#preparing to move temporarily to a different continent

[arobinwithoutbatman]

((Should I be moving Asks over to their own threads rather than reblogging them and having issues trimming them later in xkit? Yeah probably.

Have I had the patience for that lately? Nnnnnnnnnnnnope~))

[obscureoperations]

This was just a prompt suggestion from @mynameisliterallycash

The one where Martin and Reader sneaks out to get hitched...I sorta rambled on this so it’s all over the place, but then again... what else is new😂

Your eyes remained fixated on your reflection, you really did look like your mother. Your eyes were almost identical, everything from the indiscernible color down to the forlorn gaze. It was a compliment really, your mother was practically your best friend. You used to think you could tell her everything. You used to follow her around relentlessly, even well into your teen years. You can still remember this beautiful, effervescent figure lifting you from your crib at two a.m. This warm vanilla sort of scent would surround you, in that moment  you felt completely safe. 

As time went on, you continued to follow her around like a lost puppy. She was so much nicer than your father. The smell of stale cigars and whiskey as he constantly reminded you of the “ rules”  

“Some folks are not to be messed with”

Your family was distinctly Russian, and pretty well known around the town. Your father was the owner of one of the largest steel factories in the city, that job practically consumed him. It wasn’t rare that he wouldn’t return home till ten… eleven o'clock at night. Bur even then, he remained this overbearing and severe presence in your life.

He dictated nearly everything, from what you wore to who you could be friends with. Dating was pretty much out of the question. You became accustomed to sneaking out the window at night. Evenings spent in the grassy fields overlooking the city with two of your best friends. You wondered how he couldn’t smell the alcohol on your breath at the breakfast table.

~

You glance over to the clock, noting it was almost ten pm. You had to finish up, he would be here any minute. You weren’t prepared for him to see you yet, but in a way you never really were. The first time you laid eyes on Martin, you could have sworn your heartbeat stilled just for a moment. He sat behind the counter at Cuda’s shop, face buried in a magazine.He practically followed you through the entire store before some old man flagged him away. Even then he continued to glance at you as he swept.

As you stepped up to the check out he refused to look at you as he scanned your items. 

“That’ll be thirty two forty”

As you reached into your pocket book, change began to spill onto the counter. You were already cursing yourself for being so clumsy. He helped you scoop it up with barely a second glance, fingertips brushing against yours occasionally. 

“Here ya go…” You offer as you fish out two crisp twenty dollar bills. When he reaches for them, he absentmindedly glances up. You could still remember the expression on his face. Pins and needles, it looked almost as though he had been struck. He reaches for the money, eyes still transfixed on your face. The boy seemed to momentarily glitch. The tips of his fingers brushed against yours lightly, lingering before he hastily withdrew. He began to stammer as he bags up the rest of your things. He practically shoved the bags into your arms as he wished you a good day.

“Thanks..” You mumbled, barely able to contain your grin. You were back in the shop the very next day.

~

Everything became easier as soon as 

 Martin entered your life, and you really didn’t understand why. He had problems, most of them rooted deeper than your own, but you found yourself growing happier each day. You looked forward to hearing from him, seeing his face-- watching the way he would bound down the street to your front porch. You looked forward to making him smile,it always touched the corners of his eyes. He would blush when you stared into them for too long. There was not  a second  that you were around-- that there wasn’t a splash of color across his cheeks. 

Even as he began to confide in you more,and divulge the depth of his sickness. Somehow you felt that you could make it all better, for one-- you had to get him away from that house.

You didn’t mean to propose, but in a way you kind of did. You jokingly mentioned it just to test the waters. You don’t even remember exactly what you said-- something along the lines of “ Yea, so like when we’re married, it’ll be easier. Couples go on trips all the time.” 

The two of you were sitting on the couch watching shome mind numbing documentary. Something about travel laws in east Berlin.. He mentioned how beautiful Berlin was and how he really wanted to go. The two of you began to talk about passports, about when you and your family moved to America.

He grew extremely quiet for a moment, and you already began to mentally kick yourself. You knew Martin wasn’t like other guys, where if you showed too much interest, they were gone. But still, you felt as though you might have crossed a line, You’d come so far simply getting him to open up to you.

When he finally speaks up, his voice is extremely low, you had to struggle just to hear him. “ When do you think that would be?”

