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#none of these are conspiracy theories; they’re all real thinks happening today
alaffy · 1 year
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Nancy Drew, Ep. 1x04 – The Haunted Ring
Still not sold on the characters yet, but I do feel as though I’m not as annoyed by them anymore. I do like how we seem to have these two mysteries going on.  I wonder if they will somehow have a connection in the end.  It’s just strange that Lucy would be so present just as everything else is happening.  
The episode starts with Nancy wondering about Bess and if she’s the killer.  However, strange things begin happening in the house. First the two hear the crackle of electricity and they find the source of the sound is coming from the front porch light.  Then, the microwaves turns and the glass panel breaks.  Then a light turns on, which they go towards.  The light turns off, but the tv turns on.  On the tv is the video Nancy recorded of Tiffany.  The video plays and then the tv’s screen breaks. Nancy’s dad comes downstairs and asks what happened to the tv.  Nancy says it might have been a fuse.  Nancy and Bess go upstairs.  Bess believes Lucy is trying to warn Nancy, like the day at the morgue.  Nancy says it was a glitch; but that’s because Nancy’s other theory is that Lucy is warning Nancy about Bess.
Nancy has a dream about her past.  Nancy’s mom, who’s clearly in the final stages (well, tv version of it), wants Nancy to go to her Winter Formal, although Nancy would rather stay home.  Nancy kisses her mother goodbye and suddenly she’s in front of her mother’s grave.  Nancy wakes up.  
She goes downstairs and Carson asks her about Bess.  Nancy says she’s here visiting her aunt and that she’s a Martin.  Bess comes downstairs and Carson asks Bess about Diana. He then asks her how Diana’s surgery went, which Bess says went well.  But the way Bess says it makes Nancy perk up, as it sounds a little too hesitant. Carson says he’s not going to be home until late, as he will be with Ryan. Today is Tiffany’s funeral.  Oh, and here’s an interesting thing, turns out that the coroner’s report is back and Tiffany died of natural causes.  You think a father would mention that earlier to the daughter who’s CONSIDERED A SUSPECT IN HER DEATH.  Oh well, we all know it’s bs; even if Carson says there’s no conspiracy.  
Bess is happy because this means they’re not suspects anymore.  Of course, Nancy knows better and she’s afraid that it might be Bess.  Because this is how we’re getting to know our characters; false accusations that somehow people just forgive.  In Ace’s episode next?
So, Nancy goes to the Marina and talks to someone who works for the Marvins and has done so for 20 years. Nancy says Bess stayed at her house last night, which leaves him confused.  Turns out the Marvins haven’t mentioned any Bess (which we all knew was coming).  
Nancy calls Nick, who’s busy setting up a hidden camera that’s pointed directly at a safe in his loft. Nick still has the bonds, because he’s afraid he’ll look suspicious as he can’t really tell anyone where he got them from.  Both Nick and Nancy agree there’s no way the autopsy is real.  However, while Nancy still wants to investigate, Nick knows that this may be the only way to make sure none of them have to worry about going to jail.  
Nancy buys a newspaper and is about to read the headline, but the paper is snatched out of her hands by…oh, for God’s sake…Tiffany’s sister and the last living Tandy.  Laura is on her way to the police station to complain about them not solving her sister’s murder yet.  Laura clearly doesn’t understand how any of this works, which is weird because she’s clearly seems like the type to use money to get away with crime. But she is right that the whole husband being broke and cheating on his wife is suspicious.  
The McGinnis calls Ace and tells him he wants Ace to follow Laura.  Ace points out that McGinnis should have trained people to do this. But McGinnis reminds Ace that Ace has a history with Laura and a deal with McGinnis.  
Couple of quick things. Bess is in the restaurant’s locker area, where she starts to hear whispers. Nancy tells George and Bess she’s still looking into Tiffany’s death, which they aren’t happy with.  
Bess goes into the freezer and shuts the door.  She slips on Tiffany’s ring, and it seem to relax her (indicating that maybe her theft has some psychological issue attached to it).  At this point, Bess hears the whispering coming from the vent. Bess gets closer and the vent cover bursts off. In the main area, Nancy and George hear Bess scream.  The find her on the floor of the freezer, crying. There are long scratch marks on the back of her legs.  
Nancy and George get Bess over to a bench to attend to her wounds (and immediately forget to do anything about them), George realizes that Bess is wearing Tiffany’s ring.  Bess said she found it in the parking lot that night and she kept it.  By the time she realized it was Tiffany’s ring, she was a suspect and couldn’t give it to the police.  Also, she says sparkly things calm her down, which does make it seem like there’s a psychological factor to this.  
George, who now believes in ghosts after last episode, wonders why a ghost would randomly attack a person.  Nancy doesn’t think it’s Lucy.  George wonders if it might be Tiffany since Bess has the ring.  George thinks she may know someone who can help but needs to go find her.
Meanwhile, Ace is following Nancy who’s…buying Gusher’s at what looks to be a fundraising table?  Ace needs to learn how to tail people, because Nancy knew he was following her for a couple of hours.  And the gushers, plus an album, is for him for his effort. Ok, maybe she’s not as bad as I thought.  Of course, she wants to know why, after no contact for a year, he’s suddenly following her.  He makes some excuse, and they start to catch up.
We find out that Laura’s last call with Tiffany ended in a fight.  Tiffany was working up the courage to divorce Ryan and Laura told her to suck it up (Which I’m not sure if she meant suck it up and divorce him or stay in the marriage).  She asks Ace if he knows anything.  He tells her about how some of his coworkers were brought in and about the 911 call. She asks if he can hack into the system so she could hear it.  He says he doesn’t do it anymore, but…doe eyes.  
Carson is with Ryan, having him sign some papers.  Apparently, Ryan’s family is setting up a fund in Tiffany’s name.  Ryan asks about the next steps in getting Tiffany’s money, which Carson isn’t comfortable with.  But Carson tells him he just needs the autopsy report and death certificate, and he can file them in probate court.  
Nancy breaks into Bess’s locker and finds a British Passport under the name of Bess Turani.  Bess catches her and Nancy demands that she tell her who she really is.  This is broken up by George who calls a team meeting.  It turns out the person George was looking for is her mother who’s a clairvoyant and an alcoholic.  
Bess shows the mother the scratches she got and…what the hell?  I think some of those may need stiches.  The mother says that the scratches are the work of a new ghost. She says that the ghost doesn’t know what it’s doing.  It’s probably Tiffany but she’s not trying to hurt anyone, she just wants help.  But she probably wants the ring back because it’s special (really?), so they need to put it back on Tiffany’s finger.  That will get Tiffany back to her body.  Then they need to place a mirror over her heart, so that she knows she’s going into the right body.    
So, the three come up with a plan to get the ring on the body.  Nancy will be there to let George know when the coast is clear, and George will put the ring on Tiffany’s finger.  And Bess will be there too.  Nancy talks to George after they make the plan.  It turns out that George wants to do it as she realizes her affair was Ryan was wrong and wants to do whatever it takes to give Tiffany peace.  
Nancy goes home to change and, uh, what the hell is this scene?  Nancy finds the autopsy report lying on Carson’s desk (WHY?!) and she reads it.  As she finishes, Carson comes home.  Nancy tells Carson that the autopsy is a lie because it doesn’t mention a needle puncture wound.  Carson asks why there would be a puncture wound and Nancy tells him because she stole some of Tiffany’s blood (Carson must really regret taking on his daughter’s case by now).  Understandably Carson is upset.  But Nancy argues that she’s only looking out for Tiffany, not the Hudson’s like her father. Carson points out that he’s only doing it because of the medical bills and because on Nancy’s bail; to which she replies that he’s using his daughter and dead wife as an excuse to be a hypocrite. Look, on the one hand I understand that Nancy is still grieving the loss of her mother; but on the other hand, damn girl you are getting on my nerves. (And is it bad that, as I was editing this paragraph, I could not stop laughing because of how ridiculous this sounds?).
At the funeral: Ryan won’t look at the casket; Bess is trying to avoid the Marvins; and Nick is understandably upset.  And, yeah, maybe Laura isn’t so bad as she comes up to Nick and thanks him for being a good friend to her sister.  Ace tells McGinnis that he talked to Laura and that she doesn’t know anything that McGinnis doesn’t know.  Diana Marvin does speak to Bess, but she clearly doesn’t know her.
George tries to put the ring on Tiffany’s finger; but is interrupted by Ryan and his father coming into the room.  She hides under the catafalque.  Ryan’s dad is an ass and pretty much saw Tiffany as a piece of meat.  They leave and George is able to put the ring on the finger, but doesn’t put the mirror on her chest.  
At the end of the funeral, Nancy confronts Bess about her lies.  Bess is British and she isn’t staying with the Marvin’s; but she might be telling the truth she is a Marvin.  Maybe.  Bess grew up in London and her mother used to tell her that they were descendants of this family.  But, as they were poor, Bess wasn’t sure if this was true or something her mother made up (I’m guessing if it were a lie she would’ve picked something more regal then some American family, but that’s just me).  And so Bess decided to cross the Atlantic to GET THE DNA of one of these Marvins to find out if it’s true.  (Oh boy, another show where all the main characters need therapy).  And, if it turns out to be true, she’s going to let the family know. Sure.
At the graveside Ryan’s father, Everette, starts to give a speech (no way in hell I’m calling it a eulogy); when suddenly the 911 tape is played over the speakers.  This is Nancy’s way of saying that Tiffany was murdered, and the Hudson’s are covering up.  She tells everyone she going to prove it and she storms out of the service, as she puts on her sunglasses (all we need “Won’t Get Fooled Again” to start and…).  
McGinnis believes that Ace stole the 911 call, though Ace says he didn’t, and it’s clear that the deal probably involves Ace being a snitch so as not to be prosecuted for some hacker stuff.  
I haven’t felt right about Karen since the last episode.  Now, there may be a reason why.  We do find out that Karen was in the same class as Lucy, but she says she didn’t know her well.  And that there was a bloody knife and tire tracks connected to the case.  But Karen’s there to ask Nancy if she’s visited her mom’s grave.  Long story short, we find out Nancy’s angry at her father because he didn’t call her at the dance to let her know her mother was about to die; but he didn’t call her because the mother didn’t want him to.  So, Nancy never got to say goodbye.  It’s one of those things that I can understand both sides.  Carson thought he was doing the right thing, Nancy has a right to be angry, and they both need therapy.  Not trivializing it; just it’s clear neither are handling their grief well.
Meanwhile, George apologizes at Tiffany’s graveside.  As she does so, it looks like Tiffany’s spirit rises from the grave and possesses…George’s purse?  (I know, I know the mirror’s inside).  
So, at the press conference, Carson decides not to go along with the lie and says that he believes the autopsy is inconclusive.  Ryan says Carson made a big mistake and Everette says it won’t be as easy for Carson to leave the family this time (are they the Mafia or something?).  
Nancy tracks down Ace to apologize for releasing the tape.  She also says she did miss him and wondered why he didn’t keep up with her.  It’s because she left, according to him.  But then, he admits it was because their relationship was intense.
Nick comes home and someone has been in his loft.  The bonds are still in the safe, but the box the bonds were in clearly has been moved.
Nancy watches the video of Tiffany and sees that Tiffany did, in fact, drop her ring.  Then we see an image of drowned Lucy and the computer screen shatters.  She and Bess have a heart to heart.  
Afterwards, Nancy realizes the broken glass on her computer, the microwave, and the tv are all the same pattern.  It’s a map of the town and the epicenter of the crack leads her to the high school.  
Nick is able to see on his camera that it was Nancy who went through the box, and it looks like she pulled out a USB?
Meanwhile, at the school, Nancy finds a picture of Lucy and Karen and they look pretty close.  
George leaves the restaurant and is possessed by Tiffany.  
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writingvenusian · 4 years
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United States Rebel Academia
Because there are structures of power and influence taking advantage of us everyday and there is nothing more dark academia than learning information that is technically free to the public but largely brushed over by people in power because they don’t want anyone to see it. In these times the act of learning is resistance.
(This is 95% USA because I live there, but if you’d like to make a Rebel Academia post for the country you know most intimately, please go ahead! Even if your following is tiny or you only have a few bullet points for your country, we’d all love to see it! I know I would!)
Reading PDFs of documents stamped with “classified” that were released during court proceedings
Listening to the podcast Swindled to learn about “true stories of white-collar criminals, con artists, and corporate evil” that have “shaped our world in unimaginable ways. All in the name of greed.”
Reading Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis, watching 13TH, watching Just Mercy, taking notes from Bryan Stevenson’s TED Talk, and devouring everything you can get your hands on to understand the prison industry
Earrings made to look like black roses
Listening to the podcast series White Lies to understand how easily the justice system can be rigged in favour of the ruling majority, how the Jim Crow era still lives on, and what it means to be white in America
On that note: Listening to 1619 and Natal to understand how racism emenates from every system today and Code Switch to address how that racism has woven its way into you
Letting your facial hair grow out a little bit over the weekend to feel like a haggard investigative reporter
Reading the actual text of laws, court rulings, and executive orders instead of summaries
Falling in love with Oyez
Fighting tooth and nail against your ingrained bigotry, checking your privilege every time you notice it, accepting criticism of your bias graciously and without lashing out and immediately working to fix your mistake
Reading Counter-Intelligence: A Documentary Look at America’s Secret Police to understand some of the corruption of the FBI
And learning about some of the CIA’s interesting little gigs
Deep black coffee, animated conversations late into the night, consoling shaken parents
Being well aware that the Russian disinformation and misinformation campaigns are still going stronger than ever, and protecting oneself by getting world information from legitimate newssource, and refusing to spread conspiracy theories (even to make fun of them) with the knowledge that by spreading them one risks presenting them to the less critical among us and endangering them
Educating yourself about Russian disinformation campaigns by listening to their history, reading Spies, Election Meddling, And Disinformation: Past And Present by Calder Walton, reading A Guide to the Russian Toolbox of Election Meddling: a Platform to Analyse the Long Term Comprehensive Kremlin Strategy of Malign Influence by Marius Lauriavičius, and (if one has the time) the Report On The Investigation Into Russian Interference In The 2016 Presidential Election by Special Counsel Robert S. Mueller, III
Putting on a calming lofi playlist to hum along to while reading PDFs
Completely disregarding clickbait
Taking mental health breaks and taking Yana Buhrer Tavanier’s advice from her TED Talk on Activism Burnout
Learning what the Communication Management Units are
Watching Poverty Inc. to understand more about nonprofits and how they can function as an unexpected tool of neocolonialism
Listening to episodes of Stuff You Missed In History Class to get the stories ignored by traditional textbooks
Learning everything you can about the human trafficking industry (here are a few basics)
Voting and contacting representatives
Obviously, this all only scratches the surface. I’m only sixteen, and I’ve only just started figuring out what to look out for and where to find reliable resources on the corruption and chaos built into my world. I beg of you, do more research. You cannot fight what you do not know is there. May we learn together for the good of our nation and humanity.
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boxoftheskyking · 3 years
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Pick Up Every Piece - Part One
Ok things to know: -this does not take place in China. It does not take place in the US. It is the year 2000 in a fictional country that I control (this project is a challenge called Let’s Do Exposition). Just go with it. -It’s all talking. That’s what I do, you know this. -Warnings for stuff, I dunno I haven’t written it all yet. When it’s shiny it’ll go on AO3 but for now here’s what I got so far.  -There is a lot of alcohol in this fic -Like all fic writers I live on positive reinforcement and this shit is a lot of work. -The title may change, yes it is from NMH
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There are bodies in the creek bed. Enough bodies to stop the flow of the water. Thirty at least, a dam of them. An old woman and a child. Clothes and hair sodden, darkened and wet. Clouds of darkness hovering in the air around them, seeping into dead flesh. An old woman and a child and others. Others in that middle age, the age that passes comment. Is it wrong that these two bodies stand out to him? After all, if he were among the bodies, if he was lying in this creek bed, thirty, skinny, and unremarkable, he would hardly notice himself. He’d blend into the pile, only serving to make the word a plural. Body becomes Bodies. Alters the language. Murder becomes Massacre. There are thirty bodies and hundreds, thousands of flies. Crawling on the back of the little boy’s hand. A smell like—not burning, not quite. Death. Not rot, fresh death. The sand under his feet is nearly dry. The creek bed is dry.
Wei Ying blinks. The creek burbles on alongside him, one duck lazily riding the current under a fallen branch and along to somewhere more interesting. It’s October, and beautiful, and there’s the smallest twilight bite in the air pricking at his nostrils on every inhale. He blows out a long breath and finds himself scratching at his arms, the backs of his hands, where the old scars are. They’re ugly, blotchy and dark like land masses on a faded old map, and they still itch sometimes. He rubs at them hard with the heel of his palm—it’s a weird half-feeling, the layers of dead tissue. It’s not dead, Wen Qing would correct him. It’s not necrotic, it’s just scarring. 
He steps around the gnarled roots that reach up from the banks, trying to get to the road but not ever making it. There’s a few muddy stuffed bears tucked among them, plastic wrap snagged on the bark from cheap drugstore bunches of flowers that have rotted away. A couple of carefully hand-painted wooden signs nailed to the trunks, trying to convince the place that people still remember.
He shakes himself and turns away from the woods, hopping the fence onto the road that leads to the bar. He’s late, but Li Chen is always late in the mornings so he deserves to work an extra fifteen minutes. It’s not like there’s a manager to yell at him.
The bar is across the street from an old gas station, one that got firebombed during the war and then left. That’s the thing about Yiling. Everywhere else, even up in Gusu, the cities have gotten rid of as much evidence as possible. Well, they’ve gotten rid of most and turned the rest into memorials to the victorious dead, nice and shiny and flying the Sunshot flag. Nobody really cares about appearances around Yiling—maybe the city council does, but they don’t have anywhere near the budget to run cleanup. Too much actual infrastructure got hit during the worst of the fighting, and they’ll be years behind the rest of the country for the next decade or so. Memorials here are all handmade, and none of them last long.
There’s a flag, though, spray painted on what’s left of the concrete wall of the gas station. A golden hand covering most of a red sun, partly covered by black—one finger for each of the four leading clans and a thumb for everyone else. Typical. He’s not sure who’d have painted a Sunshot here. No one local, he’d put money on it. He supposes they know about spray paint in Lanling—governments must adapt.
It’s probably intentional, anyway, the lack of cleanup. The lack of progress. Nightless City can be repurposed by the Jin government, but the site of the Massacre should stay ugly and busted for a few more years. So no one forgets what it looks like to lose.
Wei Ying likes it in Yiling. “It’s my kind of town,” he always tells Jiang Cheng, who usually throws something at his head. “You want to be a bartender in a town like this. In a town like this, people need a bartender. It’s nice to be needed, you know.” 
It’s a shitty bar by any other place’s standards, but for Yiling it’s cozy. The owner, who everyone just calls Granny, still orders sawdust for the floors like it’s 1860 or something, to soak up spills and puke and, occasionally, blood.
Jiang Cheng always says it’s only a matter of time before they have murder in the bar. “Manslaughter, at least,” he’ll say. “It’s just got that look.” Wei Ying says everyone in Yiling’s too tired. Mostly he and Wen Ning just roll drunks out onto the sidewalk and into a cab if someone can afford it. 
Jiang Cheng himself comes in around eight. It’s as much of a rush as they ever get, so he has to wait for a few old men to get their cheap lager and gin before sliding up to the bar on his usual stool. Wen Ning gives him a cheerful salute as he comes in, and Jiang Cheng nods awkwardly back at him.
“You’re back early,” Wei Ying says, drawing him a pint of something bitter. Jiang Cheng still lives in Yunmeng, in the old family home, but he has a sublet in Yiling now that he’s working for the intelligence department. Jin Zixuan calls it “cutting his teeth” monitoring old Wen strongholds. Jiang Cheng calls it “shoveling shit.”
It turns out cleaning up a civil war is a pain in the ass, even five years later.
“We should do lunch with Wen Qing on Saturday. She’ll want to see you.”
Jiang Cheng pulls out his annoying little planner, full of his cramped handwriting and meetings with this informant and that police sergeant. “Have to be brunch, I’ve got a twelve-thirty on Saturday.”
Wei Ying snorts at him. “Brunch, in Yiling. Good luck.”
“Hangover breakfast, then.”
“That we can do.”
Jiang Cheng takes a long pull of his beer and Wei Ying can see the relief run down him from the crown of his head down over his shoulders like something hot and slippery. Oil maybe, or homemade noodles. He groans and drops his head down behind his glass.
“Hey, Wei Ying!” An arthritic hand waves at him from the other end of the bar.
“Gotcha, Riseung,” he calls and starts fishing for the kahlua and cream. It’s always at the back of the cooler; no one else ever orders it. “You’re gonna work yourself into an early grave,” he tosses back at Jiang Cheng. 
“Not if you keep giving me beer.”
“Hey, Wei Ying, I saw that story last week. Hell of a thing.” Li Riseung has a little cream mustache, but Wei Ying’s not going to mention it.
“The gas thing?” Wei Ying grins at him. “Yeah, I’m telling you, it’s all connected. You watch the prices when Lanling tries to pass another referendum. It’s all supposed to soften you up. You got something for me today?”
“Still writing your conspiracy theories?” Jiang Cheng calls to him. “Some guys just don’t know when to quit.”
(Someone else comes up, he pulls a pint of stout.)
Riseung bristles. “Wei Ying is the only real journalist left in this country. You’ll see.”
Wei Ying props his chin on his folded hands and waits. Riseung takes another long sip. “Yu Xiuying’s got her popcorn maker up and running. She’s starting to sell what she can, make enough to get the theater back in order.”
“Really? That would be something. I’m sick of taking the train every time I want to see a movie.”
“You should report on that, get her some customers.”
