets.” David, “Did- did you seriously just go out and get a cat?!” Jack, “Rescue!” David, “Oh my god, did it ever occur to you to say, hey, David, I want a cat?” Jack, “Mom always said no.” David goes over and sits down, “I would have said yes.” Jack, “Not risking it.” David sighs and scritches Nuggets’s ears, “What made you pick this cat?” Jack, “She showed me her butthole.” David laughs, “Yeah, I guess that’d be a good way to get your attention.”

Jessie and David stand surveying the burned-down farmhouse. David, “It’s really not so bad. We can build a bigger house. Plenty of room for grandkids.” Jessie, sadly, “I’m gonna stay at the palace.” David, “Really?” Jessie, “I like doing the whole Queen Mother thing.” David, “I thought you wanted to come home.” Jessie, “I have a new home.”

The inside of the Church of Bethlehem is crowded with visitors in black and AFG uniforms. Up front is a large portrait of Robert, surrounded by funeral flowers. In the front pew sit Jessie, David, James, Ethan, Sean, and Arthur. The pastor reads, “Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young. Let him sit alone in silence, for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust— there may yet be hope. Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace. For no one is cast off by the Lord forever. Though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is His unfailing love.”

In Bethlehem cemetery, Jessie lays a wreath of flowers at a new headstone, ROBERT SHEPHERD, beside Eli and John’s headstones, where David was supposed to be buried. Jessie steps back, and David steps forward. He places an AFG flag upright in the ground.

Jessie and the boys ride back to Shiloh in the back of a limo. David sits next to her. Jessie, “I’m glad we were able to do this as a family.” David squeezes her hand, “Of course we’d do it this way, Mom.” Jessie sniffs a little bit, “I’m glad we’re all together. It- it was hard being alone, when Robert died. I mean, I got the phone call, and then I made a few phone calls, and… that was it. Nothing changed. Robert was just… gone. I went out, I told people, my son died, and they’d have pity, and then I’d go home. Make dinner. Watch my shows. I kept thinking, there should be an earthquake, a fire, just some kind of disaster to signify that something’s changed. John and Eli were like missing the last step on a flight of stairs. My day changed, the house changed, I had to re-adjust my life around it. And Robert was just gone. It’s so hard to know for sure that he’s gone.” David, “I’m sorry, Mom.” Jessie, “Don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad we’re together.”

In Monique’s office, Abby and Monique hash out the final details of the coronation ball seating plan. Abby, “It’ll be better if you put the Ammon delegates over here.” The door opens and David enters and sees Abby, “Geez, Abby, you’re still here? Everyone else is taking time off.” Monique, “Because she’s a masochist.” Abby, “Someone has to make sure your coronation ball isn’t a diplomatic train wreck.” David, “That’s Rose’s job. She’s actually hosted balls before.” Abby, “Even if I took time off, Michelle still has school.” David sits down, “Yeah, but she’s not at school every day. Take a weekend or something. Turns out being king means I own a shitload of property. I’m gonna take Jack to this beach house on the coast this weekend. You and Michelle can take our cabin in the mountains or something. Make Michelle a nice dinner.” Abby, “I can’t cook!” Monique, “Honestly, what kind of useless lesbian bullshit is this? Your wife is literally a beautiful princess and you can’t do one romantic weekend with her?” Abby, “I’m no good at relaxing! I have to have something to do!” Monique, “Of you’re no good at something, try getting better!” David, “Hey, if I can force myself to learn how to relax, you can, too.” Abby, “Fine, but only as long as we get this seating chart figured out.”