“I’m sorry?”

  He clears his throat, you didn’t have to look to know he was beet red-- “ I mean… you would marry me.. If I asked?”

Your stomach did some weird sort of back flip, there was something so innocent in his tone. It was as if the idea was completely foreign. “ Yeah… of course I would.” You tried to remain as casual as possible, in your head you just dodged a major bullet. He doesn’t say anything else, instead inching close as his arm wraps across your shoulder.

~

The faint tapping on the glass alerts you of Martin’s presence. Your heartbeat begins to hammer against your ribs. You allow your eyes to move over your reflection once again, smoothing your hands over the silky material. The dress fit you almost perfectly, despite you being a few inches taller than your mother. The delicate embroidery along the waistline stood out all the more under the warm glow of the lamp light. The plunging neckline was almost modest, though it showed off slightly more than you would have liked. Where the two of you were heading, it didn’t really matter. Just you him and the ‘ordained priest’ This wasn’t exactly how you envisioned your wedding day. 

You weren't established in your life, on a completely different continent with some local that managed to steal your heart. You were here in your childhood bedroom, wearing your mother’s wedding dress... waiting for Martin.  Your eyes move over the various posters on the walls, you could distinctly remember buying each one. You glance over at the dull plaid comforter on your bed, the plain white sheets beneath. This would be the last time you’d be seeing this room for a while.

“Y/n?” He calls.

“It’s open…” you answer, brushing a few stray tendrils of hair away from your face. The window creaks open and Martin climbs in-- The first thing you notice are his shoes. The black and white sneakers are a stark contrast to his dress pants, instantly you didn’t feel quite so out of place. He lands almost awkwardly on his feet  as he adjusts his collar, he was just about to apologize for being late. He wasn’t late. He was just used to being exceptionally early-- you glance at the clock, it was almost eleven.

“I accidentally ripped a hole in the jacket earlier so I had to--”

The moment his eyes land onto your face he seems to temporarily lose his train of thought. His hand immediately reaches for the dresser to steady himself. Images swirl through his mind in a grey and grainy blur. He could never quite figure out why your face alone seemed so familiar. You weren't like any of the ladies in his dreams.. This felt different. The sight of you alone caused this indescribable ache right in the center of his chest. He felt as though he had waited for you for centuries. 

“Y/n…” He whispers, stepping in to close the gap. His hands immediately move to your wrists, holding them in place against your ribs. His face moves to the crook of your neck as he exhales slowly. You can practically feel the tension melt away  from his body...as it always did when you stood near.  “You’re so beautiful…” he whispers. His hands grasp at the hem of your dress, fingertips lightly brushing over your bare thighs. 

You bite down on the insides of your cheeks to suppress a grin… he was so cute when he was flustered. 

You tilt your head to look at him, adjusting one of the lapels on his jacket.

“Yeah… so are you.”

~

 The streetlights were nothing more than an orange and hazy blur. The second the two of you landed safely on the lawn, Martin took off in full speed straight towards Main street. Autumn air bites into your cheeks the harder you fight to keep up with him, laughter brewing in your chest. The exhilaration threatening to tear you in half

“Come on!” He huffs as you struggle to keep up the pace. All heels against rain soaked pavement. You figured the two of you would stick to the gangways. But he seemed adamant on showing you off.  All the neighborhoods that you stuck to religiously during your commute were finally dead. Not a light shining from any of the windows. Like a ghost town, you almost wanted to scream at the top of your lungs that Martin was finally yours.

Stuck at a stoplight, you begin to shiver as your heart rate finally begins to slow.  There was a new found excitement in Martin that you’d never witnessed in the entire time that you had known him. He glances over to you briefly, draping his jacket across your arms.  He kisses your temple  briefly as his arm slips around your waist.

“We’re almost there.”

~

You could clearly see the top of the steeple as your heels dig into the mulch. Something about the small hill seemed far more daunting in the middle of the night. The forest was one of your favorite places to go, but there was a chilly sort of bite to the air. For some reason you expected your father to emerge from one of the bushes demanding that you come back home. The further you climbed your feet sank deeper into the ground. You felt as though you were drowning for a moment, threatening to be absorbed into the grass--as if on cue Martin reaches for your hand. He pulls you close as you find your footing, before you knew it you stood at the top of the slope.  Wind continues to howl through the branches, twisting nearly nightmarish shapes. Lips press against your forehead, in a way reminding you of where you were. He wraps his jacket around you securely. 