Wei Ying drums his fingers on his chin. “Maybe we can work out an ad situation. I need more ads, you know. Papers ain’t cheap.”
Riseung finishes his drink, sets the glass down on the bar. He half-reaches for his pocket. “So, do I owe you, or . . .”
Wei Ying stifles a sigh. Technically it’s nothing he can use. He’s not about to publish an expose on popcorn. Still, he waves a hand. “Your money’s no good here. Go on, keep up the good work.”
The man grins up at him, flashing a row of silver fillings, and heads over to bother someone else. 
(Another customer—rum and Coke.)
“You’re just letting people drink for free, huh?” Jiang Cheng says. Wei Ying wanders back over to him, taking a sip of his own drink (coffee, plus whiskey, just enough to get through the shift).
“Reporting is all about cultivating sources, Jiang Cheng, even you should know that. Li Riseung is a source.”
“A source,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “He’s a drunk.”
“So’s everyone. This whole country’s full of drunks. Drunks make the world go around.”
Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “This city is fucking depressing.”
“Oh, and all of Lanling’s sober, is it? Yunmeng? Everybody’s living like Lans? You’d be much more pleasant with a few more of these in you.” Wei Ying grabs his pint glass and dumps the end of it out, refilling in the same smooth movement. It’s just out of spite. He shouldn’t be wasting a good few ounces of genuinely nice beer. But he can’t help it; Jiang Cheng brings it out in him. He spins and shimmies a bit to the bad pop song coming from the busted speaker above him and grabs a bin of limes to chop.
“When are you going to come home?”
Wei Ying doesn’t slip and cut himself, but it’s close.
“I live in Yiling, Jiang Cheng.”
“Yeah, for now.”
Wei Ying sighs. “I like it here, okay? You think they’d let me back in Yunmeng, after everything?”
“I’ve got influence now. They wouldn’t say anything.”
(Two lagers, shot of tequila.)
He hasn’t lived in Yunmeng in years. Almost a decade now. He was in Yunmeng at the start of everything, when Wen Ruohan was forced out of office and half the military went with him. He visits now, but there’s still that sense of before when he’s there, like the majority of his life hasn’t happened yet. But Jiang Cheng is never going to get that, he’s a linear person.
“Not saying anything isn’t the same as allowing. I’m not going to make you fight all day just so I can work at some bougie wine bar somewhere.”
“You wouldn’t have to work at a bar. You could—”
“What? Write? You think anyone anywhere is going to hire me at a paper again? Despite all the rumors, you’re not that dumb.”
“Fuck off. You could work with me.”
“Intelligence. Really? How do you think that would work out? ‘Yes, Jin Zixuan, whatever you say, Jin Zixuan—’”
“Fuck off.” 
Wei Ying shakes his head and scrapes a pile of lime wedges back in the bin. “I like where I am. I’ve got the paper—”
“It’s not a paper.”
Wei Ying doesn’t slam the knife down, but it’s a close thing. “Jiang Cheng—”
“You’re such a fucking martyr. What, you lose your dream job so you go to the ass crack of the world and set yourself up as king of nowhere?”
“I’m not king of anything, I’m just writing.”
(Three glasses of white wine.)
“Yiling Laozu.” Jiang Cheng clicks his tongue. “I know you can’t use your real name, but that’s embarrassing. Laozu. You and your sources.”
Wei Ying takes a breath and unclenches his jaw. “If Wen Qing were here you wouldn’t be calling us embarrassing.” 
“You’re embarrassing. She’s not embarrassing.”
“It’s our paper.”
“Wen Qing has dignity. You have none.”
Wei Ying gathers up his knife and cutting board to run them back to the dish pit. “Ah, Jiang Cheng, you love me. I know you do.”
It’s always a good way to end a conversation, their own private code. If you keep pushing here you’re going to break something. A warning. You love me. I know you do. Jiang Cheng doesn't ever deny it, but he never agrees either. He doesn't need to. Wei Ying has proof. The scars on the back of his hands, curling around his wrists and up his arms—burn scars, chemical burns—are proof. Jiang Cheng doesn't like to look at his hands. That's proof too. 
 When he comes back out, Jiang Cheng isn’t alone. The general noise of the bar has fallen to a murmur, and the rowdy game of dominoes is paused in the corner.
 Xue Yang is sprawled over two stools, dressed in shiny black leather and grinning a few inches away from Jiang Cheng’s face.
“How’s it going, Captain Jiang?”
Jiang Cheng leans away. “I don’t see you. You are not here.”
“Course not. Good boy.”
Jiang Cheng’s hand tightens around his glass, and Wei Ying picks up the pace slightly. 
“Leave him alone, Xue Yang,” he says, carefully mild.
The grin turns on him, and Xue Yang waves, his weird little black prosthesis sticking out like a lighting-struck tree. “You telling me what to do, Wei Ying?” 
“I would never. Here, have a drink. If you want.” He pours him a double from his own secret bottle, the one Granny gave him on a good night in the summer. It’s painfully ironic—Xue Yang would be the only person in Yiling who could afford it if he ever actually paid for it.
Wei Ying nods to him and slides the glass across the bar, along with the usual brown envelope. Jiang Cheng sighs and spins around on his stool, looking away.
“Feels light,” Xue Yang says, like always.
“It’s not,” Wei Ying says, also like always. 
Xue Yang grins around the little white stick hanging out of his mouth, and Wei Ying grins back. “Eight percent extra on anything you’re short next time.”
“It’s not short. And it’s five percent, don’t try to fuck with me.” Wei Ying smiles wider and does not blink.
“Maybe it’s changed.”
“Granny would tell me, and she wouldn’t hear it from you.”
“Maybe it’s changing today.” Xue Yang leans across the bar, not quite getting in his face, but close enough. Wei Ying meets Wen Ning’s eye over his shoulder. Wen Ning takes a few steps away from the door, but Wei Ying shakes his head just a fraction and he goes still.
“You don’t have the authority.” Wei Ying lets his grin go a little unnatural at the corners, a little bit of a snarl. “And it’s not short, so it doesn’t matter.”
Xue Yang laughs and tucks the envelope into his jacket, then takes a long swig. Wei Ying breathes, finally, quiet and careful.
“Xue Yang,” he says as he starts to wipe down the bar again. “You know you wound me.”
Xue Yang wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Oh do I?”
“You know it hurts me, deep down in the soul parts of my body, to see you drink top shelf scotch with a fucking sucker in your mouth.” 
Xue Yang sticks out his tongue so Wei Ying can see the little yellow nub of it. “It’s pineapple.” 
“Great. Thank you. I’m going to go drink bleach now.”
Jiang Cheng half turns to glare at him. “That’s not fucking funny.”
Xue Yang chugs the rest of the scotch and tosses the empty glass at Wei Ying. He hates that it makes him flinch before he catches it. “Tell Granny I say hi.”
“Fuck off.”
“Hey, where’s the little one? Haven’t seen her in a minute.”
Wei Ying stiffens. “You’ll stay away from her if you cherish the rest of those fingers.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Xue Yang gives him a mocking salute and saunters back out towards the door. He’s nearly out when he knocks into an empty chair, sending it to the floor with a crack like a gunshot. No one hits the deck completely, but the held-breath silence turns into a gasp as all eyes snap to the sound, shoulders up and hands braced on tabletops, thighs tensed and ready to run. 
Even Xue Yang is frozen at the door for a second. He laughs, though his jaw is tight. “Just a chair, ladies and gentlemen. Clean this shit up, Wen Ning.” And he’s gone.
Wei Ying deflates, adding some of the good scotch to his own cup. Jiang Cheng makes a face.
“How’s that coffee?”
“Shut up.”
“You should let me talk to Zixuan.”
“You talk to him every day.”
“You know what I mean. How long have you been paying—”
Wei Ying sighs and flicks his rag at his brother. “Thing one: I don’t pay, Granny pays. Thing two: Xue Yang is just a low level street thug with connections, he’s as in charge of the operation as I am in charge of Yiling. Thing three: it all kicks up to the Jins at the end of the day, so what are they gonna do about it?”
“Zixuan isn’t—”
“Yeah, I know your best pal is the paragon of morality.”
(Scotch and soda, root beer, gin and tonic, and three pints.)
“He’s our brother-in-law.”
“And your brother-in-arms, I know, I’d never dare disparage the mighty—”
“He’s a nicer brother than you are.”
Wei Ying mimes a faint. “I’m going to call Shijie, tell her you’re being mean to me.”
Jiang Cheng goes quiet, looks down at his beer. Wei Ying reaches out for it, an offering.
“Another?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head. “I shouldn’t.” A chunk of his hair comes loose from its tie, feathers across his forehead.
“When are you gonna cut that hair, huh?” Wei Ying flicks it back over his ear. Jiang Cheng swipes at his hand lazily.
“I like it like this.”
“You and Zixuan are twins now, huh? You cultivators. Does Lan Zhan still keep his long, do you think?”
“Dunno. Haven’t seen him in a long time. Stop it, leave it, I have it how I want it.”
Wei Ying laughs at him. “Looks good. Dignified. Hey, did you ever ask for Zidian back?”
Jiang Cheng’s face does something complicated, a little bitter. “Not gonna happen. No spiritual weapons are gonna be authorized any time soon.”
“Yeah, but it’s yours.”
“It’s not mine. It’s the government’s.”
“But it responds to you. What good does it do locked away in—”
“Leave it, Wei Ying. I know you’ve got opinions about cultivation, but I’m fucking tired and it’s not going to change anything.”
“Well, when you’re in charge. Then you’ll show ‘em.”
That does make Jiang Cheng laugh, which is satisfying.
(Two gin and tonics.)
“Hey, you’re not allowed—” Wen Ning calls from the door, followed by the tap-tap of a metal cane. Wei Ying sighs and reaches for the grenadine.
“Wei Ying, you son of a bitch.” The voice is high, reedy, and cackling. “How the hell are ya?”
“A-Qing,” Wei Ying calls mildly. “You can’t be here.”
“Where is here?” she yells, as always. “How am I supposed to know that? Can’t you tell I’m blind?”
“Get out of my bar.”
“Discrimination!” She makes her way across the room, purposely bumping into every occupied table on her way over, just to slosh beer onto the floor.
“You’re fourteen.” He has her cherry soda on the bar by the time she hops up on the stool next to Jiang Cheng, ignoring him entirely.
“And how do you know that, creepy old man?”
“You made me get you a cake for your birthday, you goblin.”
“Who’s this guy?” She takes a long slurping suck from her straw.
“My didi.”
“You—!” Jiang Cheng hates it, which is the only reason Wei Ying says it.
“Ooh, the famous Jiang Cheng. I bet he looks real grumpy.”
“Yep.”
Jiang Cheng flips him off. He grins and goes back to wiping down the drain.
“He just flipped you off, didn’t he?”
“Yep.”
“Nice.” She finishes her drink and slams the glass down. “Double vodka please.”
“Nope.”
“I drink vodka all the time.”
“Don’t care. I’m not getting fired over your sorry ass. Go drink at home.”
“I’m not allowed vodka at the home.”
“And you’re not allowed here either.” He drops the rag back into the sanitizer and leans his elbows on the bar. “Now, are you here with something interesting or just to pester me?”
Jiang Cheng looks like he’s about to interject, but Wei Ying waves him off.
“I can multitask,” A-Qing says before pushing her glass back across the bar. “More sugar first.”
“Diabetes on the rocks, yes madam.”
She takes a long slurping pull, and he folds his arms, waiting. 
“Got a new TV at the home. Real big one.”
“A-Qing, I’m waiting.”
Jiang Cheng squints at her. “How do you know how big the TV is?”
“I just know, okay. Anyway. One of the older kids got it. Bought it himself.”
“Yeah, right,” Wei Ying says. He needs to challenge her if she’s going to give him the whole story. If he seems too interested she’ll draw it out just to fuck with him.
“He did. Wen Changming.”
“A Wen?” Jiang Cheng asks.
Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “Lots of Wens in the children’s home. I wonder why.”
Jiang Cheng makes a sour face at him.
“He’s got cash to burn, suddenly. Pockets full.”
“Gee, I wonder how you found that out.”
A-Qing grins at him. “He’s not gonna miss it. He’s in the club now.”
���The club?”
“You know, the club. What do you call it? Do crimes, get money.”
“Mob? Syndicate? Criminal organization?” Jiang Cheng offers.
“So they’re recruiting at the home, that’s what you’re telling me? Is it Xue Yang?”
A-Qing blows bubbles in her soda. “I don’t know, maybe.”
“Must be desperate.”
“You do the same thing.”
“I do not.”
She holds out a hand. He sighs and passes over a couple of bills. 
“You staying there tonight?” he asks, all casual.
“Maybe. The girls are annoying. Should be nice outside.”
“Starting to get cold.”
“Not really. Only if you’re a pussy.”
“You call me if you need to crash. Here.” He drops a couple of coins in front of her. “I’ll be home after midnight.”
“Sure thing, boss,” she says, pocketing the change. She gives a little salute and hops off her stool. “So long, Wen Ning!” she shouts, walking right at him and making him hop out of the way.
She’s not really blind, of course. Wei Ying’s never brought it up—he knows, but he’s not sure she knows that he knows. One of the nights she crashed at his apartment, months ago, he caught her reading through one of his binders of old clippings—‘91, back before the start of the war, when he was still in Gusu. It kind of kills him, because he wants to ask her what she thought of them. What she remembers from back then, if there’s anything. But they don’t talk about anything serious, not if they can help it.
“Please tell me you don’t have a teenage girl staying at your place,” Jiang Cheng says. Wei Ying gives him a great sigh and grabs his rag again.
“Only when she's got no other place to go. Oh, I have a futon now! You’d see it if you ever came over.”
“Wow, great, you're thirty years old and you have a secondhand futon. Mother would be so proud.”
“I didn't say it was secondhand.”
“Wei Ying, trust me, you do not need to.”
 (Four pints.)
Wei Ying makes a face at him. “So mean.”
“It’s weird that she stays with you.”
Wei Wuxian sighs again. “Jiang Cheng.”
“It is. It’s weird.”
“If it’s a bad night at the home then she sleeps outside. I don’t like her sleeping outside, so she stays with me. When she’s not being ornery.”
“She’s a teenage girl.”
“She’s a baby.”
“Not your baby. Why would she sleep outside anyway? Yiling sucks.”
“The home sucks. Look, it’s an orphan thing. You wouldn’t understand.”
Jiang Cheng pouts. “Hey, I’m an orphan.”
“No you’re not, you’re a grown up.”
(Whiskey, neat.)
“You’re a grownup. My parents are dead; I’m an orphan.”
“Then everyone’s a fucking orphan in this country. The word’s lost all meaning. From now on, if your parents were alive when you were ten, you’re not an orphan. Find a new word, leave ours alone.”
“You’re such a jackass.”
“Jackass! Yes, that’s a good word.”
Jiang Cheng sighs and gets off his stool. He tosses cash down on the bar, though Wei Ying tries to wave him off.
“Oh, you’re going to want to get a flag up in here,” he says, off-hand as he turns to go. 
Wei Ying freezes. “Excuse me?”
“Coming down from on high, it’s going to be a new ordinance. To keep the liquor license.”
“The fuck does a flag have to do with our liquor license?”
Jiang Cheng holds up his hands. “I’m just the messenger.”
“I’m not letting the Sunshot flag through these doors.”
Jiang Cheng turns back to him, serious. “Look, I know you have your own . . . feelings—”
“Feelings?” he almost spits, spreading his hands out on the bar.
Jiang Cheng winces and does not look at them. “You have your reasons, I’m not arguing that. But Yiling’s a part of the Republic and people need to get used to it. You don’t have to like it, but your district rep is going to announce the policy in the next week, and I don’t want to see you— Don’t go out of your way to make life difficult, all right? It’s hard enough already.”
Wei Ying says nothing, just leans back and watches the rag twist and untwist between his hands.
“See you Saturday,” Jiang Cheng offers, hesitates, then leaves.
Wei Ying will close up. They close early, still, kick everyone out before midnight. Old habits. He’ll go home and work on his column, the one corner of the paper Wen Qing leaves for whatever he wants. (Literally, the column is called “Whatever.”) Maybe A-Qing will find a pay phone and call him, if she hasn’t spent or hidden the change, or maybe she’ll just show up and lean on the buzzer until he lets her in. He’ll sleep better, if she’s there. He was never meant to live alone.
And he’ll wake up tomorrow, and try to do it all again.
Part Two
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Italy has the highest cases/1M population, highest number of new cases and new deaths yet no one is complaining about Italians or their service? (Not that I think we should and it's horrifying how it got there but people's reactions are VERY telling *cough*any excuse to be racist*cough*)
For real tho
-People ain’t going up to the Ariana Grandes or any other whiteys that tan like crazy and punching them because they Italian or assumed to be.
-Ain’t no Italian Americans losing business or having their cultures or languages made fun of.
-Ain’t nobody boycotting Spaghetti Factories, Olive Gardens, pizza parlors, or any other kind of restaurant that’s assumed to be Italian.
-Nobody is saying that Italians eat bats, snakes, armadillos, and other random shit.
-Fake videos ain’t popping up showing Italians doing some shady shit.
-I haven’t heard about any conspiracy theories about Italy developing biochemical weapons and trying to infect the world and shit.
-White vegans on Instagram ain’t posting racist shit towards Italy like they’re doing to China.
-If a white person coughs, ain’t nobody questioning them that they might be Italian and might have the virus.
Like the only thing I’ve read about is that Italy has a rise of cases/deaths, some shops have closed, and they’re on a countrywide lockdown. Like I’m not saying anything bad needs to happen to Italy/Italians for anyone to care but if you look at the way Asian folks and whites are treated in the face of the coronavirus scare, it’s completely different. People empathize more with potential coronavirus white victims than they do with Asian victims that have it right now.
I read that they’re saying the next epicenter of the coronavirus is in Europe and I’m just like yo that’s karma for being so racist, bitch. And not only that, it seems like they care more about the hypothetical “next epicenter” than they do the original epicenter that’s suffering in real life already. Tbh I ain’t got no empathy for any non-Asians that’s gonna potentially suffer through this next because none of them cared about when Chinese/Asian folks were suffering through it, even in reality today.
Speaking of, two Asian women (one in London, the other in Manhattan) and an Asian man (in Harlem) today were punched, kicked, and pushed for being Asian. And they were all three individual, unrelated cases.
Angry Asian Guy
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unorthodoxx-page · 3 years
Text
Blurb #2 - Numbers and Monsters
I’m not going to lie, this one was hard to write.  I couldn’t really find a voice or figure out what story I really wanted to tell.  I’ve given myself a time limit when it comes to these blurbs as to not over think them, and I used every last second.  
All in all, I think its ok, but not really great.  
As always, let me know what you think!
P.S:  This was also a book idea but idk.  It’s not really speaking to me.
THE BEGINNING
It started in Andorra, or that’s what the ICTF tells us, it’s hard to be sure.  It happens like this.  Twenty years ago, an Andorran boy named Biel posts a picture of a mysterious tattoo on his arm.  It’s a simple tattoo really, just eight small numbers going down the length of his forearm. In the post he claims to have no idea where it came from or what the numbers represents; and he asks if anyone else experienced the same phenomenon.  The post receives little attention, a few comments mentioning dates and hoaxes, but doesn’t break over fifteen likes, and why would it?  There’s nothing interesting or remarkable about the post, just a blurry candid shot of his arm.  So, it gets lost in a sea of viral hopefuls turned losers, their account holders sighing in disappointment when their special moments are deemed mediocre by the world.  There’s nothing about it after that, and there’s a half-hearted vacation pic on his Facebook the following day.
Ten days later an avalanche in Arinsal buries Biel and his mysterious tattoo along with him.  His accounts are deactivated, and the world keeps scrolling.
Sometime later, a blurry picture comes out of a small town near Konkan Hills, India. The picture shows a ritual of some sort, capturing a man praying over a child.  Old as the land he kneels on, mouth frozen in hymn, he sprinkles the girl in vibrant dust.  this picture captures the hearts of a small group of photographers.  Some call him a Pujari, due to the religious nature of the ceremony, while other academics are hesitant to label him as such since no one really recognizes the ritual.  It’s a small argument and it gains some traction in a tight circle of religious scholars, but the influence is negligible.  Either way, the priest gains some notoriety as a testament to older and unknown practices still being performed in isolated areas, but he’s not important.
What’s important is the child.  The young girl, no older than 10, sitting before the man.  She is surrounded by flowers and incense and shrouded in a simple white gown.  Her head down and posture demure, she accepts the prayer with a rare grace that’s not typically found in one so young, but that’s not really important either.  What is important are the eight black numbers peaking just above her dress collar.  
A mudslide swallows the town two weeks later.
This keeps happening.
Barbara goes missing in Yellowstone, Lucas disappears in the Australian outback, Hiroto’s tragic death in Toyama Prefecture.  Akim.  Kofi.  Camila. Daiyu, and many, many others.  No one takes note but a fringe conspiracy group called The Knowing.  They saw the important parts, which were the tattoos of course.  A few of the victims took pictures of these new additions to their bodies before their timely demise.  Posts and text messages claiming that they woke up with the numbers on their bodies. Each laughed off by loved ones or the internet labelling them pranks or hoaxes.  Which isn’t unusual, there was an epidemic of pranks that crossed the line back in those days, so it was easy to write them off as such.  The placements weren’t identical, but the eight digits is what connected all the victims.  The Knowing talked about it day and night, cataloging each new victim they could, trying to map out a pattern.  They were close, but unsuccessful.  Both in their investigation and attempts to spread the word.  There was a huge global problem happening, and the world was none the wiser.
Until Anderson Keery.