In the dressing room, Rose has several tiaras laid out for Jessie to look at. Jessie, “You can’t be serious about this.” Rose, “A Queen Mother wears a tiara to formal events. Michelle is going to wear the rose-cut bandeau, I believe, I’m going to wear the Boucheron tiara.” Jessie, “The nicest piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned is the engagement ring John gave me!” Rose, “It’s really not very complicated. You just pick the one you like. Diamonds go with everything, and always flatter.” The door opens and David comes in, “I get your seating plans, Rose, you just have to give the final approval.” He goes over and hands her a folder. Rose, “Excellent. Come help us pick a tiara.” David walks over, “What?” Jessie, “Rose says I should wear a tiara to your ball.” David, “Which one do you like?” Jessie, “I like all of them, that’s the problem!” David picks up one, “Here, this one has stars, go with the theme.” He puts it on Jessie’s head. Rose immediately re-adjusts it, “It’s not a headband. You wear it forward on the head, on the same plane as the face.” She steps back, the tiara properly adjusted. Jessie giggles nervously, “How do I look?” David grins, “Perfect. I like this one.” Jessie goes over to a mirror. She covers her face with her hands and laughs. David, “You look great. You were meant to wear tiaras.”

Gray, foggy, rainy morning at an isolated beach house that sits where a forest of trees gives way to sand and rocks. David exits the front door, dressed warmly. He looks out at the weather around him, considering whether or not to go, but then sets off running. He runs where the waves lap against the shore, the mist dampening his hair, making it stick to his skin. The fog thickens, he can barely see in front of him. He pauses and looks around, panting and shivering. He sees a large, dark shape up ahead of him. He squints at it for a moment, and then begins running towards it. As he approaches, the shape starts to take form: a gigantic redwood tree, not native to these parts, lying on its side, tossed up by the ocean. David stops running and marvels at the power of nature. He walks towards the trunk, the old roots towering high above him. He walks around the tree, marveling at its sheer size. He places his hand on the damp wood, taking it all in. He shuts his eyes and leans his forehead against the tree, as if listening to it. He stands there for a moment, and then takes one final look. He smiles a little bit, and then turns around. He runs back where he came from.

In the house, Jack pulls ingredients out of the cabinets. The front door opens, and David enters. Jack looks and sees him, “Hey, you want pancakes?” David goes up to him and turns him around. He kissed Jack deeply and passionately, pushing him back into the counter. Jack wraps his arms around David’s shoulders, and then runs his fingers through David’s wet hair. They pause, and Jack smiles happily, “You’re all cold.” He kisses David on the lips, “And salty.” David gazes into Jack’s eyes, smiling with adoration. Cut to: Jack and David make love in their bed. Jack moans happily and softly gasps, “David, David, David…”

(ugh I have to set up context for this conversation, but it’ll probably happen when David’s preparing for his speech) Rose, “Are you happy, David?” David, “What?” Rose, “It’s an important question. Are you happy?” David laughs, “ You have no idea how much that question’s been bothering me lately.” Rose, “Well, are you?” David thinks for a moment, “Things could be better. There’s still a lot of things that I want.” Rose, “What do you want?” David, “A better future. Peace, prosperity, all the good things that a king is supposed to want for his people.” Rose, “What else?” David looks at her, still thinking, “I… I…” he grows more serious, “It used to be that my most ambitious dream was to have my own horse,” he laughs softly, “My mom promised to get me one once I finished my tour in the army,” he shakes his head, “I guess I still want one. Some things don’t change,” He gives another long, thoughtful pause, “I don’t think about what I want, so much. Everything that I want is for other people. I want Jack to be happy, and healthy, and able. I want my mom to have the life she deserves. I want my family to stay together. I… I think I want kids, at some point,” he blushes, “Not sure about the whole heir thing. Doesn’t seem fair to put a kid through all that,” he grows serious again, “I do want to make the world better. I know I can’t stop all the evil that exists out there, but… I can make it a little bit better.” Rose smiles sadly, and looks at David with deep affection. David, “What do you want?” Rose shakes her head, “I can’t have it.” David, “Why not?” Rose, “I want my husband back.” She sniffs, and a tear rolls down her face. She wipes it away. Rose, “You remind me of Silas. You really do. You remind me of the Silas that I fell in love with, that hardly anyone else got to see. He wanted all the same things you do. I think about him so much. I always see him, a young king, still starry-eyed and full of dreams. I’d lay next to him in bed and he’d say, ‘We’re gonna do great things, Rose,’” she sniffs and wipes away more tears. David, softly, “What went wrong?” Rose looks at him, “Honestly, I think you know the answer to that better than I do.” They exchange sad smiles. Rose looks away and wipes away more tears, “I wake up every day feeling like someone tore my heart out and replaced it with some awful weight. I carry it around all day, and it’s so heavy. Silas was trying to be good, he just… he didn’t know how. Not like you do. So instead he had greatness. It’s up to you, now, to turn that greatness into goodness.” David, “A long time ago, I learned not to rely on hope. Hope alone won’t win you a war. If you want any kind of success, you have to be realistic and be honest with yourself. I’ve sent so long fighting a war where hope is just that- hope. I’m kind of scared to say it out loud, like I might jinx it or something… But I think now, we have reason to hope. I’m not going to have the life I’ve dreamed of, but… I think I can be happy, and do good things.” He gives Rose a tiny smile, and she smiles back through her tears.