You allow yourself to melt into his embrace, the strong thrum of his heartbeat directly against your ear. He allows his hands to lovingly smooth over your back, cheek resting against the top of your head. He holds you like this for a bit longer, until he can practically feel you relax.

“Y/n…” 

“Hmm?” you mumble lazily..It was almost like a drug when he held you for this long. Your heartbeats were practically in sync, you didn’t want to lift your head.

“You still want to marry me right?”

Those were the words that snapped you back to reality. When you glance up at him, he looks so worried it breaks your heart. His skin was nearly luminescent under the moonlight-- the chilly air tints his cheeks slightly pink. 

You raise your hands to cup his face before pressing your lips to his own. You can feel him visibly relax, though his hands bunch at the fabric of your dress.

“Martin, I’ve never wanted anything more.”

A lone figure stands in front of the abandoned church, cat tails nipping at his feet.  The singular white patch right at the center of his uniform catches the moonlight. He signals for the two of you to step inside.

[soliloquality]

For Now - T.C.

It’s been a few months and you guys miss each other, mostly fluff, one allusion to the deed (but not really)

word count: 1240

It’s hard sometimes, waking up in different cities, different countries, different continents.

I’m shooting in Massachusetts all through October. Fine, I’ll be in L.A. then, Eastern Romania in November, Brisbane for Christmas. 

No one ever said that love was easy, especially not with schedules and distance in the way, so it was needless to say that you were quite proud of yourself. It had been four months since you’d last seen your boyfriend and now it was just one more week until January 3rd, the day of your big reunion. It’d be all laughs and smiles, your L.A. apartment, then his parent’s house in New York. Ten days of just the two of you, no meetings, no appointments, no work. But for now, you still had six days to get through, one hundred and forty-four hours without hearing his voice in person or smelling his cologne, one hundred and forty-four hours without his touch. 

Brisbane’s your home, Christmas your favorite holiday, and yet you feel lonely because he isn’t here with you. It’s pathetic, you know that, but you can’t stop pitying youself. To be so far from the person closest to you, so excluded from his day to day life, yearning to share even the smallest parts of yours with him.

You met three years ago, introduced by Saoirse on a night out while the two were shooting Lady Bird and you were in the middle of rehearsals for Ready Player One. Just a few weeks and three dates later, you’d fallen for him, head over heels and whole-heartedly, smitten by his charm, his humor, his everything. He was your everything, but you were never in the same place for long, shooting movies all over, going on press tours, practically living on opposite sides of the world. But all of that would be temporarily forgotten in a few days, you’d be together and happy, and then it was just three more months until you finally moved to New York.

“It won’t make that much of a difference, but at least the time zones won’t be completely messed up. And we’ll be closer in distance, which is also a nice change,” Timmy had said once you announced your decision. “Exactly. And when I miss you too much I’ll just go see your parents. They’re much cooler than you anyways.” You’re not wrong about that, darling.

Lissy stepped inside the sun room, phone in hand. You perked up. “Someone called three times. Bet it’s the same someone that broke the internet last week?”

“I’d be disappointed if it wasn’t,” you laughed, taking the phone from your sister. That, the part about Timmy breaking the internet, already had your breath turning heavy. He’d posted a picture, taken the year that you had spent Christmas together at his parent’s house, your back facing the camera but head turned over your shoulder, biting down on a truffle with a mischievous glance in your eyes, Timmy on the couch behind you, holding his arms out in preparation for an embrace. Moments after, you’d dropped into his grasp, shared the treat with him, cracked a joke or two. For now, till you come home to me, that had been the caption and you had cried about it on facetime, neither joyful nor miserable, just overwhelmed with gratitude.

You spoke on the phone for a bit, talking about the Christmas celebrations and family outings. All the good food and generous gifts.

“Granny Stokes got Lissy a popcorn maker, honestly the best idea ever, but she made us watch Titanic last night, much to the dismay of my dad. Did you like the present Pauline got for you?”

“I knew you were behind that! She insisted that she came up with the idea, but you were the only one I told about that brand.”