Two years after Biel, an up-and-coming actor is invited to an up-and-coming talk show.  Vivian Lance has worked hard to get where she is, toiled and struggled in every network she PA’d and Anchored for to finally get this reward. It’s her debut morning and her first guest matches the infancy of her career. Anderson’s not a nobody, but he’s definitely not famous enough to draw a significant audience.  They have less than a hundred guests in attendance, but for right now it’s enough.  It’s a standard interview, going over his ups and downs until the big reveal of his casting in a major studio franchise.  The crowd will go wild and hopefully her ratings will too.  
Vivian is ready to launch herself into history.  Oprah didn’t become Oprah in a night.  It takes time to become a legend, and Vivian Lance was on the road to becoming one.
The interview goes smoothly until it doesn’t.  Vivian receives a note from her PA that a fight broke out between Anderson and his team before he came on set.  She doesn’t need to guess why they’re telling her this.
“So,” she begins.  The interviews been going well, but now it’s time to shake things up a bit. “A little birdy told me there were some issues with your team?  Is everything ok?”
Anderson’s smile stretches and she knowns she’s asked the right question.  He cuts her a look, aryan features twitching in anger before he controls himself.  Ooh, a temper problem.  She definitely needs to poke at this.
“Oh,” He laughs, “It was nothing.  My team just played a little prank on me.”
The crowd chuckles and oohs on que and she leans forward, smiling conspiratorially.  “Don’t hold out on us.  What was it?”
His glare is scorching, yet polite.  Anderson didn’t want to be here anymore than she wanted him as a guest.  Both believed that they were better than where they were at that precise moment.  Or at least that’s what history tells us.
“They put a fake tattoo on me while I was sleeping.” Anderson smiles sheepishly, throwing a shy look to the cameras.  “I kind of flipped because I thought it was real.”
“Really!” Vivian laughs, leaning back to really sell it.  The crowd laughs with her.  “Can you show us?  Or would it be……..inappropriate?”
The crowd whistles and catcalls.  Anderson laughs again and turns his back to her, pulling down his collar.  “Here.  I hope the back of my neck is safe for TV.”
“One..one..two,” she leans forward to read the rest, “three…two…zero…two…four?”
“I know,” He deadpans, “It doesn’t make sense to me either.”
Vivian sits for a moment, before jumping up, shocking her audience and guest.  “Wait! Its eleven, twenty-three, twenty twenty-four.  That’s today date!”
“Wow,” Anderson replies, and the crowd burst into laughter.  “I guess you’re right.”
“Why todays date?”
“You’ll have to ask them. I’m still-.”
The building shakes and the camera falls, throwing Vivian and Anderson onto the floor.  The crowd screams and someone shouts “Earthquake!” before a bone chilling, tonal wail fills the building.  It cuts through the noise and leaves nothing but silence in its wake.
Vivian is the only one still fully in frame.  Her face is wide in fear and confusion, “What-?”
The building shakes again, debris starts falling, the air is filled with screams of fear and despair before the camera goes black.
The reports after that are a little fuzzy, but here’s what we know.  During Vivian's first live broadcast, in the middle of the day, something destroyed the Studio.  Conflicting reports from eyewitnesses will say it was a bomb, another will say a plane, but most will say a Hand.  An open palm reaching from the heavens itself to crush the tiny building out of existence.
Everyone in the studio dies and just like that, Vivian becomes a legend overnight.  
It’s a mad scramble after that.  All major governments and internet sleuths were turning the world upside down to figure out what happened.  It took no time at all to find The Knowing, they weren’t exactly being secretive and before you knew it, they were everywhere.  Every news station was talking about it.  Outraged that the world governments hadn’t noticed an issue, even though they missed it as well.  It took one hour to figure out that the numbers were dates and two to connect that they were expirations.
The story was everywhere, and then more people started posting their numbers.  A lot were fakes, but the ones that were real?  They didn’t stand a chance.  Many hid.  Some disappearing to never be heard from again and others taking whole building and towns with them.  People were getting desperate, but what changed things again was Amanda Edmund.
Amanda was a regular girl. She had no special talents, had average grades, average looks and average friends.  The world would have never noticed her if it was for two things. One, the most important, she was the Presidents daughter, and two?  She was marked.  There was no hiding it, how could you when the girl was branded across her forehead. Some were relieved, believing that if anyone would survive and end this madness, it would be the President. There’s no way he would let his daughter parish.  The other half of the country held their breaths.
The day after Amanda’s date passed, the media converged in the middle of the Sonoran Desert.  They presented, voices stuttering and palms shaking, the death of the president and his daughter.  They reported in front of a massive hole where the president and his family had been hiding.  The aerial photo proved a lot of theories.  No one could deny the obvious finger scrapings around the edge.  To most, it looked like god himself plucked the bunker out of the dirt, but the survivor’s testimony will prove the opposite.
They spoke of the darks creatures first.  The ones that preceded The Grasp.  Gnarling, drooling things that held no shape.  They dripped, one said.  Dripped straight through the ceiling.  The smell of death and rotting flesh filled the base, another described.  They were small at first, the size of a wolf, then they got bigger.  It was a bear, the last one screamed, eyes deranged, and no sense left in his being.  With a row of teeth, a shark would be jealous of. Nothing we threw hurt it, in fact, they absorbed it.  I watched it tear a man to pieces before eating his heart.
The three survivors’ stories were horrific.  A gruesome retelling of an unbeatable foe because what else could it be?  According to them, nothing worked on these monsters, and if the president couldn’t stop them?
More people died. Politicians, poverty stricken, sinner and saints, no one was safe.  Before the world knew it, twenty years have passed by, and we are no closer to ending the threat.  The Numbered are cast out now.  They live in peace up until the night before expiration and the cities, towns and villages walk them out.  Lead them somewhere remote and their story added to the remembrance board.
It’s sick.  It’s routine, and it will keep going for years until Ahadi.
Twenty years after Biel, a boy named Ahadi woke up with eight numbers above his knee.  He knew the process, and so did his town.  The town cried over the unfortunate boy and threw him a celebration to honor his life.  His mother sobbed day and night and his father held him tight, praying for him to survive.  That night, the entire town walked him to the edge of the Congo Forest.  An Honorist took his photo, and he shared his final goodbyes with his family before walking to his final resting place.
Two days later, he walked back out.
The town was shocked. The world was shocked.  No one had ever survived an expiration.  The ICTF and world media outlets descended on the town, each wanting to know how he survived and what it meant.  Now this where things get a bit redacted.  The ICTF didn’t release a lot of details, but what we know is that the tattoo is no longer a stark black, but a faded grey color. The world took that as a sign of the boys safety and a beacon of hope.  That there is a way to survive these creatures.  When asked how he did it, Ahadi would only say one thing.
“I held my breath.”
He would say nothing else. The world theorized that he couldn’t say anything else, a price for surviving, some whisper.  A hint, others shout.  That’s all the world needed, hell that’s all she needed, because history won’t help her here.  
Aniyah doesn’t have time, in fact, she has very limited time.  Her dates been stamped, and she refuses to be one of the Remembered.  
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c0ry-c0nvoluted · 4 years
Link
READ THIS.
First off, everyone who isn’t too lazy to use their brains for something other than doing what they’re told should watch the video attached. But the only way you’ll get any benefit from it is if you’re stable enough to be objective. Remove yourself from yourself and just absorb and consider.
This video is 2 hours long. And you’ll find him (#DavidIcke) repeating his point throughout which can get trying, but it IS a valid point. That point being:
THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT.
They want us afraid and panicking and ready and willing to accept whatever aggressive measures are needed to alleviate our fear. In fact, they’ll have us pleading for these aggressive measure to be taken (that will continue well after the crisis) and then vilifying anyone who calls for our rights to freedom. “Oh, you don’t want to stay indoors? That means you don’t care about my grandma and you should be locked up.” And, “Oh, you don’t accept a mandatory vaccination because you don’t know what’s actually in it? Then you’re the monster who’s putting my children at risk and my family in danger and should be locked up.” We will all line up to shackle ourselves and everyone else around us if we’re panicked and afraid.
At the end of it all he suggests alleviating our fear of death in order to not allow ourselves to be manipulated. This is brilliant. But how do you do that? By changing your perspective on consciousness and realizing that human consciousness is not the only experience. That after we leave our bodies we move onto an entirely new form of infinite existence and consciousness, and that death is nothing but a change in perspective (and likely a fantastic one.) My opinion on this? I’ve always thought that our minds aren’t quite evolved enough to maintain consciousness as a form of energy without a body. But I meant that in the aspect of “I don’t think I will STILL BE ME.” But, considering this further, and seeing the benefits of adjusting my perspective, I realize now that, sure, I might not be me, but how is that a bad thing? I mean, even if there’s no consciousness at all, that’s STILL not a bad thing. And if there IS consciousness, it will be so much more vast and connected to the universe than it is right now trapped inside these fleshy mishaps of evolution, that the next existence may as well be called Heaven, regardless of the fact that I don’t believe in the Christian afterlife or their creation theory (or their God). And yes, it occurs to me that it’s not death we fear so much as the pain of dying. But most of that pain comes from the fear. I’d say that if you were NOT afraid to die, then you’d easily ease your suffering (while dying) by 50%, if not a whole hell of a lot more.
His ending note/concept is a bit difficult to wrap your brain around, and impossible for most (unfortunately), but for those who can grasp it, it’s fucking gold, man. It really helped ease my mind and is worth sticking around the entire interview for.
(This next part of these “Cliff Notes” is gonna get back into the “conspiracy” of it all.)
How often have you been repeatedly told to get your flu shot over the past 10 years? It’s everywhere, right? That repetition is a form of psychological manipulation. It’s gearing you up to get a vaccination that’s mandated. And that’s gearing you up for what will lead to voluntarily being ushered into a world where there are no more jobs so you’re dependent on “government” cheese, which is barely enough to survive so keeps you powerless, and you’re behavior is monitored and your “government credits” are at risk if you “behave improperly”. 
THEY ARE ALREADY DOING THIS IN CHINA TODAY USING FACIAL RECOGNITION A.I. TO MONITOR BEHAVIOR AND ADD OR SUBTRACT CREDITS ( which he discusses)
WE WILL BE NEXT.
And it’s all under the guise of “your government wants to help feed you in these terrible times but, for your safety, you will be monitored, and any negative behavior will result in penalties.” And what becomes “negative behavior”? Speaking out against the World Government. This has been written about for decades, if not longer, and has become such a scifi troupe that most believe that it’s just fantasy. But it started as a practical concept recognized by deep thinkers, seeing the inevitable outcome of a monetary society, and then was developed into stories told for entertainment. But ALSO for awareness.
  He may go a little too far for rational people when he acknowledges the possibility that #COVID19 might actually have been released purposely, but that’s not relevant because A PANDEMIC WAS INEVITABLE (because of how connected our global society is). And being inevitable, it is very easy to plan for that pandemic and manipulate our reactions to it so to push us all towards EXACTLY what they want:
TOTALITARIANISM
And if this pandemic isn’t bad enough to get us where they want us, the next one will be.
This is probably the point where, if you’ve made it this far, you’re gonna pull the Bullshit card and dismiss the whole rant. But here’s the thing:
The “conspiracy” of it all is IRRELEVANT. The fact remains that when you stand back and look at where we are headed you’ll clearly see (if you can think that far ahead, which, granted, 80% of our society is not intelligent enough to do, which is what makes this possible in the first place) that what he describes and how he describes it is in fact exactly what is happening. So whether it’s all a conspiracy or not doesn’t matter because the end result is the same. No, I’m not saying COVID-19 is a conspiracy. I believe it was just an inevitability, as mentioned above. But our reactions to it and what will happen now because of those reactions is (coincidentally?) pushing us toward the death of democracy AND THE DEATH OF OUR FREEDOM.
He goes on to point out that because this concept is so unfathomably evil we can’t possibly accept it to be true because, as far as we know, no such evil on such a grand scale can actually be real. It baffles the mind. IT MUST BE PARANOIA.
It isn’t. It’s, again, all part the inevitable outcome of a monetary based economy. How many times do we have to say this? The only outcome of a monetary based society is that eventually only one corporation will survive (even if they’re more than one at the end, they’re all working together as a conglomerate). And, in a monetary society, whoever controls all the money CONTROLS EVERYTHING.
David Icke doesn’t even touch on the money thing, which I was surprised by. He simply just puts the spotlight on "The Cult" that’s secretly manipulating our entire civilization toward the One World Government they need in order to control it all. He brings up the point of why are we locking everyone down if only the elderly and people with underlying health concerns are in danger? We should be locking THEM down (humanely) for their protection and letting everyone else go about their lives and get sick and then get over it like we always do and will. Admittedly, I’m not entirely sure about the end fatality rate, because we’re not there yet, but it makes sense that most of us, even if and when we contract it, will be absolutely fine. Granted, Americans are unhealthy as shit, so the mortality rate can end up being a bit rough, but it’s THE FEAR of that rate that allows them to sit back and let us hand over our freedom to them. THE FEAR is what will give #TheCult ultimate control over the world, and we will fucking hand it to them with praises while saying “thank you for saving us from these terrible times.”
As I was watching this, just after he mentioned that the goal is to get everyone on a government “credit-based behavioral-dependent income,” I got a news notification saying the motion was just passed to send out $1000 checks to American citizens.
Holy. Fucking. Shit. 
IT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.
What the The Cult want is for all other companies to crash leaving them the only few left that have money/power, which makes it so none of us can challenge them because anytime anyone speaks out they’ll have their "government cheese" reduced and no one else will have enough of their own to lend them. THIS IS WHY MONEY NEEDS TO BE ABOLISHED ENTIRELY. I won’t get into the details of that here but, believe me, it CAN work and WILL make EVERYTHING INSURMOUNTABLY BETTER. But just to touch on HOW it would work:
TECHNOLOGY. Society will need to be automated so people will not HAVE to work for a living. But in order for that to happen all the world's governments would have to work together to create this automated society. This is the only POSITIVE outcome of what The Cult may be pursuing. If we're lucky, when whoever wins it all has decimated the entire world's economy, they may decide to create a new and better one that does in fact abolish money and automates society. But this would be a fucking miracle beyond fathoming because it would mean that the sociopaths who killed the world were actually doing it to save it.(But this discussion goes a little too deep into "not fucking likely, bro.".)
WHAT WE CAN DO NOW TO STOP THIS IS NOT LET FEAR ALLOW THEM TO CONTROL US, ULTIMATELY CAUSING US TO HAND OVER OUR FREEDOMS TO THEM.
And no, this is not the American government’s plan. It’s not the communist party’s plan. It’s not Trump or anyone else you see in the media. They are all pawns, puppets, unknowing means to ends and have no idea what’s really happening (or are possibly part of it, yes. But that’s not likely. It’s more likely they’re just be manipulated like the rest of us.)
Watch the interview attached.
Keep an open mind.
Do not be afraid.
Death is just a change in perspective.
OUR PERCEPTIONS ARE OUR REALITY. 
-cm
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icariagazette · 3 years
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“Hi...Hey hello I am not Atti or Jasmine... I’m the editor for the show and being on the radio is uh... not my normal. But something very weird happened and I hate .... to be the one to tell you but.... both Wolfgang Jamison and Jasmine Kos have gone missing.  They had taken over the station last night and used our recording booth to record a new segment meant to air today... But uh... Well, I’ll let the recording speak for itself. This was the last known audio of the duo.”
“Hello and welcome to a special episode of Atti In The Morning. As most of you should know -- I'm not Atticus. Atticus was one of those taken earlier this year. My name is Jasmine Kos and I've been hosting the show in Atti's absence. We've been talking on and off since the first person went missing five years ago about these missing cases.Over the past five yers we've come up with some really interesting and insane theories of what has happened to our friends and family and today we decided its time to talk about all these ideas. So I've invited on an actual journalist to help us break down all these ideas and talk about all these theories.Hello Wolfgang, how are you this morning?" "Well, I'm here so that's already a decent start. Ready to discuss with you and hopefully debunk some of the more off the wall theories that I've heard floating around while writing the stories on those missing on the island." "What has been the most off the wall theory you've heard as of late? I'm sure you've heard some crazy ones, I know we've gotten some insane calls with theories. One of the most recent was that they were being replaced by the creatures that have come through the door." “See that’s not as crazy as it sounds. The doors did show up right before people began to turn up missing. I believe one of the most off the wall ones I’ve been told when interviewing residents on the island was that they weren’t missing at all but rather they all took off to start a cult ran by Chloe Vara. Which is probably the least likely to start a cult out of those missing.” “Well, that’s only partially true isn’t it?  Demigods have been going missing for five years now, but the uptick does coincide with those weird doors. Any idea what might be behind them? Beyond the one that opened at the family day party. But on the idea of Chloe, i think i rather like the idea of it being a cult run by her. At least you know they’re being well taken care of instead of this dread we all have of how they are and what’s happened to them. “ "Yes but there has never been any evidence to link the crimes now to those in the past other than no one found them. In any other part of the world that happens every single day. Growing up in New York you learned quickly that crime can happen at any point to anyone. The fact that the disappearances ramped up when the doors appear may be a coincidence but we might not find out unless those involved are found or come forward with any information. One of the things I always wondered is how Luke Decker completely vanished without a trace. Did they not have tabs on their officers at all times?" "I remember back when the first person seemingly vanished off the isle, Noreen, we all assumed she just ran away or went on some sort of extended vacation. I imagine that's sort of how it was for a lot of the people who went missing in the first couple years, back when it wasn't suggested we all live on this isle. People probably thought, 'they just went away for a bit' or because of where they lived people just chose to ignore it because of how common disappearances were in their area.  I think its massively overwhelming for isle residents because this is supposed to be a safe zone. " A beat and a breath, then,  "Which yeah -- that plays into how does a detective just vanish into thin air. You'd think after the first like 10 demi-gods went missing and the numbers ramped up they would have been tracking people's phones or something. Which -- do we know if they've been keeping a record of GPS movements of people since this has gotten so much worse?" "I would assume you are referring to Noreen Gomez? The demi-god who seemingly vanished after a fight with her girlfriend? Yeah, it might have been that way or not connected at all. These are just theories but you have to consider we're paying more attention because it's our kind that are disappearing. I just want to know why the police have only just now really started investigating the disappearances. The Gomez case has been closed for five years, they just assumed she took off. Which, alright, a demi-god goes missing and they don't bat an eyelash but how do they have no idea as to where Decker went? It makes me think that the police know more than they're letting on, which happens to avoid panic, but six months have passed since they began ramping up and we have no answers. You'd think they would be surveying everyone on the island at this point. No one else in and no one else out."
"One and the same; But yes, it appears we're all paying way more attention now than we used to. My guess as to why now compared to before would just be that one or two wasn't worth, as horrible as that sounds, all the time and energy the police department wanted to spend but now theres... 15 missing just from the isle, thats not counting those who were kidnapped off isle...It's dumb. All of it. They should have never closed the Gomez case they shouldn't even let up on the ones they're working on now. They need to search every inch of the isle, the shadows, the dark corners... all of it. I don't -- totally disagree, maybe locking down the isle could stop, or at least lead to some clues about what happened to our loved ones."
"No, I believe we are on the same page which is where my own conspiracy comes into play. I'm not sure I trust the police completely, which makes me sound as if I were a huge conspiracy theorist. Maybe I am now. Perhaps this entire situation has made me jaded and I want someone to blame, much like others do as well. I just don't understand how none of the crime scenes seemed to leave behind any trace of evidence. The entire apartment was ransacked when Atticus and Briar went missing and the same for Wesley Sullivan. Yet, they found nothing? I wonder if there's not more going on in that station." "I think the whole isle has become a giant conspiracy. We're all a bit obsessed with them now. It wouldn't surprise me either if there was a cover up, if someone in the police force is a bit to close to the kidnappers and is protecting them -- if not one of them. Its either that, or whoever is kidnapping the demi-gods is one themselves and knows what we'll look for. I just -- dont understand how no one sees them leaving the house with the person, how has no one, anywhere in the world seen anything to give us a hint at how our friends and family are going missing? Its like they’re shadows or ghosts. Which, after the door opening, I 100% believe theres ghosts running around now."
"That's my thought exactly. Something strange is going on and I want to get to the bottom of it. I know that the listeners might not know how often we get together and talk about conspiracies like this. Jasmine has become my partner in crime when it comes to this story and I do appreciate your help in what we're trying to discover. Right now, only those missing and the ones that are taking them know what is happening. What kind of creature lurks in the shadows and snatches people at night? Maybe it's Fae folk. They've been said to be tricky little things. All I know is I don't trust many people at this point."
“Yes! Wolf and i have become a bit of a duo looking into all this. It’s been sad and fun in its own way, and I’m more than happy to try and help save our friends. I also made a friend at the station, not PD but she seems pretty -- honest. We may, with her help, actually get to the bottom of this. But the idea of fae folk sounds pretty realistic to me; we have gods, creatures — who’s to say that the myths outside of Greek mythos isn’t real? I wouldn’t be surprised if all of mythology is actually real at this point. Maybe some other god from another religion is pissed off and taking children to make a point”
"Good, we need all the help we can get in getting to the bottom of this. I want to make things right for those of our peers that have been taken away from us for so long. I want to make sure they get the justice and truth that they deserve. That's a great point, it could very well be someone trying to make a point. If that were the case, the question remains what kind of point are they attempting to make right now? And how many more people have to suffer?" "I think we have lots of people on the isle that will happily help us in whatever way they can. We just have to ask and I'm sure they will. But yes i agree. We need to make sure our friends and loved ones get the justice they deserve because I can't -- seem to make any logical explanation for the reasons they're gone or why someone would be trying to make a point by kidnapping people. I just really hope they're ---" Rustling "What  -- How did you get in here?" Muffled voice "Go where? I --"  Silence
--------------------
As you can hear... someone else came into the recording booth, we’ve done everything we could to try to enhance the voice, hear what the other person said but .... nothing can be made out. Nothing makes sense.... We don’t know who or what or why this happened. All we know is when we came in this morning it was set up and recording as if they had just stepped out to go to the bathroom.... I --- I honestly don’t know what else to do or say or how the show will continue on after today... We’ll figure it out. And I’m sorry.”