0 notes

courtneyvbrooks87 · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

Writing for Foreign Policy, David Gerard levies the following taunt: “Forget Bitcoin, try your mattress – cryptocurrency is about as safe as keeping your money in a sock under someone else’s bed.”

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

An entire nation’s money worn so thin there’s nothing left after years or decades of state-run banks stealing their money’s buying power by making more of it to pay the lavish bills of whoever’s got the most guns. And a nation usually has to be in really bad shape politically, under the heel of a dictatorial government for its currency to debase so badly.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

More and more zeros start getting added to the prices of everything, and then there is a government reaction and re-denomination of the currency that drops all the zeros back off again, acknowledging that adding the zeros to all the money didn’t make it worth more.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

“Bitcoin, its advocates keep saying, is the future. But in practice, it looks a lot like the distant past. Back then, you could lose your savings if your banker ran off with your money or died without revealing where it was stored. Today, there’s numerous protections in place for consumers—unless, that is, your cash is in bitcoin.”

For people who live in one of the many national economies of the world facing a currency crisis, they might be more likely to lose their savings or find the banker has run off with their money if they keep it in their national bank accounts or even its cash banknotes.

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

David Gerard really shouldn’t joke about keeping money in a sock under a mattress. For 10 million Americans, something like that is the closest to a checking or savings account they have. They are the unbanked. You have heard of the homeless.

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

“In Canada, the Quadriga cryptocurrency exchange has gone into bankruptcy protection, leaving its customers bust. An exchange is roughly like a bank for bitcoin; they make your money easier to use in practice. But unlike a bank, there’s usually no guarantees, protections, or reassurances that your money and its holder won’t disappear to a remote island. Quadriga’s founder, Gerald Cotten, apparently died in December. Quadriga finally revealed the news in January, and shortly after the exchange applied for protection from nearly $190 million in outstanding liabilities as it scrambled to find any lurking assets.”

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

This amazingly proverbial story should serve as fair warning to people getting into the crypto space that you might want to think about how you minimize the exposure of your crypto assets to these kinds of risks.

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Letting an exchange hold the keys to your cryptocoins and trusting them not to make a stupid mistake, not to get hacked, not to steal your coins and disappear, not to die – is missing out on one of the great features that make cryptocoins highly valued and sought after commodities.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

When their cash and savings disappeared because the banks stole it by relentlessly pumping reserves full of new money, the problem was a bottleneck problem like the bizarre policy of making Gerald Cotten solely responsible for extremely critical information for tens of millions of dollars’ worth of crypto assets.

In the case of these hyperinflationary events, the bottleneck isn’t an information bottleneck, it’s a bottleneck of control. Only a very select few elite financial bureaucrats get to control the total amount of fiat currencies that aren’t strictly backed by a one to one ratio of a reserve of some hard commodity like gold.

With Bitcoin, the total amount of bitcoins is limited by the protocol, and anybody with a computer capable of running the software can play by the same rules as everybody else to earn bitcoin (though these days mining is restricted to specialized computers).

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

Gerard proceeds to make the dubious claim that Bitcoin has failed over a cryptocurrency exchange owner dying and his customers losing tens of millions of dollars. It’s got to be one of the least considerate screeds I have read in the cryptosphere.