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probskay · 4 years
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There was never going to be a tomorrow. Carl Matheson knew that damn well, but unfortunately no one else was willing to hear it. The first time I ever spoke to Carl was maybe last Thursday. Came by my work, bought a stale candy bar and filled up his tank.
"Some smoke out, eh?" I said to him, making small talk. 
He sneered. "Yeah. No one's doing anything about it." 
I cocked my head. "I'm not so sure about that, there are firefighters out there." 
He leaned over the counter. "You ever met one of these fire fighters?"
I laughed. He was spouting the most ridiculous conspiracy theory I'd ever heard, and you hear a lot of them working at a gas station in a strung out heroine city. "You trying to tell me fire fighters aren't real?"
He laughed too. "No you goober, I'm telling you they ain't here."
He dropped a twenty and a ten on the counter, and told me to keep the change. Great tip. $2.78.
I saw him the next day, smoking a pipe outside of a local pizza place. He was starting at the mountains in the distance. He was clearly smoking weed.
Initially, I wasn't going to talk to him. Darla and I had other places to be, but he spoke to me, first. 
"Hey, you're the kid working down in the gas station, ain'tcha?" 
"Not today, I'm off," I told him. I was already ready to leave this discussion.
"Nice to see you anyway. Name's Carl Matheson," he said. Darla bumped my arm and nodded her head, motioning for us to go. 
"Nicki Fotia," I told him. "See you later," I said. 
"I won't keep you. Stay safe. Watch out for fires," he said.
"What a weirdo," Darla said to me, once she thought he couldn't hear us. "He's been in town for maybe a week, and all he does is go off about the fires. They happen every summer, they're not a big deal. Ooooo smoke in the sky, whatever."
"You so sure about that, Darla?" I asked. "Carl told me there ain't fire fighters out there fighting those fires." 
"What would he know?" She asked. "Has he met any of them fire fighters?"
They day after that, I kissed Darla goodbye after dropping me off at work, and Carl was the first customer of the day. 
"Fancy seeing you here again," He said. "Almost like it's your job."
I chuckled. "Yeah, almost. I just like hanging around."
He dropped another twenty and another ten on the counter. He paired that with another candy bar. "$25 on the pump, plus the bar. Keep the change."
I rang him up as he was walking away. "Wait, Carl," I called out. He stopped in the door. I could feel the heat waving in.
"How do you know there aren't fire fighters fighting the wild fires?" I asked. 
He looked grave. "I used to be one." Then he walked out the door and the AC kicked on.
I told Darla about this that night, as she picked me up. She responded "So what if one fire fighter got-" she giggled- "fired?" 
"Come on, Darla, there are real forests burning down out there. Besides, you really think fire fighters don't talk to each other?"
"I guess so," she replied, "but I still don't see the connection. I mean, can the fire fighters really do anything to stop something so big? Maybe they just weren't worth the budget anymore." 
"Fire fighters are always worth the budget," I replied. 
"Guess not," Darla concluded.
Two days later, I saw Carl again. He was smoking his pipe once more, once more aromating weed, once more staring at the mountains. "Smoking sure won't help the sky," I said to him.
He chuckled. "Guess not." He took one last inhale, then put out his pipe. "You holding up, kid?"
I stood next to him and stared where he did. "As well as I can. You?" 
He sighed, a closed mouth sigh. "Not enjoying the site of the fire. It ain't right. We could be stopping this thing." 
"I guess you would know," I replied.
"Some fires burn their course, but I stopped the spread." He turned to look at me. "Caught a few before they could get big, too." 
I met his gaze. "You seem to know a lot about this, Carl. Why don't you take up fire fighting again?"
He shook his head. "My job was liquidated. So was the rest of my team. I sure as hell don't own a personal fire truck, otherwise I would be out there. Rather die alone trying to help others than die with others and help no one."
"Besides," he continued, "There isn't going to be a tomorrow." The disbelief on my face was clear, because he said more. "It's a metaphor. You know, a metaphorical tomorrow. There will be a Tuesday, don't you worry, but one day soon there won't be any more Tuesdays."
"Yeah, human extinction. A death march. That sort of thing." I knew what he was getting at. We'd all heard the news stories, the scientific reports. 
"Look at the sky, kid," He responded. "World is burning around us, and none of us are allowed to do anything to stop it."
I caught Darla up on this, too. Carl was a weirdo. 
"Told you so," she said. "Shouldn't trust weird old men who smoke marijuana out on the street. Awful fire fighter, No good role model for the kids, if you ask me." 
I laughed. "We don't have kids."
Three days later, and the smell of smoke was stronger than ever. Darla and I put fans in all of our windows to keep it out of the house. She had asthma, and the air was awful. I suggested we head east to someplace with clear skies for a weekend or so, but she wasn't having it.
She dropped me off at work, like normal. I kissed her goodbye, told her I loved her, and worked through my shift. No break. 
Darla never came to pick me up. She never picked up her phone, either. I sprinted home, and never been so fast in my life.
Our house had burned down. Carl was in my yard, trying to resuscitate Darla. She had burns on her arms. Some of our belongings were in the yard. The house was completely ablaze.
I kneeled down next to Darla. I didn't touch her.
Carl pounded on her chest and breathed his air into her for 10 minutes, but she never responded. Carl never found a pulse. I couldn't convince myself to shed a tear, no matter how badly I knew we needed tears. No ambulance ever showed up. No cops.
No fire fighters.
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codevassie · 4 years
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Code’s Top 5 TS Fics
[***Let me know if I’ve missed anything on the Content Warnings!]
[**Do Not Ask Authors for Updates!]
[*Leave these authors Comments, please and thank you!]
The Consequences of Sound by Acantha_Echo 
Status: Incomplete, Work In Progress
Summary: Anxiety hurts Thomas. It's just what he does, what he has always done. It's not what he wants. He only wants to protect him but that is easier wished for than done. When the opportunity to prove himself opens up to him, he grabs it, for once not caring about the consequences. Things go downhill from there. The fall, rise, fall (and rise again) of Virgil.
Relationships: Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP
CW: Toxic Friendships, Headaches and Migraines, Anxiety Attacks, Manipulation, Depression, Unsympathetic Deceit, Unsympathetic Remus
My thoughts: This fic is So Freaking Good, my friends. It has real estate in at least 86% of my brain. I love going back to reread my favorite parts, and sometimes when I’m rewatching episodes I’ll catch myself thinking of the fic. Right now it’s the Christmas episode bc I’m in big time daydream mode about what the current arc is going to bring. It’s got big Found Family energy, and I eat that stuff right up. It is so heart-warming to watch Virgil grow closer to them. And, yeah, the Prinxiety owns my ass. It is some real Slow Burn shit, and the little glances and soft interactions.... oh goodness. And there’s suspense too, with all the barriers Virgil has built, and the secrets he keeps. For the love of everything, give this fic a try. 
To Build A Home by AValorousChoice
Status: Completed
Summary: "There was a long silence as Virgil processed the words, his eyes darting between the pair of them. “Y-You-” he swallowed heavily. “You want to adopt me?” This was a joke. Surely, it was a joke. Nobody ever wanted him. Nobody had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in adopting him. Virgil never believed he was good enough for a loving family until the day that Patton and Logan walked into the orphanage.
Relationships: Logicality
CW: Child Abuse, Alcohol and Alcoholism, Panic Attacks, Car Accidents, Swearing, Homophobia, Minor Character Death, Animal Abuse, PTSD, Violence, Murder, Attempted Murder
My thoughts: Another Found Family for y’all. So this one is a kid!fic, which I don’t read a lot of, but have found some Really Good ones over the years. I grow really attached to characters when it feels like I’ve watched them grow up. Probably has to do with my love for character development, though not every kid!fic will have that. This one, actually, takes place over the course of less than a year of Virgil’s life after Logan and Patton adopt him. It deals with trauma and finding a place Virgil feels he belongs and is equally full of hope as it is fear. Again, watching Virgil grow close to his family - Patton, Logan, Roman, and some marvelous OCs - is so precious. And shout-out to Roman in this one bc he is the cutest, weirdest freaking kid you will ever read, and I would protect him with my life. The next one in the series is actually all about him and advances forward to when they’re teens (at which point I come across a lot of moments where I’m like “omg they’ve grown so much my heart”).
(i’d never) want once from the cherry tree by ace_corvid 
Status: Completed
Summary: Of all the notable Youtubers active today, none are perhaps as popular as Roman Prince, beauty guru extraordinaire. From small beginnings, rising popularity from his vlogs brought him to the fame he never doubted he’d relish in. But also on the up and up is the conspiracy theory and cryptid lover known by his online alias ‘Virgilant’, who reveals little about his personal life and shies from the spotlight.Despite clashing fandoms and their own preconceptions, they're dragged into a somewhat whirlwind collaboration between channels. Sparks fly, but with Virgil desperately afraid of coming out and pining for his room mate, can anything really happen? With Logan, Patton, Remy and Deceit along for the ride, watch as fear of being who you really are blossoms into something new… With more than a little romance along the way.After all, is there anything more terrifying than showing the world who you are? Alternatively; a meta media fic following the journey of Youtubers, who just so happen to be characters we know and love.
Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality
CW: Anxiety over Coming Out, Fandom Discourse Commentary
My thoughts: The funniest thing in my GD LIFE. Get this; they’re all in character, but the author has amped up their chaos levels times 100. They are undeniably themselves and it’s to an extreme. I freaking love it. And the multimedia style is so entertaining. It keeps the story at a fast pace and creates a great setting and diverse character interaction. That interaction includes banter and absolutely absurd and relatable content. Everyone’s friendships are undeniable bc they’re constantly roasting one another but you can tell they’d kill for each other. So good. This fic is so good. Please go read.
lavender for luck by lovelylogans
Status: Completed
Summary: Virgil's uncle can cast spells, and read fortunes, and hear houses talk through their noisy creaks. Virgil's father had, too, when he was alive, and their mother before them. Virgil was born with the family's tawny eyes, the family's pale skin, and the family's magic. And the people they fall in love with—or, at least, the ones who love them back—all die, which is why Virgil knows he can never take the chance of having that for himself. A Practical Magic inspired au
Relationships: LAMP
CW: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Parental Death, Spiders, Animal Cruelty, Swearing, Arguing, Physical Confrontation 
My thoughts: Magical realism, secrets, excellent characterization. The border between reality and magic in this AU is seamless. I love the normality of magic in these types of stories, and this one didn’t even have magic as a Thing for most of the world. Magic wasn’t a regular thing, yet the author made it so normal to Virgil’s life... it was phenomenal. And the character interactions... they are so sweet on each other omg. And it isn’t really rushed either. There is time skips, but they don’t break apart the fic too harshly, instead enhancing the time they’ve gotten to know one another. Deceit’s character is so much fun too. He doesn’t take shit, but he also really cares. And the whole uncovering Virgil’s life is so interesting, both what we know and the characters don’t, or stuff we don’t know and Virgil won’t talk about. It creates excellent tension. So I guess I have to go read Practical Magic now (which this fic is based off of) and you have to go read this.
dreams are the second form of reality by Flooftheriver
Status: Incomplete, Work In Progress
Summary: Roman’s creative capabilities stretch further than anywhere any of the sides realise he can go- sometimes even Roman himself. He can craft intricate worlds from nothing, invent people out of mere whispers of an idea, all for the purpose of filling the night with adventure. His dreams are so strong in fact, that they can unknowingly pull others in, bending them to the will of the story he is creating. So what happens when he dreams up a Prince, and finds he needs somebody to play the role?
Relationships: Prinxiety, Logicality
CW: Possible Character Death, Weird Shadow Monsters, Minor Violence, Blood and Violence
My thoughts: So it’s set in canon in place of AA. Which means we get some lovely angst in the form of Virgil thinking everyone hates him. And I’m super stoked to watch him get that Acceptance he deserves. You know what we call that? Growth. Let’s get that character development y’all. For now, however, he’s in Roman’s dreamworld and trying to make sure Roman doesn’t realize it’s actually him or he’ll get kicked out of the best thing in his life. So we have secrets, which creates great tension, and things going... strange in the dreamworld. Also, the Prinxiety is cute as heck - loving that slow burn holy crip - alright go read it.
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Fictober Prompt #20: “You could talk about it, you know?”
Fandom: Supergirl:
Pairing: AgentCorp (Alex x Lena)
Warnings: None
When Alex gets the call, she starts packing immediately. She calls Kara on the way to the airport and texts Eliza, but no matter what they say, she’s going. Research is something that Alex can do mindlessly. It requires focus, yes, but when she’s in the zone, nothing else matters. Alex also likes trying new things. Her ex had called her adventurous in the bedroom but old reliable in real life and Alex hated her so much for it, that she took a contract position in Metropolis for six months. Alex was tired of being that person. Predictable. She wanted something more. 
And then, there’s what happened four months ago. But that? Alex never talks about. 
These days, Alex goes with the flow and if that means being one of seventy-five researchers boarding a ship from Norway and embarking on a year-long arctic expedition, then so be it. She knows the training itself will be difficult. This isn’t just about research, it’s about mental and physical stability and Alex has to dig deep to remain consistent and convince everyone that she’s prepared. 
When they actually embark, Alex has a backpack filled with letters written from Kara. Most of them are supportive, plenty are questioning, but Alex’s replies have always been good. Positive. She’s ready. She can’t deal with real-life right now. 
The actual expedition begins with a bang. Champagne in the main cafeteria and some kind of stew that looks like it would weigh Alex down. Alex lingers around a few other researchers, who she’d call friends at this point, and pokes around at some bread. “I’m more of a whiskey girl myself,” Someone says a few tables over. Alex pokes her head up, recognizing the voice almost immediately. Lena Luthor. A brilliant mind, a no-bullshit attitude, Alex had been warned at least a dozen times to stay away from her. She bought herself onto this ship, Derek had muttered to Alex when they’d received their wetsuits and gear. 
Alex was used to men undermining her, so she took his words with a grain of salt, but she had to wonder. Almost everyone had made their research intentions clear by now, but Lena was still a mystery. Alex discards her plate and approaches Lena. Alex unzips her jacket and flashes the flask she has in her double-layered jacket. “Wanna take a walk?” 
“Absolutely,” Lena says, eagerly following Alex. 
A walk was maybe pushing it, but avoiding the congestion of the mess hall, Lena and Alex find an empty lab with a small lounge area. Lena sits on the couch first but Alex holds out her hand. “I’m Alex.”
“Yeah, I know and I suspect you know who I am.” Lena grabs the flask out of Alex’s pocket without hesitation. “Saw you on the range, pretty impressive.”
“Army.”
“I figured.” Alex didn’t know that anyone had been paying attention to her, let alone someone as well known as Lena. Alex believes that Lena’s intentions must be something greater. This isn’t just about publicity. The amount of training involved alone would make most people quit on day one. Lena had struggled with some of the tactical elements. She was terrible with her shotgun and not very good at getting into her harness during their helicopter drills. But Lena was persistent and Alex could see it in her eyes, even as they traded a flask filled with whiskey back and forth. “You’re studying polar bear movement and health?”
“Yep.” Alex kicks back and sinks into the couch. “You must be on the small scale climate change team.”
“Team?” 
“You guys are like the cool kids. We’re the dweebs,” Alex smiles. “You’re doing the 2-1-2 rotation?”
“Yeah, you too, right?” Alex nods. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” Alex doesn’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing but she decides that she won’t ignore this friendship in favor of isolating herself.  
In her first week on the ship, Alex manages to finally come up with a proper thesis. She’s prepared to write a paper on this when the mission is over but she’s a bit rusty. Alex treks on, learning everything she can from her fellow researchers, while they’re still in the lull before things start picking up. While Alex is just wrapping up her Skype session with Kara, she hears frustrated muttering from the room across the hall. Lena’s room to be exact. 
“Luthor, you need help?” Alex yells. 
“Fucking shit!” Lena grumbles. “Yeah, can you come here for a sec?” Alex blows a kiss to Kara before signing out and heading over to Lena’s room. This is only the third time Alex has been in here but it’s just as clean as it was on that very first day. Lena is sitting on the ground with a mess of wires and her computer next to her. “This system is from like the 80s.”
“You’re not so smart after all,” Alex jokes as she shoos Lena aside and gets to work setting up the equipment. Lena lounges on her bed and watches Alex. 
“So, that was your sister, right?” 
“Hm?”
“That you were just talking to.” Alex glances up for a second. Usually, Lena is very casual but something about this conversation seems to be leading somewhere different. 
“Yeah. Kara.” 
“Because I wondered…” Alex’s heart starts to race. Alex can’t meet Lena’s eyes. She doesn’t want anyone wondering anything about her. She took this journey to get away from hard questions not to run right into them. “About the ring.”
“What ring?” 
“The one that’s missing from your finger.” Alex looks down at her hand and the tan line that’s sitting vacant on her ring finger. “Anyway...I’ll stop being observant if you want me to.”
“Please. It’s not something I really want to get into.” Lena respects her wishes. They continue their nightly drinking sessions which turn into rowdy card games and once - only once - Alex looks into Lena’s eyes for longer than necessary. It’s all fine. Alex calls Kara that night and she sits in her locked room, cuddling a pillow and listening to Kara talk endlessly about her day. 
“Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Alex mutters. 
“I would get on a plane and find you if you needed it.”
“You can’t. Literally, it’d be impossible.”
“Sisters do impossible things all the time.” Kara smiles. “You’re out there trying to save the world, aren’t you?” Kara’s video feed keeps freezing and it drives Alex crazy. So crazy that she kicks a hole through the screen. She didn’t know that being around this many people would feel like loneliness. The same feeling that she’d been trying to drown out for four months slowly began to creep up on her. 
All this and her stupid pride nearly get her killed the next day. As she’s laying there with her life flashing before her eyes, she considers how fitting it is that she will probably freeze to death out there. Alex is saved because she always is. The med bay is frenzied, everyone checking in on her and no one acknowledging the fact that Alex had been reckless. It takes a while for Alex to regain feeling in her body and then, suddenly, all the emotions come flooding in. Lena picks that exact moment to come into the room. “Was that a fucking cry for help or something?” Alex notices that Lena’s eyes are red like she’d been crying. 
“Fuck off-.”
“You were reckless out there. You need to do better.”
“Thanks. That’s helpful.”
“What do you want me to say?” Lena asks as she shrugs out of her jacket and practically throws it into a chair. “You know you’re brooding might be cool where you’re from but if it’s going to put you in danger like that, then you seriously need to talk to someone.”
“It was a mistake.” 
“You can’t make mistakes like that not when people care-.” Lena closes her eyes. “The polar bears need you.” Alex breaks into a fit of laughter that quickly morphs into something unexplainable. Tears. Lena holds her through it all which makes Alex feel different. 
Renewed. 
After Alex has pushed around her dinner and listened to Lena explain everything she’s read in their daily news debrief, things between them get very quiet. Alex expects a question because Lena is the kind of person who needs to know everything. Instead, Lena offers Alex a middle ground. “I’m going to ask you something now.” Lena props her head up with her elbows pressed against Alex’s hospital bed. “Are you married?”
“No.”
“Divorced?”
“No.” Lena looks confused so Alex adds, “I was though. Married, I mean.” 
“You could talk about it, you know?” Lena motions to the empty room. “It’s just us. All the secrets travel out in that ice-cold tundra and...they disappear.”
“She’d dead, Lena.” Alex sits up and wonders why it feels okay to finally talk about her. “She died four months before we started training. Which, everyone told me...screamed and yelled at me, don’t go out there, you’re just upset. ‘Just upset’”.” Alex scoffs. “If they understood the fucking insanity of life without...her.” For once, Alex isn’t coddled, she’s allowed to feel everything. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Lena is the one who lets her. “If I didn’t do this if I didn’t take this risk...I couldn’t have made it back home. Too many reminders.”
“Grief is a nuisance,” Lena remarks. “If only it was all good times on the HMS Discovery.” There’s something that signals clarity in Lena’s voice. Alex doesn’t feel talked down to but understood. It’s taken her a while to find someone who understands the impermanence of life. It makes sense if Alex takes a step back and thinks about it. Lena studies climate change. They're both constantly thinking about how the world is folding in on itself more and more every day. This idea and this moment become the cornerstone of their friendship. 
Four months and two stops into the expedition and Alex and Lena find themselves pulling an all-nighter in the lab. Alex is used to this kind of work, Lena slugs through it. “Hey, I read a conspiracy theory about you today.”
“Really? Was it good? Am I an alien yet, I’ve always wanted to be called an alien.” Alex finishes a measurement and yanks off her gloves. 
“No, actually, someone apparently thinks that you’re not even on this expedition but actually in Italy with...get this: your rugby-playing boyfriend.” Lena seems to find it significantly less funny than Alex does. 
“That’s the best they can come up with?” Lena rolls her eyes. “The idea that I’m straight is the most offensive part of that, by the way.” 
“Aren’t rugby players kinda...jocky?”
“You’re just jealous 'cause you’re a giant nerd.” Lena whacks Alex’s stomach with the back of her hand. “A nerd with abs, very dynamic.” 
Two hours later, they have their first kiss. It’s an accident. Lena’s lips brushing against Alex’s neck as they pull apart from a hug. The second kiss comes at full force. It’s Alex who initiates it and as she’s pulling Lena into her room, it’s Alex that pushes her away. “I can’t. Sorry, it’s not…” Alex covers her face with her hands. She groans and turns away. “This is wrong. It’s...it’s me, I don’t know what I’m doing.” If Lena had said something like neither do I, they might’ve continued kissing. But she doesn’t and as quickly as it began, their unfiltered romance surrounded by nature that is facing destruction head-on ends.
Lena does apologize. It comes a week later. Lena stands at Alex’s door wringing her hands. “Sorry about what happened. Kissing you. I shouldn’t have taken advantage, you’re grieving.”
“You didn’t. I kissed you,” Alex reminds her. 
Alex gets an unprompted Skype call and when she sees Kara’s name she answers immediately. Kara looks at the camera all nervous and apologetic. “Sorry,” she mutters before pushing her webcam to the side and revealing Eliza.
“Alex, finally, I haven’t talked to you in weeks. How are you doing?” It feels like an I told you so waiting to happen. Suddenly, Lena’s in the room holding a deck of cards. Eliza’s eyes soften for some reason.
“Hey, sorry, just wondering if you wanted to play?” Lena asks.
“Oh-.”
“Go on, Alex, play with your friend,” Eliza insists. “We love you, dear. Kara and I are proud.” It’s the first time that Eliza sounds like she actually accepts Alex’s choice. Alex waves goodbye to Eliza and Kara before shutting off her computer and turning to Lena. 
“Your mom’s kinda a babe,” Lena says immediately breaking the tension. 
“Please, never say anything like that ever again.”
The third time they kiss, it’s after Lena has completely destroyed Alex in UNO. Alex suspects she’d rigged the game and when she goes to ask, Lena is busy putting her hair up in a ponytail. “You look nice,” Alex says pretending it’s the first time she’s noticed but it’s not. Lena’s smile is almost mischievous.
“I know. It’s the outfit that does the trick. I just love the sound of my synthetic pants.” Lena moves her legs against each other making the wosh wosh sound they hear every day as researchers milled about the hallway. “And I’m sure the bags under my eyes just add to the allure.”
“Totally.”
“Your flirting is weak sauce, Danvers. Bring it or get to the back of the line. I’ve got rugby admirers and conspiracy theorists galore.”
“I just want to kiss you.”
“Really? For real this time?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” They kiss and soon fall into Alex’s tiny bed together. As they’re scrambling to take their clothes off, Lena pulls the blanket over their bodies. “It’s fucking freezing.” She mouths against Alex’s collar. “I guess that’s what we signed up for.” Alex isn’t certain she had a plan coming into this but being around Lena somehow gave her permission to heal. She wasn’t certain what the world would throw her way next but she had another six months on an arctic expedition to figure it out.
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73 questions tag
I was tagged by @machine-gun-casie
I’m not gonna tag anyone but feel free to do this if you want to!
On a scale of 1-10, how excited are you about life right now?
Probably like a 5, I’m excited for the future but not excited about still beign in quarantine
Describe yourself in a hashtag
#overit
If you could do a love scene with anyone, who would it be?
Henry Cavill, Taron Egerton, Richard Madden, Colson Baker, Evan Peters, the list goes on
If your life was a musical, what would the marquee say?
I’m such a bad theater kid right now cause I don’t know/can’t remember what a marquee is
What’s one thing people don’t know about you?
There’s a lot people don’t know about me on here, in real life I’m basically an open book. But if I had to choose one fun fact about myself to put on the Internet I think it’d be this: I own 137 books and I’ve read 103 of them, but the number of books I’ve read in total my whole life is at least double that because I’ve been a massive bookworm for so long
What’s your wakeup ritual?
Wake up whenever my body is done sleeping (this quarantine got me fucked up), answer any texts I received while asleep and check to see what’s going on in the world, get up and get dressed, get breakfast, brush teeth, use Lush lip scrub (my lips are shitty from lip biting as a kid and the lip scrubs help so much), go on about my day
What’s your go to bed ritual?
Put on pajamas, brush teeth and do lip scrub again, read for an hour or so or play some games on my phone, go to sleep
What’s your favorite time of day?
Noon. I don’t know why, it just is
Your go to for having a good laugh?
YouTube videos, usually Vlog Squad or Shane Dawson videos
Dream country to visit?
Somewhere in Europe honestly. I don’t really care where
What’s the biggest surprise you’ve had?
My best friend bought me Jeffree Star Cosmetics for Christmas this year and I legitametly screamed when she gave it to me
Heels or flats/sneakers?
Sneakers, my converse hightops to be specific
Vintage or new?
Vintage
Who do you want to write your obituary?
I honestly don’t know. I don’t like thinking about that stuff
Style Icon?
Don’t really have one
What are three things you can’t live without?
If we’re talking materialistic things I’d say my phone, my books, and my laptop (wanted to say a pen and notebooks for writing but that’s too so I’ll write on my laptop). If we’re not I’ll say my friends, family, and my dog
What’s one ingredient you put in everything?
I only really bake so I guess like flour? XD
What 3 people living or dead would you like to make dinner for?
Ariana Grande (cause I’m in love with her), Machine Gun Kelly (cause I’m in love with him), and Eminem (because he’s my idol, but also that would be some drama between him and MGK and I live for that shit)
What’s your biggest fear in life?
Not living my life to the fullest
Window or aisle seat?
Window
What’s your current TV obsession?
Peaky Blinders and American Horror Story
Favourite app?
Tumblr, but tiktok is a close second
Secret talent?
I don’t think I have a secret one. I’m very open with the talents I have XD
Most adventurous thing you’ve done in your life?
Probably ziplining
How would you definite yourself in three words?
Creative, caring, nerd
Favourite piece of clothing you own?
I have these baggy pair of “mom jeans” and I’m so in love with them
Must have clothing item that everyone should have?
Something baggy. Baggy clothes are just so comfy I can’t even explain it
Superpower you would want?
Speed so I could go places and do things faster
What’s inspiring you in life right now?
Honestly everything inspires me. Like one minute I could be watching TV or talking to friends or something and next minute I have inspiration to write something
Best piece of advice you’ve received?
Don’t let people get away with treating you like dirt. It doesn’t matter if their friends, family, your significant other, whatever. You do not deserve someone who isn’t going to treat you right
Best advide you’d give your teenage self?
Honestly the same advice as above and I’d add: Don’t be afraid to leave your toxic friendships. You’ll find better people, but you have to leave the toxic ones first
A book that everyone should read?
Room, my favourite book of all time
What would you like to be remembered for?
For being a nice person
How do you define beauty?
Happiness is beauty. When you’re happy, like genuinely happy, you just light up and people can tell that you’re happy and I don’t know it’s just beautiful to me
What do you love most about your body?
My eyes and my lips. I think they’re my best features
Best way to take a rest/decompress?
Watch some funny videos or a funny show and lie back and just relax. Alternatively, if you’re in a relationship, I find cuddling or even just being in the presence of that person decompresses me
Favorite place to view art?
The local museum where I live. Within the past year or so they’ve expanded their art gallery section and it goes up two floors, it’s so beautiful
If your life were a song, what would the title be?
Stressed Out (by twenty one pilots)
If you could master one instrument, what would it be?
Guitar. I’ve always wanted to play. I was in lessons but for some reason I didn’t play as often when I stopped going and eventually just wasn’t good at all anymore
If you had a tattoo, where would it be?
I already have one on my forearm, but the next one I want to get is going on my back up around my shoulder (it’s gonna be a family tattoo)
Dolphins or koalas?
Dolphins
What’s your spirit animal?
For some reason the first answer that popped in my head was a butterfly so we’ll go with that
Best gift you’ve ever received?
The Jeffree Star Cosmetics makeup is up there but Christmas past my boyfriend got me a promise ring and it’s honestly the best thing I’ve ever gotten in my life
Best gift you’ve ever given?
When my boyfriend first started dating I promposed through a Christmas gift and it’s still my favourite gift that I’ve ever given him
What’s your favorite board game?
The Game of Life
What’s your favorite color?
Purple
Lease favorite color?
Green
Diamonds or pearls?
Diamonds
Drugstore makeup or designer?
Both
Blow-dry or air-dry?
Blow dry when I’m in a hurry but air dry when I have time
Pilates or yoga?
Yoga
Coffee or tea?
Neither, I’m a hot chocolate person
What’s the weirdest word in the English language?
I don’t have an answer for this one...hmmm...
Dark chocolate or milk chocolate?
Dark
Stairs or elevator?
Depends on how many stairs
Summer or winter?
Summer
You are stuck on an island, you can pick one food to eat forever without getting tired of it, what would you eat?
Chicken nuggets. I’ve basically lived off of them since I was a child
A dessert you don’t like?
Cheesecake
A skill you’re working on mastering?
None as of right now really
Best thing to happen to you today?
I might have an apartment (fingers crossed)
Best compliment you’ve ever received?
“I thought you were the cutest even after knowing you for seconds”
Favorite smell?
Vanilla
Hugs or kisses?
Kisses
If you made a documentary, what would it be about?
A conspiracy theory documentary
Last piece of content you consumed that made you cry?
I re-watched David Dobrik’s vlog where he gave his friend Heath his dream car and Heath’s reaction makes me cry every time
Lipstick or lip gloss?
Lipstick
Sweet or savoury?
Sweet
Girl crush?
Ariana Grande, Ruby Rose, Karen Gillan, Cara Delevingne
How you know you’re in love?
I can’t explain it. I just know that I am
Song you can listen to on repeat?
Candy by MGK
If you could switch lives with someone for a day who would it be?
My dog so I could sleep all the time and wake up only to eat and go outdoors
What are you most excited about at this time in your life?
To get out of quarantine
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connan-l · 5 years
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Ciconia Phase 1 Ramblings
Well, it sure was a wild ride, but I enjoyed it quite a bit!
The whole thing was very Heavy and Intense and Long and a lot of stuff happened. I’m not sure I really digested everything yet, but I have Thoughts.
GOD I spent so much time writing all of this... At first I just wanted to make a short Twitter thread about it, but it ended up a lot longer than initially... 😔
Those are just some messy ramblings and I don't think I said any more new or interesting stuff than what other people have already said, but I still felt the need to write it down, so...
Ciconia spoilers for Phase 1 and the tips:
So I thought overall it was pretty good and interesting! As someone who didn’t play the demos, I went in completely blind, and it was a nice read. (As such the flood of Okonogi memes some time ago were kinda confusing to me at first lol.)
It was radically different from Higurashi and Umineko, but that was something I expected (Umineko was radically different from Higurashi, after all.)
I’m not sure if it’s going to hit me as personally as Higurashi and Umineko did yet, or even if I’m going to like it as much — I enjoyed Phase 1, and the story is really intriguing, but it’s not quite on the level of its predecessors for now. Then again, it is only the first part of the story so it’s a bit unfair to compare them now, and I remember I was far from being into Higu and Umi by just their first installments too. So I guess I’ll just have to wait for the other phases and see!
On a technical level, this is definitely ones of Ryukishi’s most sophisticated visual novels — with the big animations and sound effects during the battle scenes, of course, but also with the numbers of different backgrounds and the visuals for the Kizuna thing. The sprites are also my favorites from all of Ryu’s games, they have the uniqueness of his artstyle all while being more polished and with really pretty coloring. And the character designs are SUPER GOOD — the best of 07th Expansion works to me (well, I was still a bit disappointed in Vier’s design, though. I mean. She’s just Takano with a lab coat. You could’ve at least changed her clothes or something, Ryu.) The music was the only thing that was... pretty average. It wasn’t bad, there was a lot of neat OST in it... but there wasn’t really anything memorable either (Alright, except for Apocalypsis Ciconia II. This one was dope as hell and it gave me chills.)
I was pleasantly surprised by how good and compelling the worldbuilding was too, as personally I find this peculiar part of Ryukishi’s writing has always been one of his weakest points. I don’t know much about sci-fi stuff admittedly, so I’m not sure how that would be perceived by fans of the genre, but Ciconia’s world is still quite fascinating — the different factions, the technology and selcom stuff, the way childbirth is managed or the history of World War III, all of that was good. Although to be honest, some stuff felt kinda contrived too (like, sure, let’s say the entire history of WWIII is entirely erased, like that we don’t have to deal with the political issues of our current real world lmao), and I don’t know all of the histories of the countries mentioned, so I can’t really tell if some things were insensitive (for example, how Africa was “unified” by a single king felt a bit off to me, but, er... I don’t know...)
The more absurd elements like the conspiracy theories, the chivalric orders or the freaking ILLUMINATI KINGS were pretty hilarious, honestly. I’m... not sure what to make of them. Obviously none of Ryu’s stories were ever going to be realistic (and well, the entire premise of Ciconia is about children soldiers who have the strength of an entire army in one gauntlet, which is ridiculous enough), but knowing him I wonder how much of this is going to be played straight and how much of this is meta stuff. Especially with all the religious/spiritual references (the blue bodies of Evil Miyao and of the gauntlet girls alluding to the Hindu god Shiva, Seshat being a Egyptian goddess, etc.)
I have more mixed feelings about the plot, and especially the pacing. Most of it was okay, but some scenes were really dragging and redundant. Which, isn’t really something new with Ryukishi’s writing, but here especially with the political stuff and the long blocks of exposition it was... kinda boring and hard to focus on it, and after a while it even felt quite egregious. Some of those parts weren’t needed, or at least didn’t need to be that long. Especially given that after the first hours, there were not a lot of more peaceful moments that would give the player time to breath. 
Which is another one of my complaints: a lot of intense things happened, but the narrative rarely give you the time to actually digest those things, especially in the second part of the story. It often pretty much felt like “X event happen > Discussion of X event between the characters > Y event happen > Discussion of Y event between the characters,” and this without any breaks (with the exception of some exposition here and there in between, of course). The events, discussions and characters were interesting enough to more or less keep my attention, but it still felt like too much at times. Part of this may be volunteer, as it put a stressful and opressive feeling on the reader (God, the clock and quotes between each chapters stressed me out a lot lol), and after a while I really felt like I was kinda suffocating with all of this like the characters — but even so I think it would’ve been better to give us some pauses here and there. Which is something we could have had with, say, the tips. I thought it was a shame all of the sixteen tips could only be read once the main story was over, because the narrative could have really benefited from having them fit into the plot or in-between chapters, like in Higurashi.
Also, I know Ciconia wasn’t exactly marketed as an horror story unlike the other WTCs, but hoo boy, I think some of the sequences in it are honestly among the most gory and disturbing things Ryukishi wrote? I haven’t read Iwaihime or TRianThology, so I can’t really say for sure, but damn, those human factories really are big nightmare fuels...
Now, I think the most tricky parts and the ones who are gonna get the most criticisms are, likely, the whole political and military stuff. Ciconia is probably Ryukishi’s most political and provocative work so far, maybe on par with Rose Guns Days — not to say Higurashi and Umineko are not political, they definitely are, but here it truly is in-your-face. Which is not a bad thing, per se, but... let’s say it all depends on how Ryukishi handle and criticize all those stuff down the line in the other installments, when so far it’s been... meh?
Like, the whole military stuff, specifically, was... shaky, at best. The thing with fiction that portray militaries with soldiers as their main characters is that they walk a thin line between just portraying this thing and actively glamorizing it. The narrative was definitely critical of some of it (lol the whole massacre at the end was very obviously there for a reason), and I appreciate Ryukishi often makes a point in his stories to frame a problem with different persepectives... but the whole “healthy military balance” and “Walls of Peace” thing was still iffy, and I’m... unsure about how much of it is going to be criticized within the narrative in the end. Now, again, it is just the beginning of the story, and Ryukishi has always been good at presenting a thing at the start for later on tearing it down to pieces, so... I don’t know.
It’s way too early to decide what kind of themes and messages Ciconia is going to have, so here too I guess we’ll have to wait and see, but I’m just a bit wary given some things that were in RGD were... definitely questionable. Now I actually think Ciconia got to a better start than RGD, but... well. I’m also not really someone who know much about these stuff, so I’m not the best placed to talk about it, but it’s definitely something worth to be under scrutiny.
On the more positive side, there were times where some things felt really, really real, as well as pretty in tone with some of today’s social issues. Like all those news about the terrible things going on in the world and that a war can happen anytime, the military propaganda to recruit young people who “want to fly” in the army but who just end up killing each other, or the feeling that these kids have about how in the end they’re just powerless pawns  who can’t do anything used by selfish old men... I saw someone said Ciconia was basically Fuck Boomers: The Game, and... yeah. Yeah, that’s basicaly it lmao. All of the adults being assholes is not new in WTC or even in Ryukishi’s works in general, but here it was definitely a big theme. God even the whole thing at the end about how the planet is dying and that everyone knows it but people just don’t care about it... lmao, if that wasn’t directly referring what we’re living right now with climate change, I don’t know what is.
I just really loved too the way the game was sort of sold as this “cool sci-fi battle royal,” but in the actual story all of those kids are desperately trying to not kill each other, until the very end where everything just goes to hell.
I said it before, but there really was a huge feeling of suffocating and being powerless the more and more you reach towards the end, and the way everything culminated in this huge massacre truly sent shivers in my back. I know at some points I could really feel for the kids who were like “Well, fuck it, let’s just let all those awful people kill each other and the world get destroyed.” The final scene with the Christmas party was really powerful and also so uncomfortable to read, it was really well done.
Otherwise, if there was one work I wasn’t expecting to scream “LGBT+ rights,” it was Ciconia, but here we are I guess lmao. Honestly, that entire conversation was super neat, not just in a “Oh it’s great they acknowledge gay and trans people exist in a positive way,” but also because it really adds a lot to the worldbuilding. I remember some people talking about it when a similar thing happened in the comics of The Legend of Korra, and honestly more stories should do that, not just in term of representation but because, well, it’s just good writing to put this much thought in your fictional world. The conversation in itself was a bit clumsy (GAYS DON’T FUCK), but it also felt very sincere and a pretty believable discussion a bunch of teenagers with very different backgrounds could have on the subject (and I really loved the narrative acknowledge how different cultures and religions feel about those topics, without it being judgemental.) I’m also thankful it was here at all because of the, uh, gay jokes made about Miyao and Jayden early on that were a bit tasteless to me.
(Now it would be even more great if we could have actual canon gay and trans characters too. Ryukishi... please...... I beg you........)
And of course, the characters were also really good! 
It was so nice to have such a big diverse cast all constituted of likeable characters, and I was honestly impressed Ryukishi managed to handle it. That was something I was wary of when the game was first released, but in the end I think he did a good job so far. Of course, that’s only from my point of view, so I can’t say if other people found there were some things he did badly or that was offensive...
But personally, I honestly love all of the Gauntlets kids so much. They’re all so good and charming! And I kinda want to adopt them all lol.
I think my favorites for now are Miyao, Gunhild, Naima, Rethabile, Chloe, Koshka, Rukhshana, and Lingji... But like I said, they are all really good it’s hard to choose!
However... when it comes to their writing I felt Ciconia went in the continuity of Rose Guns Days and concentrated more on the plot than the characters, and that’s something that... honestly bother me a bit. I liked RGD, but Ryukishi’s writing is still at its strongest when it comes to very human, character-driven narratives, like Umineko and Higurashi. Like I said, I love all of these kids a lot, and some of them have pretty solid characterization and screentime... but in the end a part of me still feel like we didn’t really... get to know them much, if that makes sense? Even with the main ones, like Miyao, Jayden or Gunhild — most of their scenes were principally focused on the Plot Stuff, and not much about them as people.
I know there are a lot of folks who criticize the slice-of-life parts of Higurashi and Umineko, where there are lots of scenes of just the characters spending time with each other or goofing around and that don’t do much to advance the plot — and in a way I understand that, because yeah, some of these scenes can be pretty long to get through and drag the pacing. But personally, I always thought those sequences are very important. Even if some of them are admittedly unnecessary or are a bit too long, they’re really needed to humanize the characters and make you invest in them  — which was something that was a bit lacking in Ciconia. Basically I guess I’m saying the VN needed more slice-of-life stuff, and that rejoin with what I said earlier — that including some of the tips in the plot here and there instead of putting all of them at the end would have really helped with that.
Now, that said, again I’m aware this is just the first part of the story. I understand Ryukishi needed to have all of those exposition blocks and truly pose the basics of his story first and foremost. So I’m really hoping that after that he’ll be able to focus more on its characters  — especially on those who got almost no screentime, like the Yeladot Shavit and Cairo Squad girls. Having characters and human grounded moments is especially important in a story where war is a big focus like Ciconia.
Now, on the characters themselves... 
Miyao was a really charming protagonist, and I love him a lot! He was so endearing to me during the whole story. He was instantly more likeable as a male protagonist than Keiichi and Battler, where it took me some time for them to grow on me — principally because, well, Miyao don’t have the shtick of sexually harrassing the female characters around him, which was profoundly annoying in the other WTCs. I loved his serious but caring and friendly personality, his friendship with Jayden and Gunhild and with all the other kids, and his anger against the adults trying to use him and the others. His relationship with his father too was interesting. His interactions with Evil Miyao were also pretty intriguing, even if I’m not sure yet what to think of him being a “murder program” or about what even is Evil Miyao. 
Now, the only thing I am on the fence about him is... his whole DID thing and Meow. Like, on one hand, I think it is neat to have a likeable protagonist with a named mental illness, and the narrative felt sincere on not wanting to present this as a bad thing and just a part of who Miyao is... but on the other hand, there were all the jokes made as a result of this, which made the whole thing pretty awkward to me. Furthermore, there’s the problem that this “CPP” thing is not really DID, as if I recall it doesn’t actually seem to come from any trauma-related reason, and is almost a made-up condition? It kinda gave me Kara no Kyoukai flashbacks, in which Shiki, the protagonist, also has an alter, but it is not as a result of trauma or anything — it has a fantasy explanation. And, I mean... An author taking an actual, real condition that a lot of people have to bend it at their will to fit a story isn’t super cool, especially if you’re going to make some jokes at its expense... The other kids calling out Jayden on how he didn’t act properly with Miyao about this was nice though. (Also, now that I think about it, did Miyao just... randomly told all of the other gauntlet knights about it? Wasn’t it said that “CPPs” were something most people didn’t like to talk about? It’s a bit odd.) Plus there’s also the fact Miyao is possibly a “program” and it adds another layer of not-so-great stuff... So I’m just really wary of how Ryukishi is gonna handle this going forward...