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

“This wasn’t a unique problem. Quadriga’s collapse follows from the nature of bitcoin and why it failed as an electronic form of cash, leaving people worldwide stranded in its wake. Most financial institutions with thousands of customers and millions of dollars in holdings have bureaucratic and technical systems in place for such misfortunes. Unfortunately, Quadriga did not—and that’s sadly typical of exchanges.”

“Does Gerard have anything better to say?,” I’m wondering at this point in the article, than to kick Bitcoin while a bunch of people are hurting and suffering from enormous losses from a terrible situation? What’s the lesson to learn from this?

I’ve already written what I think is an important lesson not to learn the hard way from this and given some practical advice to people interested in saving some of their money using bitcoin, as well as an overview of why people in many places around the world will be motivated to use cryptocurrency.

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Spoiler: He does not. He just thinks it’s a fine time to roast Bitcoin on Foreign Policy by calling out the terrible, costly mistakes of an exchange owner who just died and using that to gloat over the failure of Bitcoin. The dialogue has really sunk to a new low.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

#IFTTT #Cryptocurrency and Bitcoin

0 notes

mccartneynathxzw83 · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

0 notes

teiraymondmccoy78 · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

0 notes

vanessawestwcrtr5 · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

0 notes

bobbynolanios88 · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

#IFTTT #Cryptocurrency and Bitcoin

0 notes

adrianjenkins952wblr · 6 years

Text

This Anti-Bitcoin Op-Ed Just Took the QuadrigaCX Dialogue to a New Low

David Gerard Lays into Bitcoin

Clearly, David Gerard is not a fan of cryptocurrency.

Yeah, tell that to the guy whose kids are playing with his change for a cup of coffee.

You’re going to need a bigger mattress.| Source: Archives of Mount Holyoke College

No really. What if your money doesn’t fit under your mattress?

It’s happened to many people before.

Hyperinflation Happened in Germany after World War I

Hyperinflation destroyed the German economy after The Great War. | Source: Public Domain

And it’s no joke.

It’s very serious when something like this happens.

The French Third Republic levied its first income tax to pay for the war.

But German Emperor Wilhelm II and the unanimously approving German parliament chose to suspend the convertibility of Deutschmarks to gold.

They financed the war with debt and monetized the government’s debt with paper notes.

The results were strange and ground German economic productivity to a halt.

Hyperinflation Happened in Zimbabwe in the 90s

That’s a lot of zeros. | Source: Wikimedia Commons

Look at the issue date on those.

And you thought the Fed made a lot of money in 2008.

Hyperinflation is Happening in Venezuela Now

Venezuela’s economy has been roiled by million-plus percent inflation. | Source: Flickr

This image of Venezuelan bolívar fuerte 50,000, 20,000, 10,000, and 5,000 Bs.F. banknotes is on Flickr with the caption:

“El dinero representa poder, también energía. Sólo que con él no se compra la paz.”

“The money represents power, also energy. Only with him peace is not bought.”

Power and energy cannot buy peace. It’s true. El precio de la libertad es la eterna vigilancia.

Sometime last year in late 2018 the Venezuelan government converted the bolívar fuerte to the bolívar soberano at a rate of 1 Bs.S. to 100,000 Bs.F.

So that 50,000 bolívar bill pictured above is now a fiddy cent piece.

The Strange and Terrifying World of Hyperinflation

It’s ridiculous and strange to be sure.

When hyperinflation hits, there is a sudden exponential growth in the amount of circulating currency including that in banks’ reserves and subsequent exponential growth in prices.

It made the money worth massively less.

While brazenly redistributing massive amounts of wealth from the people furthest downstream in the economy from the source of new fiat money flooding into it…

To the people furthest upstream and closest to the source of the new money, the ones who got to spend each new round of money first before it debased the currency.

First World Problems: Could Hyperinflation Happen to You?

Hyperinflation isn’t necessarily just a problem in third-world countries. | Source: FRED

Sure, maybe you’re reading this from a first-world country, wondering: “Could hyperinflation actually happen to me?”

Maybe.

People facing hyperinflation are the use cases for Bitcoin:

youtube

Gerard says in his Foreign Policy op-ed:

So Don’t Talk To Me About Mattresses, Mr. Gerard

Some estimates place their numbers at around half a million in the United States.