Those problems aside, Meow herself was... fine. She’s cute, but she doesn’t really have much going on for her. She and Jayden are dorks together and their scenes definitely made me smile, but their relationship still felt kinda shallow so I don’t have much feelings about them as a couple (like, it’s just that to me Miyao and Jayden have a lot more chemistry and have been friends for quite some time, so it’s just odd that he instantly decides to date Miyao’s sister whom he just met. And, also, he was definitely flirting with Miyao before meeting Meow, too.). It was also pretty jarring the way she just... almost disappears once the war stuff began, so in the end I had this disagreeable impression that she really was just here to be Jayden’s girlfriend, and not as a character on her own or to develop Miyao more...
Jayden was pretty neat too! He’s a character that could be “yikes” pretty easily, but in the end he really did come across as a awkward but kind teenage boy who may be clumsy at times but is still trying his best. In fact, I really wish Ryukishi had wrote Keiichi and Battler more like Jayden. It was nice in general that none of the guys in Ciconia acted inappropriately towards the girls (with the exception of Toujirou, I guess. The way he acted towards Valentina especially made me go “ehh dude please no.” Like I know the LATO girls are said to be older than the other kids so they’re probably 18 or something, but still, it was a bit ugh... But even then it wasn’t something that was too overt, so it didn’t bother me too much), because some of Keiichi and Battler’s antics towards the female characters was something that annoyed me greatly. Don’t get me wrong, I did end up liking Keiichi and Battler despite this, they’re both good kids at heart — but it’s possible to write horny teenage boys without them ~comically~ sexually harassing the girls around them, if you feel me? Aside from that, I like that the story made a point to show that Jayden is actually a pretty lonely and kinda socially awkward kid just like Miyao, and that’s why their friendship work so well. On the other hand, though, his character mostly only turned around Miyao and Meow, and so we didn’t get much of him as a person? Which is a bit disappointing as he is meant to be one of the main kids, so I’ll hope he’ll get more interesting later on.
I ABSOLUTELY LOVE GUNHILD, she really intrigue me! I wasn’t expecting to love her so much — for the most part I thought she was okay but nothing more... though now that I finished the story, she’s probably my favorite character for now? Her scene in the restaurant with her sibling, and especially the tips focused on her, really got to me. I loved her cool personality and her backstory was really interesting, as well as her relationship with Miyao and Jayden. She seems to honestly like and care for both of them, but at the same time resent them, and the way she obviously have a lot of pent-up anger towards the world and some self-hatred make her a truly compelling character. I’m pretty intrigued by Maya and her relationship with her too. She’s honestly one of the characters towards who I look forward the most, and I really hope Ryukishi will deliver on her. 
Chloe has definitely a lot of Rena Vibes, so of course I was going to love her lol. Although honestly for now I find her mostly... confusing. She’s obviously really fucked up (CHLOEVIL), and she made me pretty nervous during the entire story because there was this “Okay so when is she going to snap?” kind of tension with her. And her last scene with Lilja gave me chills... At the same time, her kindness and caring nature as well as her friendship with Koshka, Lilja and the  others felt genuine, so it was an interesting contrast. Other than that I wasn’t a fan of the running gag of Okonogi hitting her whenever she mess up (or do not mess up, for that matter)... Like obviously Okonogi is meant to be a Bastard, but the thing being presented as comical made me go :/ I really wish it’s going to stop.
Koshka was cute and also Extremely Relatable in a lot of ways (I, too, would rather spend my time playing silly games on my phone rather than socialize lmao). I love her a lot, and like Gunhild she really fascinate me. I like the fact that she’s meant to be an asocial, cold person but that at the same time it’s pretty easy to see glimpses of the affection she has for Lilja, Chloe or Miyao, and how she’s actually a deeply traumatized and angry teen. I’m pretty intrigued by what kind of “crime” she must have committed and how she ended up being an “equipment”... Not sure what to think about her super brain or the thing about her being some sort of “chosen one” lol. It sounds really shady.
For Lilja, I have to say I wasn’t exactly fond of her at first, but then the small moments we got with her where she obviously care a lot about Koshka and Chloe still got to me. That scene in the tips where she fiercely defends Chloe made me go “awww.” She really give me the impression of being the sort of person to hide her vulnerability behind a tough façade and her odd tics, and in that way she’s pretty similar to Koshka, which is how their friendship feel really special. The revealation at the end that she’s probably faking a lot of her personality and of her friendship with Koshka because it’s an assigment made her and her relationship with Koshka a lot more interesting to me, and I hope it’s going to result in a lot of compelling character stuffs.
Lingji was great! She’s pretty cool. I liked her optimism  and her will to do the right thing, and how that actually cover the fact she’s a pretty fragile and sheltered person. Her scene where she break down after her grandfather’s death is really illustrative of this especially, and where I really felt for her too. I think she’s the most interesting character in term of possible development. I quite enjoyed her friendship with Miyao too, but here again I wish these two had gotten more moments together. Like, how much more impactful the scene where Miyao kill her would have been if we had actually seen these two have some intimate moments before? But, oh well...
Aysha was really cool too, and I especially loved the way her sharp and down-to-earth personality contrast to Lingji’s idealism. The moment where she calls out both of her teammates was super good. Momotake was okay, and I love his intense admiration for Lingji (I’m a sucker for male characters really looking up to cool female characters lol)... but otherwise I felt he was honestly the most stereotypical character of the bunch — especially compared to Lingji and Aysha.
NAIMA IS THE BEST, SHE’S MY BABY I LOVE HER SO MUCH. She was my favorite before I even start the game because of her design alone (SHE’S THE CUTEST CHARACTER RYU EVER DESIGNED OKAY), and I wasn’t disappointed from seeing her actual personality. She’s not especially complex or anything for now, but she has a lot of potential. I loved her relationship with Naomi and Stan too — it kinda felt like two older siblings looking after their annoying youngest one reluctantly, but who still have a lot of affection for them. Also she’s such a little badass, I literally cheered out loud during that rescue scene or during the last battle scene where she screams she wants to protect all of her people. I want more of her in Phase 2 pleaaaase!
Naomi was really overshadowed by Naima and Stan, so as a result I don’t have much to say about her. I think she’s cool, and her backstory about how she apparently lost a lot of her memories and emotions is interesting, but again I can’t say much given we barely see her at all. Stanisław was a good boy, but despite the fact we see him a lot during the story, I... don’t really have a lot of thoughts on him? I liked his implied friendship with Gunhild as them being death metal buddies, but we didn’t actually saw them interacting at all, which was a shame.
Rethabile was the coolest character of the cast, I love her dearly! I like how she can be so adorable and such a dork but at the same time she’s probably the one who has her shit together the most out of all the kids. I feel she really has a good grip on politics and how the adults just want to use them compared to the others — which, well, isn’t all that surprising given she’s literally a princess. The scene with her brother’s death was pretty harsh, and I’m sad they didn’t really... put much attention to her reaction to such a traumatic event. I know the plot hadn’t time for that, really, but I feel even Lingji got more focus when her grandfather died, so I wish we had more of that with Rethabile too.
Ishak and Abdou... well, they didn’t really get much time for them either. They seem like nice dudes, and I really love their relationship with Rethabile, how they tease her quite a bit but there’s still obviously a lot of complicity and respect among them. So I hope we’ll get to know them more, especially on an individual level — as for now they were only present as a duo.
The LATO girls were... interesting too. I especially love Valentina, because she really give me Bad Bitch vibes and I love bitchy female characters lol. It’s pretty clear she has some Secrets and I’m really curious about her goals. As for Maricarmen, I thought she was mostly going to be comic relief like the Yeladot Shavit, but towards the end she actually showed some interesting depth so she did grew on me quite a bit.
And then there was just the teams no-screentime lol. Alright, I guess Suparṇa did get some time, and Rukhi is ones of my faves, but they still were really sidelined. I liked Sujatha, she’s such an uptight idiot, and her scene towards the end where she says she was aware that Miyao’s plan was doomed but still played along for Lingji made me kinda emotional. Rukhshana is the cutest and the greatest — I really liked her personality, how she can be extremely shy but then also completely goof around when she actually trust the people around her. And that moment at the end where she just say to her superiors to fuck off was glorious and one of my favorite scenes. Her relationship with Sujatha and Andry is adorable too. Andry himself was also... not present at all, but I really love the small glimpses of him we have seen, he’s pretty cool. I like how he sincerely seems to care a lot about his teammates despite his aloof character (him protecting Rukhi when their superiors try to hit her at the end was sweet.)
Still, Suparṇa wasn’t sidelined as much as Yeladot Shavit and Cairo Squad, though. I mean, I do like those girls — I adore Gannet because she’s cute as hell, Noor seems cool and Mariana intrigue me, but I can’t actually say much about them. Leah, Fatma and Stephania were also mostly comic relief except for one or two scenes towards the end. So I really hope Phase 2 will remedy to this, ‘cause I want more of these six, definitely!
I’m not sure I have a lot of thoughts about the adults characters quite yet — GERMAN TAKANO cracked me up, but she’s just as great as her Higurashi counterpart for now, and I always trust Ryukishi to write good Terrible Women. Especially Terrible Mothers, which is one of my personal weaknesses. Though I guess it’s not actually been confirmed she’s Miyao’s mom? It’s heavily implied, but we all know Ryukishi love to troll his audience so I wouldn’t put it past him that it is in fact just a red herring, but well, we’ll see I guess. 
Toujirou is obviously a bastard, but he’s an interesting one, and I have no fucking idea what is going on in his head. Like it’s interesting that on the one hand he seems to genuinely care about his son, but on the other hand he has no problem manipulating and screwing him over (and the implication of Miyao being maybe just a program is... ooof.) Okonogi was... a bit less worse than in the other WTCs, I guess? He obviously care about the kids in his own way, and him defending them at the end was nice... but I still can’t really feel anything but contempt towards him. He’s still a pretty bad instructor, and like I say, I’m really not a big fan of the way he treats Chloe at all, even if it’s meant to be “comical.”
The Three Kings mostly made me laugh to be honest, and they’re more plot devices than actual characters for now so I really don’t care about them (a part of me even wonder if they “exist” at all, because, you know, meta stuff). I absolutely LOVED Jestress on the other hand! I have no idea what’s the deal with her, whether she’s Lambda or whatever, but she’s really intriguing and her design is top notch and I want more of her. Seshat was so fucking cool and I don’t have much thoughts about her yet other than I wanna marry her.
And that’s pretty much it!
I’m not really good at predictions or at throwing theories around (sorry, Ryukishi), so I’m not sure what to expect for the rest of the story. I guess my only thoughts are that the moles are probably Gunhild and/or Chloe, but then they seem like obvious candidates, so I don’t know. I kinda suspect Valentina too, because, er, I do not trust her at all and she just have that traitor vibe. 
I really hope too that we’ll have time loops here again instead of a linear story because... well... I don’t wanna these kids to die okay... I also know that Ryukishi said Ciconia is only going to have four parts, and that’d make sense given how long Phase 1 was... but a part of me still kinda hope we’ll have a bit more... I guess it’s just that only four phases seems really little compared to the density of the story, and I’m really hoping he’ll have the time to develop well all of his narrative points and characters...
In any case, I think my thoughts on Ciconia for now pretty much get down to: it’s interesting and it has the potential to be a really great story, even if it’s far from being flawless and that I’m still very wary about how Ryukishi is going to handle some elements in the future.
But I’d definitely recommand it to people who love 07th Expansion stuff and sci-fi stories, and am very much looking forward to Phase 2!
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lilacmoon83 · 4 years
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Finding You Always
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Chapter 206: The Brightest Star in the Sky
The young man sighed, as he trekked after his determined cousin. They were about the same age, but decidedly had very different interests. As always though, he tagged along to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble at these conventions.
His cousin Nora loved anything considered weird, paranormal, or of a conspiracy nature. So seven years ago, when that crazy storm had happened in Seattle, his cousin had been enthralled from that moment and ever since she had been exploring every single aspect of that day.
She did have a point. Even he, like most, suspected that the official story the Feds fed the public about that day was garbage. But he, like most, didn't really know what to do about it so they moved on with their lives. But not Nora and she had gotten into some trouble early on in her days of spelunking in the woods of Maine and into fights at the conventions. So here he was again, tagging along to another conspiracy convention in Misty Falls, Maine and bored out of his mind.
"If you don't want to be here, JJ...then you can leave. I'll be fine," Nora told him. He rolled his eyes.
"It's just...some of these guys are in this for the cash grab now. I mean...what new or real information have they come up with in the last seven years?" JJ questioned. She sighed.
"You don't get it...there are no definitive answers, because the government is hiding the whole thing. But you've heard the stories. Weird things happen in these woods," Nora said.
"Maybe that's because this convention brings the weirdos out of the woodwork," he quipped.
"So...are you still on the fairy tale kick or do you think it's aliens?" he asked.
"If you're going to make fun of me, you can take a hike," she answered. He sighed.
"I'm sorry...but you have to admit, most of the theories are pretty insane," he mentioned.
"You saw the videos...how do you explain all that?" she asked.
"I don't know...but fairy tales? Really?" he questioned.
"Whatever...you just wait until I prove you wrong," she insisted, as they arrived at the convention tables, where they were conducting a live podcast.
"And if you're just joining us, I have made contact with a source that has a possible lead on the man known as David Nolan. Now, if you remember, David Nolan is the detective from Seattle that curiously had his wife and son stolen from him by a man, who was known on the dark web as the Collector. His wife had amnesia and was diagnosed by a shady doctor with dissociative identity disorder. The woman had an alter and yes, you're remembering correctly. Her alter was none other than Snow White," the podcaster said.
"This couple was splashed all over the tabloids for weeks and their romance became an obsession; an obsession that the Internet still hasn't let go of. Especially when this same couple showed up on that fateful day in Seattle and things happened around them that can only be described as magic, no matter what the official government story tries to tell us," he continued.
"But then they disappeared, without a trace, like they never existed. But if the rumors on the dark web are anything to go by...then they are somewhere hidden in these very back woods of Maine, possibly in a hidden realm or maybe even beneath the surface of the earth if you believe the hallow earth theorists," he added.
"But no matter how much they try to dissuade us from seeking the truth, we will not stop until we expose what really happened that day and just who these mysterious people really are. Join us again tomorrow, as we make our annual hike into the woods of Maine in search for answers," he said, concluding his podcast. JJ rolled his eyes, as Nora got in line to get an autograph from the man who had made a living with podcasts and books on this subject.
"I'm gonna go check us in at the Inn and if it's booked again like last year, we're leaving, cause I'm not sleeping in a tent again," he complained, as he started off that way when screams from the diner nearby attracted all the attention. And if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he would have never believed it.
The diner exploded in flames, with any of the poor people inside, obviously perishing instantly. He stood, fear stricken, as two flaming figures strode toward them.
"You…" one said, as the flames faded mostly.
"You will drive us to a place called Boston," Arthur demanded.
"Uh...here, take the car," JJ said, but Gawain growled and grabbed Nora by the arm.
"The King has requested that you drive us and you will do so unless you'd like me to melt the skin off her body," Gawain threatened. JJ nodded, as he led them back to his car. Suddenly, all the conspiracy had just gotten very real…
~*~
David stood behind his boss with a few other agents, as she made a statement to the press and delivered the profile, stating that they believed their perpetrator to be a highly educated professor with access to multiple Universities campuses.
"Major Donovan...are you really accusing someone in the educational community of perpetuating these crimes?" one reporter questioned.
"As uncomfortable as it is...I'm afraid so. The chemical compound alone suggests that this person is at least a scientist and someone highly intelligent. But the location of the crimes is very suspicious as well. Only an educator would have the kind of access that to the multiple institutions that these crimes occurred," Patricia answered.
"They're cannot be that many that fit your profile. Does that mean you've narrowed the suspect pool?" another asked.
"Yes...we are getting close and we are doing everything in our power to make sure the last victim is this person's final victim," the Major answered, as she stepped away, effectively ending the impromptu press conference. But one person, without a press pass, slipped through and ran up behind them.
"Agent Nolan is it?" he asked. David sighed and turned to him. He hated reporters.
"Make it quick...I really do want to catch this guy," he said impatiently.
"No one else has seemed to put it together, but rumors in the alternative community have suggested that you are the same person as the Detective Nolan from strange events that occurred seven years ago in Seattle," the man interjected.
"I'm sorry...what media outlet are you with?" Patricia asked.
"I'm an independent researcher for the people, Major," he answered.
"Ah...so one of those nuts on the Internet. Got it...if you'll excuse us, we have work to do," she said, dismissing him.
"I've done some digging. Your wife, Margaret Nolan, she's a teacher, right?" he called and David stopped in his tracks.
"Look...I don't know who you are, but I've never lived in Seattle and I'll let you go right now if you go without another word. But you mention my wife again or even think about going near her...then we'll arrest you for harassment," David warned. The man smirked.
"Fine...but pictures don't lie, detective. Oh, I'm sorry...it's agent now," he said, as he tossed the newspaper to him and walked away. David sighed and followed his boss back into their workplace. He was about to look at the paper out of curiosity, but tossed it on his desk when Agent Harding called them into the conference room.
"Hey...I think I might have narrowed it down now," she said, as they both went into the conference room.
"Really?" David asked.
"Well...we caught a break. Our perp has been careful up until now, but after the last student death at Boston University, they put even more cameras," Danielle replied.
"Wait...are you saying you got something on camera?" David asked.
"Well, nothing incriminating, but I went through and cross referenced everyone that was signed into the lab at Boston University on both nights of each murder that occurred there," she replied.
"Nice work...how many are we down to?" Patricia asked.
"Eight...so still not great, but way better than the thirty-two suspects we had it down to this morning," she replied.
"Okay...well eight is workable. Let's see them one by one," Patricia said, as she nodded to Trevor and he put the slide show up on the screen. And David's heart nearly stopped, as he recognized the photo of the sixth man on the screen. As the slide flipped to the seventh one, he called out.
"Hold it...go back!" he said, as he stared a the image of Dr. Ian Jenkins.
"David? Do you know him?" Patricia asked, as his mind was racing a mile a minute and he remembered what, at the time, had been a fairly innocuous conversation with his wife.
~*~
They had taken the kids out for pizza after the game so Bobby could eat with his teammates. They were so glad he finally seemed to be fitting in. Middle school had been an awkward time for him and he had always said he felt different than other kids and had trouble relating to them, but he was never really sure why. Snow and David were fond of telling him that it was because he was special, but they weren't sure that helped much. At his age, being special was definitely not easy. It wasn't easy to be normal at his age, so being extraordinary or special came with its own struggles. But his teammates really seemed to take to him. They both just hoped there was more to it than the fact that Bobby was winning games for them.
After pizza, they had stopped for ice cream and she was currently sharing a pint with her husband on the couch. In his lap no less, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for them.
"You're a little quiet...lost in the chocolate goodness?" he teased, as she looked him.
"No...it's kind of silly I think," she replied.
"Your feelings are never silly to me," he reminded, as she put her spoon in the ice cream and set it aside on the table.
"Well...my new boss, Dr. Jenkins...he's nice and all and I kind of feel bad for him. He's socially awkward...but I kind of got a weird vibe from him today," she said.
"Did he come onto you?" he asked.
"No...why would you think that?" she asked. He rolled his eyes.
"Because you're beautiful and I saw the way he was looking at you. I may have acted like I was absorbed in the game, but trust me, I always notice everything when it comes to you, especially when other men look at you," he replied. She caressed his face.
"You're the only man I want," she reminded him.
"I know...that's why I don't gouge their eyes out when I see one looking at you. That's serious self control...you should be proud," he joked, as she nudged him playfully.
"But seriously...was he making you uncomfortable?" he asked.
"No...not really. He just was weirdly insistent that I should enroll in his night classes and get my doctorate," she replied.
"Do you want to get your doctorate?" he asked.
"No...I'm happy where I am. Besides, spending my evenings away from you and the kids would only make me miserable," she replied.
"Then he should accept that and if he gets out of hand, I want you to let me know right away," he stressed. She shrugged.
"I don't think it's like that. I think he's just lonely and is trying to be a friend," she said.
"Maybe...but remember, I'm a cop. I see this kind of thing go bad way too often and it scares the hell out of me that you could be on the receiving end of someone that doesn't like to hear the word no," he lamented. But she stroked his face.
"I'll be fine. Like I said, he's just awkward and hasn't crossed any lines. I'll be friendly, but keep a professional distance," she promised, as she kissed him.
"Good...because I don't think I have to tell you what it would do to me if something happened to you," he said, as she caressed his face again.
"I know...it's the same for me when it comes to you. I love you," she said.
"I love you too," he replied, as their lips met again.
~*~
"David?" Patricia questioned, as she noticed his fear stricken face.
"I know him…" he uttered.
"How?" Danielle asked.
"He works at the same school Margaret and Bobby are at. He's the head of the science department," David answered, as Trevor pulled up his information.
"Dr. Ian Jenkins, five PHD's and moved to the United States from Great Britain a few years ago," Danielle said, as dread knotted in David's stomach and he ran out of the room and to the stairwell.
"Pull up everything you can get on him, from his time here and his home country. I have a feeling this is our guy," she said, as she followed him.