But the FDIC estimates as many as 10 million American adults are bankless.

Rest in Peace, Gerald Cotten

Gerard goes on to say:

This was a very unfortunate turn of events for a lot of people, not least of whom was Gerald Cotten, who died at a young age from Crohn’s disease while running an important business.

Warning: Minimize Your Exposure to These Risks!

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security. | Source: Shutterstock

Bitcoin was envisioned primarily as private digital coins with built-in bank security, so that you would not have to trust any institution or third party to safeguard your own bitcoins for you.

Fiat Money Has Critical Bottlenecks Too – By Design

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value. | Source: Shutterstock

People holding currencies that are devalued like those banknotes above have also put their trust in a third party to safeguard their money as a reliable store of value.

Punching Down in the Wake of the QuadrigaCX Saga is Bad Form

I don’t know if that was intentional or not, but boy does it show some lack of awareness. Or at least where I’m from this would be considered very cold and profoundly inconsiderate:

Does Gerard have anything better than a quip about stashing your cash in your bed?

Disclaimer: The views expressed in the article are solely those of the author and do not represent those of, nor should they be attributed to, CCN.

Original Source http://bit.ly/2NfPEuk

#IFTTT #Cryptocurrency and Bitcoin

0 notes

eastithoughtyousaidweest · 7 years

Text

Laos is More

7/11

Ok fair warning, I’ve only gotten about 3.5 hours of sleep in the last 24, and most of it was on a plane, so I wanna make this fast. But I had to write about my first day in Vientiane, the capital of Laos, because it’s been killer.

My flight from Hong Kong was 3 hours, then a 6 hour layover from 12am to 6am in the Kuala Lumpur airport in Malaysia (where I’ll be back at in 5 days lawl), and then another 3 hours to Vientiane. Luckily, the KL airport is pretty nice, with trees and lounge chairs and abundant outlets. So I worked on my Malaysia film the whole time, which was solid.

I arrived in Vientiane and took a taxi to the hotel where Christina (who is a great friend of mine from Northwestern) and her group of 5 other students are staying while they take Lao language classes and Laos history classes at the nearby university. I got immediate good vibes when my cab driver, without prompting, started teaching me how to say “hello” and “thank you” in Laos (see list below). We spent most of the ride doing a vocab lesson, with various interruptions for him to point out cool spots. Vila was his name. A homie indeed.

The hotel itself is nice; a bed, hot water, A/C, a western toilet, so I can’t complain. I met up with Christina for lunch at 12, and got some fried noodles with chicken at a little restaurant down the street that reminded me a lot of Masaya, the city I stayed in in Nicaragua. All the tables and chairs were plastic, and the nylon tablecloths were covered in giant Pepsi logos. Loved it.

The rest of the day, I sat in on her Laos history class and learned about the various conquerors and movements for independence (Siam aka Thai, then French, then free but screwed by the U.S. during the Vietnam War. For more info, read this: https://www.economist.com/news/books-and-arts/21714972-how-unremitting-decade-long-bombing-campaign-affected-small-southeast-asian).

After class, which I mostly dozed off through cause jet lag, we walked to this amazing Buddhist temple called That Luang. It’s a huge golden spike with colorful, elaborate buildings all around it, all hosting shrines to the Buddha, paintings of the Buddha’s life, and amazing sculptures of dragons and gods and spirits. We walked around talking about religion and commercialization of holy places and admiring the artistry of it all.

Then we walked around an amazing food market, this enclosed tunnel with food stalls on both sides, long tables covered in skewered meat, huge bowls of sautéed veggies, intestines and rice wrapped in lotus leaves like tamales, and bubble tea in plastic bags. Other plastic bags served another function; they were attached to fans above the food, where they swung around like ghosts, keeping flies away. I got a pork bun, which made me SOOO happy because they’re my favorite food from China and I didn’t get to eat any in the airport yesterday and I thought I’d never see them again.

We actually ended up going back there for dinner, and I got a plastic bag of spicy green vegetables and some skewered spiced hardboiled eggs. We went with these two women from England, Jess and ____, who we actually met on our way out of the hotel. They were looking for English speakers, and lo and behold, we speak English. We took them to the market, chatted about Islamophobia in England and Trump in the US (of course), and then made some plans for me to meet up with them tomorrow while Stina’s in class and go to a cool park. The beauty of traveling and spontaneity.

Anyway, so far I’ve been super impressed by Stina’s Lao skills, and have felt super welcomed by all the smiling Lao people who say “hello” when we walk down the street, even if they don’t speak any other English. Sure, we have the foreigner exoticism going for us, but their genuine smiles tell me it’s also just true friendliness, and I’m psyched to explore that more tomorrow.

<3 Scaht

New Words (these are spelled how they sound in my head, not necessarily how the English spelling is supposed to be)

• Sabaidee-hello

• La kon- Be well

• Pope gon mai-see you later

• Ka lu nah-please

• Buo-no

• Kop chai-thank you

• Kawhy suh-my name is….

• Hong nam yu sai?-Where is the bathroom?

• Phuh-noodles

• Nung-one

• Song-two

• Sam-three

• Ha-five

• Hok-six

• Sip-ten

• Sao-twenty

• Poi-hundred

• Pan-thousand

7/15

The Mekong River, also known as the Nam Khong in Lao and Thai, is the world’s 12th longest river, and it winds its pretty little way through China, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, Cambodia and Vietnam. And today we spent a glorious day riding its currents.

Christina and I signed up literally 15 minutes before this tour agency our friend on the trip told us about last night. We roped in two other guys who are part of Christina’s program in Laos as well, Russell and Devon.

We started at 8:30 am after my hostel, which I’m paying $6 a night for, made me a beautiful omelet and half a baguette, as well as fresh fruit, for breakfast. God damn. Analong, our guide, was probably about 28 or 29, and had a big smile as he greeted us. We hopped in a van with him and headed to pick up the kayaks and hit the river.

On our way, we drove on a bumpy dirt rode, clanking up and down through potholes, surrounded by steep mountains blanketed in deep green brush. Pineapple farms, rice paddies, cornfields and more lined the road, and wooden stalls every few hundred feet sold huge piles of fresh pineapple; Analong told us it was pineapple season, and judging by the amazingly sweet chunks we ate a lunch, I believe him.

We entered the river off a muddy, unmarked gravel bank, Christina and I in one kayak and Russell and Devon in the other, with Analong and our other guide Jim in a third. The sun was bright and hot, and as Analong explained safety stuff to us, I could already feel my bare toes roasting like chicken nuggets, but once we started paddling, the breeze as we sliced through the water kept me cool.

As we paddled through the greenish-brown river, we passed fishermen in long, thin wooden canoes, farmers taking a break from their riverside fields, and a bunch of other tourists, mostly in motorized canoes drive by Lao men. But the traffic wasn’t too bad, and there was no way it could take away from the peacefulness of flowing down the river, chatting sometimes, other times just looking around taking in the palm trees and thick jungle and river weeds and mountains in the distance.

After about 45 minutes, we stopped at a park called Tad Sae, where a little waterfall ran down over big mossy boulders into multiple pools. Tourists, white Asian and Lao, all were splashing around and swimming, or hiking along the shaded dirt trails around the water. In the corner, there was a big shaded pagoda where about 6 elephants stood around, wooden seats strapped to their backs for tourists to ride them. It made me sad to see, but the good news is that Analong told me a new law was passed last year that will phase out elephant riding and send all elephants to a sanctuary within the next few years. However, when I Googled this, I didn’t find anything, so it’s unclear where this info came from.

Anyway, the best part of the park was about to come my way, because as we turned down a path, a little black monkey, so fuzzy and arms as long as his body, came hopping up to us. His pupils were huge, making his whole eyes look black, and he made little chirp chirp noises as he jumped up at our feet. Then he grabbed onto Christina’s leg and yanked himself onto her outstretched arm, swinging there from his hands like it was a branch. After exploring her a bit, I put my arm out and he swung over to me.