~*~
Mount Olympus practically shook apart to rubble, as Seth unleashed his rage at what was going on in the United Realms at the moment. There was a heavy ice storm plaguing several Kingdoms and a lightning storm over Storybrooke. If that wasn't enough, there were also several cyclones raging in the waterways, creating violent hurricane-like winds. He had told Mephisto not to bother returning unless it was with the Charmings in chains.
"I'm going to torture you all...and burn everything and everyone you love!" Seth raged, as his eyes bled yellow with evil and he glared down at the United Realms. In his mighty rage, he blasted Snow and David's castle in Misthaven and then Winter and Charming's near the toll bridge, torching them both. He knew they were likely empty by now, as these storms were clearly a distraction. He glared at the reserve and then the mysterious area near Bald Mountain. Even in all his immense power, he was unable to get through the shields protecting these areas and it made him livid in a way he had never been.
"I must find a way through…" he growled, as he disappeared and reappeared in Nephilim. He needed to consult Madam Mim's oldest spell books. There had to be something in one of them to combat the power of these truest loves. He had little faith in Mephisto's new charges and thus, he knew it was very likely that Winter and Charming's good halves would soon return. Which meant he needed a way to obliterate them and their entire bloodline…
~*~
Thanks to their abundance of beans, multiple portals opened with people pouring through them. Due to the nature of the barrier, created by the combined light and dark powers of Winter, Charming, and Rumpelstiltskin, it made the barrier around the Bald Mountain area nearly impenetrable, even by the mighty Seth. Another perk of the magic woven into the barrier was that anyone that walked into the refuge of the mountain through a portal had their real memories returned. Emotions were running high, especially, as many people were reunited with loved ones thought to be dead, including Abigail with her father.
"That should be mostly everyone that we could get," Leo said, as he arrived with Frankie and Joe, having retrieved them and most of the people of Storybrooke.
"Yes and it shouldn't be too crowded, thanks to the magical extensions," Regina agreed, as they arrived back from the Maritime Kingdom.
"Where is Eva...this is taking too long…" Charming said, as he paced a hole in the floor. Thankfully, a portal opened, as she and Paul arrived back from the Land Without Color and its people.
"I'm here Daddy…" she called, as he hugged her tightly and cradled her head.
"I'm okay, Daddy," she assured and then pulled back.
"I hope everyone is mostly here though. He destroyed your castle in Misthaven and the one by the Toll Bridge," she reported.
"We're safe...that's what matters most, sweetie," Winter said. He nodded.
"She's right, angel...we can rebuild when all this is over," Charming assured.
"So what now? As usual, you've built a resistance and led us all here. But Seth is worse than I ever was...so you two better have a plan," the Evil Queen asked said, as she stood beside her other half.
"Emma will bring our other halves back, along with Summer and Bobby. Until then...we ready ourselves for the battle to come," Winter declared.
"She's right...because this one is going to make the Final Battle look like a casual afternoon sparring match," Charming said.
"We've lost Fandral too...that was not a blow we needed," Elsa mentioned.
"We must hope that his friends got our message and were able to rescue them," Hermes implored and they could only hope she was right.
"Let's hope the barrier holds long enough, because Seth will do everything he can to get through that barrier," Winter whispered to her husband and he pulled her into his arms.
"It will...and Emma will be back soon," he promised.
~*~
"...and that was how we ended up in the All World River," Fandral said, as he got choked up again.
"And I almost lost the best thing that ever happened to me," he said, as he clutched her hand and Rose rested her head on his shoulder. She was cuddled against him in a large chair, as they had opted to share and no one bothered to tell them they could have their own. At the moment, he could bare to let her out of his sight or even let go of her. He was too afraid that she would disappear.
"By Odin's beard...there is really a serum that can separate a person from their good half and their bad half?" Lady Sif asked. They nodded.
"There is...it was originally created by Dr. Jekyll to separate himself from Hyde," Fandral asked.
"They are the ones in the story when you were cursed to be bear? This Jekyll is the one that tried to keep you apart, yes?" Thor asked. Rose nodded.
"He did...he separated from Hyde, but it turned out that he was the real monster all along and Hyde, though he has done some terrible things, he retained a goodness in him. He helped reunite us...despite his feelings for me," she explained.
"And your friends? Their dark halves...they don't seem all that dark," Valkyrie observed.
"They're not...they have done dark things in the name of revenge, but ultimately, like Snow and David, they still love each other and their family. They're just a little more willing to go to dark places to protect them, whereas Snow and David do so from a place of light," Fandral tried to explain.
"And your friends good halves are cursed again?" Sif asked, trying to understand.
"Yes...to protect their youngest. Seth fears his powers, which I have feeling he hasn't even begun to come into. But their eldest has gone after them in hopes of waking them up and bringing them home. The final battle with Seth draws near," Fandral answered.
"And I thought our lives were insane," Valkyrie quipped. Fandral sighed.
"We must get back to the children…" Fandral said.
"They are safe...I know our friends would make sure of that," Rose assured him. He nodded.
"If you are sure of that, perhaps it is wise to remain here until the right time to make your entrance," Thor suggested.
"That is a good idea. We just have no idea how to know when the right time will be," Fandral said. Thor exchanged a glance with Valkyrie and she rolled her eyes.
"If anyone has any kind of tech that can see across realms, it's probably one of them. It's one hell of a long shot though," she mentioned.
"We should try...I'll make the call," he said, as he stood up.
"So...he doesn't look so good. I feel badly for asking for his help," Fandral said, but Sif shook her head.
"No...this is exactly what he needs. It's been two years here too since the snap and he's been drowning himself in his own sorrows," Sif replied.
"She's right...you seem to be someone that's able to do what none of us can and that's pull him out of his misery. He feels he has no purpose now so do not feel bad about giving him one," Valkyrie admonished. Fandral nodded and Rose kissed his cheek.
"So...who is he calling?" Fandral asked curiously.
"Someone with a really big brain," Valkyrie answered.
~*~
Margaret arrived back in her classroom and started gathering her things to go home for the day. As she put things away in her bag, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and jumped when she saw Dr. Jenkins standing in the doorway.
"Oh...Dr. Jenkins, you startled me," she said, with a quiver in her voice. The way he was looking at her made her very uncomfortable and warning bells started going off in her head.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry...I don't mean to. I just wanted to thank you again for all your help. Today was quite successful, thanks to you. We made quite a team," he mentioned. She swallowed thickly and grabbed her bag in order to make a quick escape. Unfortunately, the contents of the bag went spilling to the floor instead.
"Oh dear...let me help you," he said, as he started picking her things up.
"That's okay…" she said, as she quickly stuffed things into her bag and stood up.
"I...I need to go. Bobby's waiting for me," she said, as she walked past him and fear seized her when he grabbed her arm.
"Margaret please...I think it is important that we talk," he said.
"Doctor…" she started to say.
"Margaret...please hear me out," he pleaded. He wasn't giving her much choice though, as he did not let go of her arm.
"I've never met anyone like you. Brilliant and beautiful, with a kind soul. I don't connect with many people, but I felt an instant connection with you. Can you not see that we belong together?" he asked.
"Doctor...I'm married. Happily married and very much in love with my husband. Please...let go," she pleaded, as she was now on the verge of tears. But that only made him squeeze her arm harder.
"I'm afraid I cannot do that...and you'll soon see that you belong with me," Jenkins he said in a matter of fact tone. She tore away from him, but he grabbed her and pulled her back.
"Help me!" she cried out, as he put a hand over her mouth. She bit his hand and he cried out. He backhanded her across the face and she went spilling to the floor.
"This is not how I wanted to do this, Margaret...but you leave me no choice," he said, as he pinned her on her back. She cried and screamed, but the school was mostly empty by now and those that were still around were in the gym.
"Shh...stop your struggle," he chided, as he put the scarf she was wearing around her neck between her teeth, as tears streamed down her face. She couldn't believe his strength. He didn't look all that strong, but his grip was like a vice and her struggling didn't faze him at all. She winced away in disgust, as he caressed her face.
"The moment I met you...I knew I had to have you," he leered and she tried kneeing him, but he held her knees down.
"You are so fiery...it's exhilarating, but this will help calm you," he said, as he pulled a syringe out of his jacket pocket.
"A simple muscle relaxer. You'll remain awake...but unable to fight me," he said. Her eyes widened and she continued to struggle. Just as she thought the worst was about to happen, she saw the doctor be literally peeled off her and thrown...across the room. Her son stood there, looking at his arm in surprise, wondering how he had even done such a thing, but decided that was a question for later, as he helped his mother up and into a chair.
"Mom…" he said, as he helped her pull the scarf away from her mouth and her arms flew around him.
"It's okay Mom…" he soothed, as he looked back at the doctor and put his hand up.
"You stay away...you stay the hell away from my mom!" Bobby hissed, as Jenkins started toward them.
"You won't stand in my way once I make a guinea pig out of you for my new drug. You're strong...maybe you'll be the first one to survive it. Either way, you won't be able to stop me from taking what I want," he said.
"Drug?" Margaret asked, as she saw the syringe with a red liquid in it.
"You're...you're the one my husband is looking for. You...you killed all those students and homeless people," she realized. He smirked at her with admiration.
"As usual...you are stunningly brilliant, Margaret. Such is wasted on your muscle brained husband. He's supposed to be an FBI agent and you figured it out before he did," he said smugly.
"Don't be so sure...I know my dad and he's probably already onto you," Bobby warned, as he guarded his mother.
"You don't want to tangle with me, brat. I don't mean to harm your lovely mother...I just need to show her why she belongs with me," he said.
"You're really are psycho if you think I'll let you touch her or that she belongs with you, because trust me, she belongs with my dad," Bobby growled.
"We shall see…" Jenkins said, as he kept walking toward them, causing Bobby to charge the man and they went tumbling to the floor.
"BOBBY!" Margaret cried, as she looked for something to use as a weapon.
Jenkins managed to get his hands around the boy's throat and started choking him, until he felt the incredible pain of being beamed with a chair across his back and rolled off, howling in pain. Margaret quickly helped her son up and looked him over.
"How dare you try to hurt my son!" she growled, all traces of her usual kindness gone.
"You are making this very difficult on yourself, Margaret. I do not want to hurt your boy...but I will if you do not come with me right now," Jenkins said.
"Go to hell," Bobby growled.
"I'm already there, young one...I'm already there without her to complete me," he claimed.
"You are sick…" Margaret spat, as he got up and she had no idea how. She had hit him with a metal chair, after all. He started toward them and Bobby punched him, before taking his mother's hand and leading her to the door. They were startled when they opened it and found a blonde woman there with a few other people. The woman smiled at them, like she was relieved, and put her hands up.
"It's okay...I'm a cop," she assured and they sighed in relief. But Margaret cried out, as Jekyll grabbed her and put his arm around her neck in a headlock, before dragging her back.
"Don't move...or I strangle her," he warned, as she gasped for air.
"Stop it!" Bobby cried.
"If I cannot have you, sweet Margaret...then no one will…" he hissed in her ear, before sniffing her hair.
"Let us leave...and she'll keep breathing," he said.
"You have four guns aimed at you four-eyed psycho so you're not going anywhere with her," Emma growled. But he smirked and pulled her tightly against him.
"But none of you will risk firing on me as long as I have her...she too precious…" he hissed, as he looked at her with a lustful stare. Suddenly, one of the windows in the classroom shattered in surprise and Jenkind looked that way, only in time to see a fist connect with his face, busting his glasses. He stumbled to the floor and Margaret sighed in relief, as her husband caught her before she went crashing to the floor with him.
"Oh David…" she cried, as her arms flew around his neck.
"It's okay now, my darling…" he promised, as he held her tightly. Emma smiled at them. Thankfully, some things never changed and that one thing was the love between her parents. It still shined as passionately and brightly like the brightest star in the sky.
"Hands up where we can see them," Nick warned, as he leveled his gun at the doctor. Jenkins smirked and jabbed the needle into Bobby's leg.
"Oww…" he cried out, as time seemed to stop.
"What...what did you just do?" David cried. The evil doctor looked at him with a smug smile.
"You know what I have done, agent Nolan...the same that I have done to all my other test subjects. I doubt the boy has but a few moments to live," Jenkins said.
"You son of a bitch!" Emma cried, as she felt tears fill her eyes and she tackled him to the ground, before cuffing him.
"Bobby…" Margaret said, as their son began to convulse.
"Oh God...no...no...no...I can't lose our baby," she cried, as she fell apart and they held their son.
"This is agent Martinez, I need an ambulance at North Star High School immediately. We have a student that was injected unwillingly with a dangerous substance!" Angela said into her phone. Bobby convulsed, as his parents held him and cried over him. Suddenly, the ground beneath them all began to shake.
"An earthquake? In Massachusetts?" Nick asked in confusion. But Emma and Killian exchanged a glance.
"Yeah...not an earthquake," she told them and their eyes widened.
"Are you saying the kid is doing this?" Nick hissed.
"That drug...it might have just awakened his powers," Emma said.
"But there is no magic," Killian reminded her.
"Yes there is...my parents have half the chalice hidden in their rings," she reminded him.
"Then...he might survive this," Killian said hopefully.
"It's possible…" she said, as the rest of the windows shattered and wind whipped around all of them.
"If my brother doesn't kill us all with the elements first," Emma said, as the paramedics arrived and were unsure as to what they were seeing. Her brother's magic was fighting the drug and he had a better chance than anyone else of surviving. But if he destroyed everything around him in the process, it was going to be something they would have a hard time explaining…
~*~
Summer arrived home that evening and was surprised to find the house seemingly empty.
"Mom?" she called.
"Hmm...they must still be at school," she muttered, as she dropped her bag in her room and went to the kitchen for a bottle of water. It was strange that her mother hadn't texted her that they would be this late though and she opened the fridge to grab an apple. She heard the doorbell ring at that time and went to answer it, finding a package on the doorstep. It was a little strange since there didn't seem to be a delivery truck. She shrugged and took it inside, surprised that it was addressed to her and her brother.
"That's weird...we didn't order anything," she said, but shrugged again and opened the box. Inside was a large, leather bound book with the title emblazoned in gold.
"Once Upon a Time," she read.
"Fairy tales?" she wondered, as she opened the book and was suddenly seized with a river of memories running through her.
"Oh my God!" she cried out, as it all came back to her. She put the book down and dug through the box, extracting the Dark One dagger from it.
"I need to find Mom, Dad, and Bobby," she uttered, as she grabbed her bag. She stuffed the book into it, as she heard a noise.
"Hello?" she called, but received silence. A chill ran down her spine and she clutched the dagger.
"Daddy?" she called, but somehow knew he wasn't there.
"Afraid not, young one…" a voice said and she turned to find a man that she recognized as King Arthur.
"My my...you have grown up. You were so very small the last time I saw you," Arthur said.
"As fair as your mother," Gawain said.
"You stay away from me, jerk face," she growled.
"And with the same mouth too," he quipped.
"Believe it or not...I do not want to hurt you, little one. Just give me the dagger and we will be on our way," Arthur said, as she clutched it and backed away. She ran from them, as their arms became alive with fiery chains. She screamed, as Gawain sliced through the kitchen table and she ran out the backdoor, before colliding with a young man she didn't recognize.
"I'm sorry…" he said, as he helped her up.
"Who are you?" she asked, as Arthur and Gawain tore their way through the house.
"Uh...later," he said, as he led her back to his car. Just a few moments ago, he had the opportunity to run away, but something had told him not to and now he knew why.
~*~
A Few Moments Ago
"You're welcome crazies!" he called, as the two weirdos that had forced them to drive them four hours to Boston got out in front of a nice house in a very nice suburb.
"JJ...what are you waiting for? Floor it!" Nora urged. He snorted.
"So everything you've been going on about for seven years is probably true and now you want to run?" he asked.
"Away from those psychos...yeah!" she answered. But he heard a scream from inside the house and got out of the car.
"Someone is in trouble...stay here!" he told her, as he ran around the back of the house. He may have been dragged into this conspiracy stuff unwillingly, but now that the danger was real and people needed help, that's where he shined. He wanted to help real people from real danger and he wasn't about to run away from that, even if what the danger he was facing seemed wildly unreal.
JJ took the girl's hand and they ran to his car. Nora was still in the back seat and he opened the passenger door for her.
"Get in," he said, but Summer hesitated and looked back at the house.
"I need to find my parents," she replied.
"Fine, but it's not safe here and I assure you that we're better than those freaks," he said. She nodded and got in. He ran to the driver's side.
"Where to?" he asked.
"North Star High...I'll tell you how to get there, just go," she urged, as he peeled away, leaving Arthur and Gawain behind…
~*~
Training was in full swing at the refuge, as Leo sparred his Uncle James and his wife was firing icicles at Regina, who was using fire to extinguish them, just as Eva ran into the training room.
"Honey...what is it?" Winter asked.
"Something is happening in Boston...it's all over the news," she said, as Rumple magicked a television into the room and they turned to one of the national news stations.
"And if you're just joining us, Boston is experiencing a strange series of weather events. No one is sure how or why, but the source of the earthquake appears to be a local school, North Star High," the reporter droned on.
"North Star High?" Leo asked.
"We looked it up. Your Mom teaches there under the name Margaret Nolan and Bobby is a freshman there," Paul replied.
"But...that doesn't make any sense. Why would Bobby unleash his powers?" Elsa asked.
"And how even? They're in the Land Without Magic," Leo added.
"Mom and Dad have their half of chalice, even if they don't know it," she reminded him.
"Which means something must be happening and Bobby might not be able to control his powers. It's the only way he'd ever use them out there," Regina surmised.
"Exactly...but this could be the catalyst we need. Emma should be there by now and she'll bring them home," Rumple stated.
"Except that we know Seth sent Arthur and Gawain after them and if people see those two and what they can do? There is no putting this one back in the bottle," James said. Aphrodite nodded.
"Snow and David will know what to do...we have to have faith. I'm assuming that package has been delivered?" the Goddess asked the Dark One.
"Young Summer should have it by now and with any luck she's awake so it's only a matter of time until the rest are," he replied.
"Let's hope you're right, because Seth has access to every magic book in Rose Red's library and if he finds a way through our barrier prematurely...then it's over," the Evil Queen warned.
"Then I guess it's time for you to take a page from the Charming manual as I have, Your Majesty. We must have hope," he said. She looked at him in disgust.
"Hope...that damn word. It always comes down to hope and that insipid princess and her idiot husband," the Queen complained, receiving many glares, most notably from the twins.
"I'm sorry...I love you both, but your mother and father are a menace," she complained.
"No...they're heroes and they'll be back soon to help us fight. With the United Realms joining together, all our armies, all our magic...Seth will go down and we need to be ready," Regina said. Robin smiled at her and put his arms around her.
"And we will be, because we're all heroes, especially you now," he said, as she smiled back at him.
"And if we can't put this back in the bottle? Even if we do defeat Seth...what if the whole world becomes aware of our existence?" Leo asked.
"Yeah...because something tells me that Seth might decide he wants to rule more than just the United Realms," Eva added.
"I'm afraid you're right...Seth may decide he wants to conquer the world. But we'll save it and then we may have to face an entirely new world where we are no longer hidden," Aphrodite told them.
"As hard as it may be, it can be done. There was a time on the Earth in the realm where Fandral comes from that believed magic, Gods, and heroes were mere fantasy, very recently, in fact. But that is no longer the case there and may no longer be the case here much longer. But I am certain of one thing," Hermes said.
"What's that?" Leo asked. She and Aphrodite smiled.
"Your parents will lead us through it all. Your family is a beacon of hope to everyone in the United Realms and I know that the same will be true for the whole world if such comes to be," Aphrodite declared. The twins exchanged a glance and nodded. They weren't sure they liked the idea of their family being so exposed to the world, but they knew she was right. Their parents would somehow lead them through it all with their love shining like the brightest guiding star in the sky...
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help-its-a-dot · 5 years
Text
Alright so when I took this job they said all I had to do was narrate. You know, just follow this guy around and relay what he’s doing, make it sound interesting, yada yada yada.
Ok now that I say it out loud I realize that I’ve probably looked like a stalker for the past few days.
Fun.
ANYWAYS I was going somewhere with this; I had a point. Right. My point was that I didn’t think I’d end up in the middle of a burned down park, cowering in absolute terror behind some rocks that I really wish were bigger, and longing with all that's left of my heart that I could be one of those people that are, given the situation, naturally sprinting away whilst screaming at the top of their lungs.
Should I run away? I mean, it seems like the more logical option here; If I could get over that bridge, then I’d-
*bridge disintegrates*
Well there goes that.
Looks like I’ll be narrating then! Yippee. So, I should probably warn you, I haven’t exactly been paying attention to my assigned main character, ergo I don't have that much background knowledge. Oh who am I kidding, I have none.
Anyhow, sorry, I know I should be narrating. I’m getting to that. Background knowledge. What do I know?
Uh, actually nothing much happened to this dude. A few weeks ago he found a dead body in his bathtub. Now that I think about it, that’s probably where I should’ve started paying attention….
Ah, fucked this up, didn’t I.
Also, as a side note, I’m gonna be calling this dumbass Jake because my dumbass kind of sort of didn’t ever really at all catch his name.
Alrighty folks! I’m gonna…. Be brave…. And peek out from behind these rocks…. Did I mention how much I wished they were bigger? 
Ahem. *clears throat*. Narrator voice. *nods decisively*. Lets go.
There’s fire everywhere. On the tops of trees like snow at the peaks of mountains (how are there even still trees here) bushes have morphed into bonfires, while patches of grass are practically leaking little flames like a dope game of ‘the floor is lava’.
Jake stands, looking at the devastation with wide eyes. Smoke billows out into the sky, painting the already grey clouds black.
A deafening crash sounds behind him- you know, the kind you get when a boulder squishes a four story building like it’s a three year old’s structure of off brand legos. He’s thrown to the ground, and waits, breathing heavily.
Aw god why did I forgot my flask of vodka today? I freaking need it.
And as if that weren’t enough, a spaceship just blipped into the sky.
Should I run?
I should probably run.
Sorry, sorry, I’m not very good at this narrator thing. In my defense, I didn’t think they were serious! Alright, I’m gonna try that again.
Suddenly, and quite literally out of nowhere, there’s a fatally blinding blue-red light, making everyone in the immediate vicinity-- which isn’t that many people anymore, most have used their last few remaining drops of common sense and fled for their lives --squeeze their eyes shut and hastily bury their heads in whatever was nearest and most convenient to shield themselves from impending blindness, wailing in a mix of surprise and agony. All flames previously terrorizing the verdure are extinguished and the smoke is blown out as a single gust of forceful wind, which also effectively topples the few remaining, yet charred nonetheless, trees, buildings, and people.
Augh, ew, eurgh, I got a mouthful of Martin’s grocery bag. How do I know it’s Martin’s? They have a distinctive taste of mild sadness and resignation. Right, right, the spaceship. 
See, when I say spaceship, I mean cool looking flying saucer thingy appearing like it was plucked right out of a conspiracy theory and given some upgrades. It’s a giant, azure/ultramarine blue, except for the bottom which shines in a weirdly mesmerizing yellowish glow, squished sphere. Oval. Pancake. Sorry, I don't know my shapes. It seems to be practically thrumming with energy, like it drank five red bulls followed by ten extremely caffeinated coffees and finished it all off with a few five hour energy drinks. 
I cannot tell you how much I hope it doesn't do what it looks like it’s gonna do and explode.
Meanwhile, Jake has picked up… a sword. Well shit. Medieval, much? Not a gun? No? Personally, I think a gun would be extraordinarily effective against the horde of what looks like blobs but are probably extravagantly dangerous aliens filing in a weirdly orderly single file line out of the saucer and immediately beginning to lomp closer and closer and closer crap did I mention they were getting closer?
Should I run?
I should probably run.
Hold up, no, that reminds me, I’m supposed to be narrating. God, I’m atrocious at this, aren’t I.
He feels sweat break out on his brow. The sword is heavy in his hands, and he can barely lift it, let alone decapitate a blob, but he’s in too deep to let his weariness show. He’s gotta be strong and save what’s left of these people, this city, or die trying. Which is probably what’ll happen in a few minutes. But ah, well, he’ll die fighting for Americanos , which can’t be all that bad.
Technically, if you think about it, he’s suicidal, because his colossal ego will not, quite literally, for the life of him, allow him to take a smart route, like getting into that convenient truck and bowling over all the blobs, or snatching up a gun from that store across the street, or even just alerting someone who is actually capable at dealing with an event like this like the authorities.
But what can he do, he is American, after all. It's simply unavoidable; part of the culture description. *white people i swear
He watches morbidly as Martin’s grocery bags blow past from the ruins before him, and glances up as the spaceship above him gives one final thrum and blips away, probably back to wherever it came from, leaving him alone with an army of blobs bouncing threateningly towards him.
In truth, he didn’t know what they were. All he knew was that if they kept destroying everything at this rate, there won't be a single McDonalds left in America, and he couldn’t have that. Of course, by then there wouldn’t even be an America, and everyone would have to go to the McDonalds’ in Russia. Russia has McDonalds, right? Oh, he simply could not do that to his fellow citizens! 
He pondered this, along with whether or not Australia exists, all the while counting down the seconds (...7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… dammit 3, 2, 1… 3, 2, 1… 3, 2-- he’d get it eventually) until his doom and willing his arms not to shake with the incredible weight of the sword in his hands. Whose idea was it to make swords out of metal, anyways? It’s incredibly stupid-- nowadays 90% of America wouldn’t even be able to muster the courage to touch one, let alone the strength to lift one. 
Ugh, he knew he should’ve gone with that plastic light saber he’d seen at the mall. At least then he could’ve gone down with style.
As if on cue, there’s another, at this point expected, crash resounding behind him, and he turns to watch in despair as said mall tumbles almost comically to the ground. 
There goes the light saber.
And another McDonalds.
Ohh, things were getting bad.
The park, if you could still call it a park, is deserted now save for the occasional Martin’s grocery bag skittering about, and he can’t help but give in to the desire to reflect upon his life. He wasted it, playing video games and other shit like that all day, every day. This is the first time he’s been outside in a long time. He now knows with absolute certainty that if he were ever granted such an opportunity he’d go back and redo it all. He’d try harder to beat that level, he’d get the better controller, he’d stay up later working on his technique. But all that was a distant dream now, something he could not hope to accomplish now.
He wished that maybe, just maybe, heaven would have a nice game console for him.
When he’d gotten selflessly sucked into this adventure, he never thought he’d actually die, never expected anything to really happen- If he had, he of course would never have turned the power of his last 8 braincells away from a computer screen and into the real world to start investigating.
Ah fuck, sorry for interrupting, I think I twisted my wrist or some shit while trying to get a better vantage point on these still too small rocks. 
Should I run?
I should probably run.
On a different note: I’m really sorry guys. When you take a narrator job they never tell you anything about your person. Had I known he was American, I would have immediately sabotaged this entire thing; I could never in good conscience have subjected you guys to.. well.. this.
But alas, now I’m stuck narrating an American who is going to get me killed.
Unless… Unless there’s a loophole. My parents were lawyers, so I excel at finding those.
The rules are, you have to stay with your hero and narrate their adventure. How an American turned out to be one of the heroes, I know not, it must be a glitch in the system. But I’ll be fucking damned if this glitch gets me killed. Literally. So! Once the hero, inevitably, dies, you’re free to go. There’s nothing much left to narrate afterwards. And since Jake is closer to the horde of blobs coming our way than I am, as soon as he’s bowled over I’ll sprint. To the side, like a smart immigrant would do. Not straight back, because then the blobs’d just follow me and kill me, so the only logical conclusion is to circle around them and see if my apartment is still intact. I didn’t finish my cream puffs and I really don't want them to melt.
They’re getting closer. He can hear their squelching, and the chicken nuggets in his stomach churn unpleasantly. There’s bits of goo flying off them in all directions, and when said goo makes contact with something it immediately disintegrates that unfortunate something, leaving nothing behind. Is this really the fate that’ll befall him? Is this how the world ends?
Well, death by disintegration it is then. Oh, he can’t wait to brag to his boys about this.
Oh, wait, no, that’s not right. He’ll be dead.
And, in the last few moments before the blobs reach him, he reconsiders. There’s still so much this cruel world has to offer, and he never took advantage of any of it. Nor was he ever grateful for much of it. 
He suddenly feels a new feeling. Determination. He will destroy every single one of these vile creatures, and he WILL come out of it intact. He has to. 
With new resolve he scrapes together the last of his strength and raises his trusty sword over his head, every nonexistent muscle tense, ready. They’re getting closer. Closer. 50 yards. 30 yards. 20. 10. Just a few feet.
He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes dramatically. Swings his sword.
And is immediately squashed with the most sickening squelch there could ever be.
Ew.
Should I run?
I should probably run.
Yeah, I’m gonna run.
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solarbird · 5 years
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"I don't get their whole dynamic," Sombra said, watching the site through one of the multiband cameras she'd left behind, hidden. "Not from what you've told me. She's apparently been trying to kill him since that old Overwatch HQ blew up, and now they're best buds again, all at once?"
Gabriel managed a tiny bit of a laugh, over comms. He worried that this was not enough distance - the fiction of separation became awfully small, this close to a shared target. But, well, here we are. "She's always been a bit ruthless."
"That's pretty damn ruthless, amigo. And that's coming from me. I have done some shit."
"She has!" Lena agreed.
Laticia sat, with Gabe, listening to the voices - disguised on her and Gabe's end, not maybe not enough. She... the way she talks... who did you used to be, chica?
"It's an asset," Reyes said, "in the military. At least, to a point. You do what has to be done to accomplish the mission."
"I guess I'm not very military, then," the hacker replied.
"You're right, though," Gabe continued. "She has to have some sort of plan here. Any guesses what it might be, team?"
"Maybe.. she's going to ground? And trying to talk Jack into going along?" Angela hoped, on the far side, as Widowmaker shook her head, dismissing the notion.
"No," Gabriel nodded his head, from his side of the canyon, unseen. "She's always had contingency plans." He snorted. "You should've seen her this one time in Italy - little part of Venice called Rialto. We were holed up in this restaurant, waiting for extraction, with damn near every omnic trooper in the world coming down on us us..."
Is that the same Rialto that Jesse's talked about? the hacker desperately wanted to know, but would not ask. "What'd she do?"
"Noticed the kitchen was propane and turned the entire building into a giant shaped charge, aimed right at the primary force. Saved us all."
He paused, letting the moment sit.
"She wasn't always like this. Neither of them were. It's been a while but... we were friends, once. Real friends."
"You're really hoping you can talk her down, aren't you?"
"Of course," he admitted. "If I can. Jack..."
"Nope," Venom said, flatly.
"I know that, Venom," Gabriel said. "I get it. As I said, Jack, by contrast, is a clear and present danger, and... we're going along with doing it your way. It's not my first time in the field."
"Y'know," the hacker said, "If we can't get her to cough up all the copies of the video..."
Attention in both vehicles turned to Sombra's voice. "Go on," Amélie urged.
"What if we just... hold her for a while. Get the best copy from her we can, and start dumping altered versions on conspiracy theory sites."
"You know some good ones?" Laticia asked, poking.
"I know all the good ones," Sombra shot back, and Laticia smiled, a suspicion supported.
Sombra hopped up, out of her seat in the back of the transport, and started pacing back and forth in the low-ceilinged space, thinking about the video, her footsteps audible on the link. "The videos, though, right? It's not that she has 'em, it's that they're real. So we make 'em fake. Bad. Like, really bad. And some of 'em good. Maybe the first one. Make one of 'em what actually happened, but with Tracer edited out first and then edited back in, with, maybe, slightly fucked up lighting, and some paste effects you don't notice until you get in close. Looks real, at first, but then doesn't, when checked. Underlay somebody else under Tracer, then put Tracer back on top, leaving a little fringe."
"Dirty the water," Gabe muttered, thinking.
"Yeah, amigo, exactly, right? No, better. Change the question. Get them going, 'this isn't really Tracer, so who is it really - and who's behind it?'"
"Oh," Gabe said, a smile in his voice. "I like that."
"Then maybe some meme versions, right? Making fun of the original. Have Tracer turn into an omnic, or into that gamer from Korea, or Bowser, or," she laughed, "or a chibi version of your friend, Winston. Something like that."
Lena laughed and laughed and laughed. "Seriously?"
"Absolutely!" Sombra said, getting excited by her own idea. "By the time the real one comes out - if it ever does - our fake version of the real one will have been out so long that nobody will give it a second glance! It's just another refinement, you know?"
"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," the Widowmaker said, a small grin across her face.
"Old-style psyop, straight up. Active measures, they used to call it, back before the Omnic Crisis," Gabriel mused, calculating, trying to weigh against his own confirmation bias, wanting so much for it to be enough. "...it could work."
"We should check in with, uh," Venom said, not finishing the sentence. "You know. See what they think. Get their buy-off, 'cause we'd need them to, you know."
Amélie hummed her agreement. "I think I agree. Yes. Venom, that will be for you."
Lena groaned a little at the thought of having to call Overwatch, but couldn't deny her wife was correct. "Mind you," she said, carrying on, "we need t'get them apart before we can do anything." The younger assassin looked back to her drawings of the layout. "Got t'get an original of that video."
"Peel Ana off from Jack. Yeah." Gabriel acknowledged the point. "Tricky, though. If you wound him, and the doc's suppressor field isn't effective - no offense, Teufel -"
"None taken," the Swiss German said, waving off his worry of insult. "It is still highly experimental work."
"...he might... absorb her."
"Or, he may do something more conventional, but still particularly rash," Widowmaker added. "Or she might. It is difficult to tell."
"Gabe and I found a bunch of proximity alarms," Delgado reminded the teams. "Most of 'em were dead, like the ones you found. Maybe we trip one, maybe he comes out by himself, or she does, to check it."
"And either way, then we grab 'er, that what you're saying?" Venom asked. "And the other party goes after whoever doesn't come out."
"Seemed like worth a try," Laticia said, a little defensively. "I mean, she's a sniper..."
"It's not a bad thought, luv. I like it." She grinned to herself. "And, depending on how th' dice roll, we might both get a shot."
-----
"I heard it," Jack grumbled from the couch, resting after working out. He really needed to get to those outer alarms. He knew local wildlife had tripped half of them - that every alert had just been one more false positive - but the situation had become more serious, now. "Probably another chupacabra. Every time one of those alarms gets triggered it's some damn animal or another."
"Perhaps," Ana said, frowning, dismayed a little at his casualness. "But I will check."
"No," the soldier said, rousing himself out of his torpor, feeling more out of joint than ever. Usually, workouts helped, but not as much today. "No. You cover me, while I go out." He shook himself out, trying to rally himself, physically. It worked, to a degree. "And... when I ghost... don't freak."
That much, at least, is wise, she thought, as she picked up her rifle, got into position, and nodded.
In the trees surrounding the small cabin, Venom sat, watching. "He's comin' out," she said, with a predatory grin, "and he's alone. Checking the door..."
"They are rightly suspicious," Widowmaker added. "Ana is..." She activated her helmet. "She is covering him, from inside. Do not underestimate her, even now."
"I've seen her shoot," Laticia chimed in. "I won't."
"Shit," Gabe said, "he's ghosted." They'd let the field generator untriggered, not wanting to tip Jack off, Angela and Venom both suspecting he could feel its effects. "Teufel, hit the trap!"
"Activated," Angela replied. "Is he..."
"Fuck!" Lacitica said. "Where'd he go? I saw him, I saw his cloud, then.... where the hell did he..."
"I do not have him in my sights," Widowmaker growled, frustrated. "How? How could he...?"
"I'm goin' in," Venom spat, through clenched teeth. "He's somewhere, but he's not here. We get Ana, maybe he comes back for her."
"Go. I have her in my sights - let us make sure she knows."
The single shot smashed the window, the bullet deflected as she'd anticipated, missing the Egyptian sniper. As the older woman spun to track back the shot and respond with one of her own, Venom teleported behind her, and with one blow, knocked her to the ground, dazed but not out. Ana's hand dove into her cloak for her knockout pistol, and the Talon assassin grabbed it as she did, the two wrestling, briefly, before the gun fired, once, into the wall, and a second time, into the Egyptian woman's shoulder.
"Sorry, mum," Lena said smirking, as the older woman's consciousness faded. "Not this time."
-----
Jack Morrison floated, sightless, enraged, a diffuse mass, spreading, uncontrolled.
He'd felt himself scatter, when the trap triggered. He'd felt himself fly apart, the thinnest mist, held together for now, barely, buffeted by the breeze - how, he didn't know.
But he could hear. Vibrations in the air also vibrated what was left of him, and somehow, whatever network held him together, that still - barely - let him still think, also let him understand sound. He heard the Widowmaker's shot; he heard the glass shatter; he heard the sound of Venom teleporting, he heard a scuffle, he heard two shots, and he heard Ana fall, unknowing what it all meant.
And then, as he drifted away, he heard Venom's shout.
"Y'STILL OUT THERE, Y'MONSTROUS FUCK? WE'VE GOT 'ER, NOW."
"YOU WANT 'ER BACK?"
"COME GET HER!"
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miraakhan · 6 years
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10 reasons why Thugs of Hindostan failed
This is not a film review. This is a critique of all the unwarranted criticism Thugs has garnered, which has been so extreme that part of me wonders if it’s all somewhat premeditated. But conspiracy theories aside, nothing evokes such vitriolic more than challenging the Indian people’s implicit prejudices. Which ones? Well, where do I even start. Here are just the top 10 prejudices reasons why this perfectly acceptable movie is getting unacceptable levels of hate...
1.       Because Indians are racists
How many Pirates of the Caribbean movies did they make again? And how many of them flopped at the Indian box office? I assure you, nobody was complaining about ‘illogical’ stuff in those movies. Why, because those movies were made by white and not brown people? Mind you the same junta will go watch Guy Ritchie’s Robin Hood this weekend and come out all praise for its fantastical, logic-defying action sequences. But since he’s a gora, well.. as Khudabaksh Jahazi says – “Ek Hindustani ka sabse bada dushman ek Hindustani hi hota hai.” 
2.       Because Indians are sexists
There are two female protagonists in the movie. And needless to say that is just two too many for the patriarchal junta of India. How dare they have a female character who is not a damsel in distress, but instead is a terrific archer and kicks total ass?!? To top that, how dare they have the other one be a prostitute with clear agency over her body, a rebellious mind of her own, and wield actual power over her male patrons? Nope, that’s just too much for desi pricks to handle, isn’t it? Also, given Aamir’s very vocal support of the #MeToo movement in India, I won’t be surprised if the social media attack on the movie was an orchestrated effort to hurt him for it.
3.       Because Indians are ageists
This is a country that clearly still idolizes youth and still hasn’t seen life expectancy go up like in the developed world. So how ridiculous to have a septuagenarian play one of the leading heroes, isn’t it?!? How utterly unbelievable to have said man look his exact age too, maybe even older. Mind you this is the country that happily sits through heavy-duty special effects just to have Rajni in a movie look half his age, because who the hell would ever come to theaters to watch Rajni the way he truly looks like now? 
4.       Because Indians are casteists
I hadn’t thought of this myself until an article in the Indian Express pointed it out. Firangi Malhar – Aamir’s character is clearly what one would call a ‘low-born’ hailing from an oppressed social and economic background. But that simply won’t do, will it? Did the movie makers really expect Indians to root for a… a Dalit? How dare they force us to confront our deep-rooted casteist prejudices like that, when all we want to do is enjoy a movie on a long weekend?
5.       Because Indians are religious bigots
And let’s not forget the other sacrilegious decision the movie makers now live to regret… to have three out of the four main protagonists be Muslim?! Oh my God. Literally. Keep in mind who this country voted into power five years ago and probably will again next year – a Hindu fundamentalist wannabe-dictator with a track record of supporting communalist elements in his own party. Here’s what’s funnier but also sad: the villains are more secular than the audiences of this movie. The British are actually celebrating Dussehra, and even if it’s nothing more than cultural appropriation, it’s still more religiously tolerant than Indians these days. 
6.       Because Indians are self-righteous hypocrites
The self-righteousness dripping from some of the reviews I read online is both laughable and infuriating. What about the word “Thugs” did these apparently literate guys not understand? Protagonists can be regular people too you know, and regular people are not perfect. The heroes in this story aren’t trying to be heroes, nor do they claim to want anything more than their very deeply personal objectives – revenge, resolving internalized guilt etc. In fact, the only person who ends up risking everything without any personal agenda, is Suraiyya Jaan. But does the desi audience appreciate the multidimensional complexities of these very human characters? Noooo. In a period movie set during the colonial era, desi heroes better be a sati savitri, or sata savitra, or they might as well be villains.
 7.       Because Indians are stereotypers
So if the Indian audience is to be believed, stereotyping morons that they are, Aamir Khan should only do movies with a social message in them and nothing else. He’s an actor for god’s sake, why can’t he just do a movie for the sheer entertainment value of it? He has repeatedly said so in his interviews, to the very same media people who now completely choose to ignore his pleas to just let him be an artist. The fact that he is socially responsible is a huge bonus that we should all be bloody grateful for, not use it to put him in a box that restricts his creative instincts. (And if some of you are now arguing that I’m doing the same thing, stereotyping all Indians as the same, well I’m sorry. I know I’m doing it, but at least now you know how it feels.)
8.       Because Indians are ungrateful
How quickly everyone seems to have forgotten the immense contributions Aamir and Mr. Bachchan have made to Bollywood. And this isn’t unique to the film industry. Indians are just as ungrateful to their sports idols, refusing to acknowledge that sportspeople, like actors, are only human. Everyone is bound to have bad days. So what if Yuvi doesn’t perform today, why let it erase the memory of the six sixes he hit in Durban ten years ago? How is it okay to insult and deride this man who is trying his best? It’s especially hurtful when it happens to Aamir because he’s been incredibly selfless in his attempts to improve quality of life in India. Sadly, Aamir, this society does not appreciate, let alone be grateful for, your activism, or your artistry.
9.       Because Indians are group-thinking morons
I don’t know if this is particularly true for desis or just a human trait in general. But it’s particularly hilarious to see it play out on social media. The lack of individual thought is sorely evident in all the reviews and trolls I read online. Also, newsflash, if all you do is retweet, reblog, and forward, you might as well be a mindless bot spreading fake news but adding no value to the discourse whatsoever. If you have a contrarian opinion (like maybe you actually liked the movie) but are too afraid to share it, why have a social media page at all? And for God’s sake, if you never saw the movie, shut the fuck up.
10.   Because Indians are trolls
Years of repression is likely responsible for this surge in social media trolling in India, but come on, you can only understand and excuse this behavior for so long. These trolls seem to have taken special interest in bringing down our biggest heroes and mind you, Aamir truly is a hero in real life – the kind we sorely need. And yet, for the very same reasons, he seems to have a target on his back, especially on the internet where cowards attack him while hiding behind anonymity. No matter what their agenda (jealousy, SRK stans, an episode of SMJ hit too close to home), they seem intent on holding Aamir personally responsible for shortcomings of the movie. I’ll admit Thugs isn’t perfect but none of its faults are the actors’ fault. Either way, I don’t think they’re doing it mindlessly. Like I said before, I strongly suspect an orchestrated conspiracy to bring the movie down. Why? Well, take your pick. Aamir has definitely pissed off a lot of people who want to keep the status quo. 
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