The minute I touched him I knew I was in love. I have a very clear memory of where my monkey visions began. I don’t know if it was an actual dream or a daydream, but at some point when I was maybe six years old, I had a vivid picture in my head appear: I was an adult. I arrived home from work, and opened my front door. Down the long hallway in front of me came bounding a little fuzzy monkey, just like this one, who clambered up my leg and sat down on my shoulder, overjoyed to see me, as I was him.

So you can see why this moment was special, a culmination of over a decade of longing for something that I had damn near given up on. I named him Nam Kong, after the Nam Khong river plus King Kong. I played with him for like half an hour, watching him swing around stair railings, scamper around people’s picnic tables and just generally be adorable. He was so smart, finding a water bottle with a lemon in it and trying to open it up, and taking things right out of my hand with his. It really was amazing how many human-like qualities he had. Even though he was ultimately more interested in people with food than my heart full of love, I understand why, and I believe that our short encounter was only the beginning of my long term monkey fantasies being realized.

I love you Nam Kong. May your days be merry and bright, and may all your bananas be ripe.

<3 Scaht

Some More New Lao Words

• Tao dai?-How much?

• Saeb-good

• Saeb bo?-Is it good?

• Saeb Saeb (high pitched)-Very good

• Buo pen yong-You’re welcome/no problem

7/16

Just some quick things I learned and reflections on Laos while I sit in the Vientiane airport for 6 hours between my flight from Luang Prabang to here and my flight from here to Malaysia:

Fun Laos Facts

According to my tour guide Analong yesterday, Laos is 20 percent more expensive to live in than any other country in Southeast Asia. I don’t know all the details, but from what I learned, it seems like this is because of the high price of many goods and the high price of electricity. Laos needs to import a lot of its goods because it’s a landlocked country and has no ports, which makes them costlier. Also, Laos generates a ton of electricity from hydropower, but this doesn’t stop the energy from being very pricey; some think this is because electricity is being exported to neighboring countries to benefit the company investors, and then resold to Laos at higher prices.

Many Lao people believe the Mekong River is haunted by spirits, which made our tour guide Jim afraid to fish in it

Buddhist monks in Laos are highly respected, and one shouldn’t even get close to them or it’s considered disrespectful. You’re also supposed to sit down when they pass by you. They even get priority boarding on some airlines.

In Laos, feet are considered dirty and the head is considered holy. It’s very insulting to point your feet at someone, and you’re not supposed to touch anybody’s head

China is investing in a ton of huge projects in Laos, including a high-speed railway connecting the two countries and a bunch of fancy hotels

Reflections

People in Laos that I met, from drivers of tuk tuks (motorcycles with carts on back that act as taxis) to street food stall owners, were all very friendly. Tuk tuk drivers were almost always chatting with Christina when they saw she spoke a little Lao, and on the flipside, every shop owner who I ungracefully tried to buy things from was very patient and worked to communicate with me, whether that was through improvised hand signals or calling over their kids or friends who spoke some English.

As a communist country, Laos made me more curious about how their system works, and how much it’s stuck to the ideals of communism that many revolutions, such as the one here, based their ideologies on. Gotta learn some more.

After visiting so many beautiful Buddhist temples, or wat, I feel really ignorant about Buddhism as a religion, and I definitely want to learn more. Gotta break out of those Judeo-Christian boundaries.

I am SOOOO thankful to Christina for hosting me here and bringing me along on her adventures. Even though she’s only 3 weeks in and is still learning so much herself, she took me to all the coolest places she’d seen, and even better, she was so down to just wander together and discover new things. Plus I feel like we got to dive deep into conversations about each other, and I learned so much about her, which is a lot harder to do when school and work and everything prevents you from just spending time with people. I’m so excited to read her blog and see how her first long-term study abroad experience shifts and shapes her.

When we were kayaking yesterday, I told her I thought we had good boating chemistry cause we hadn’t had any issue the whole time coordinating our paddles. I’ma take that a step further and say we have good chemistry period. Christina and I have been through a lot together, but just like my trip with Ben, experiencing this whole new place with her felt really special, and I can’t wait to do it again sometime.

Kop chai lai lai, Christina and Laos. Pop gun mai.

<3 Scaht

0 notes