You grinned to yourself, tracing the sequined cushion on you parent’s couch. “My bad. Judging by the amount of pictures you sent me on Instagram I thought that you couldn’t shut up about it in real life too. But it’s time for them to get recognized, their tees are the best.”

Something rustled on the line. “Are you outside?”

“No, just closing the window. It’s so cold in New York, you’d probably freeze to death,” Timmy said, his voice far from the speaker. You bit your lip. “Well, I’d have you to warm me up, wouldn’t I?”

There was more noise, then he was back on the phone. “Hey, quick question. Have you found an outfit for your mom’s theme party?”

“I could basically wear everything, but I think I’ll go for shorts and a checkered button-down. Apparently Glamping’s much more about the decoration anyways and my mom went super overboard, I’m not kidding. It’s even more serious than last year’s flamingo luau. She’s got tipis and shit.”

Timmy laughed slightly and you straightened up on the couch, delighting in the softness of him. “Can’t wait to see the pictures.”

“And what about you? Everything settled for New Year’s Eve?”

“Yeah, basically,” he said, then paused. “My mom’s making potato salad for dinner and I’m going out with Phil and the lot.”

You grimaced at his tone. He sounded less than excited, tired even. A glance at your watch and you knew it was two am in New York.

“I just really miss you, love. Wish I could spend some time with you, have you in my arms.”

“‘S not that long till the 3rd, baby.”

He whined, kind of, and even though it was endearing, you had to laugh a bit. “But I miss you too, if that helps.”

“Hmm. Makes it worse, actually.”

“Okay, one last try then,” you said quietly, murmuring almost, and hoped that Lissy was well out of earshot. “I have something just for you. It’s hidden in the back of my closet and I think it might get me in trouble. Like real trouble, if you know what I mean.”

“Babe,” he said, amused, “Did you go on another La Perla splurge?”

You frowned. “Wow, Timothée. You’re ruining all my fun.”

“Just trying to keep it all together here.”

A small smile formed on your lips, a tingle in your stomach. “What, miss me so much that we can’t even have phone sex?”

“It’s called anticipation, love. Some things are worth waiting for.”

You scoffed playfully, but your smile became wide, almost hurtful. “Well, my mom warned me. You’re way too fucking sweet.”

“Some might even say romantic.”

“Or cheesy.” Sarcasm dripped from your voice, but it was just teasing. You were always on board with romance, corny or not, and your hands were already becoming sweaty at the thought of reuniting with Tim.

“Whatever it is, I don’t remember you complaining,” he remarked, sounding half-asleep. You imagined him tucked in bed in his apartment, wearing thick pyjamas and wrapped in blanket upon blanket while you were in shorts and tank, tan lines on your torso from countless hours on the beach.

“Timmy?”

“Yeah?”

You laid on your back, closed your eyes.

“I love you.”

He paused and you listened to him breathe, yearning to be beside him, in his arms, feeling him on your skin, his breath, his warmth, his hands. Six days to go, one hundred and forty-four hours. Less than a full week and you’d finally be able to kiss him.

“I love you too.” His voice was barely above a whisper and your heart ached. “Can you stay on the phone until I fall asleep?”

It’s hard sometimes, waking up in different cities, being so far from the person you’re closest to. 

“Of course, baby.”

But some things are worth the wait.

[hyunjin-ius]

Say What You Wanna (with my body)

Say What You Wanna (pt.I?)

Genre: Angst, little bit of smut,

Pairings: reader X Chris, reader X Changbin

Warnings: whore!reader, mention of prostitutes

Word count: 2,5K

Description: After all Chris might not be your happily ever after. But while you were blinded by said man, someone else might have just developed real feelings for you. How can a past whore deal with being loved or is it just lust playing the main role in her new relationship?

Writer’s note: Please please please for a better reading experience listen to Tujamo – Say What You Wanna. The whole story was inspired by this song. (ALSO I’m new to this whole writing thing moreover english is not my mother tongue, so please bear with me. Lastly, let me know if you want the story to be continued :D )

It’s been more than a month. More than a month that you and Chris have decided to seperate. It wasn’t exactly your choice. Chris have had his mind set. You weren’t asked questions, he wasn’t interested in your opinion either. Like lightning striking out of the blue he just snapped one day.

Waking up next to his body on that specific morning felt oddly strange to say the least. The past days were spent with nothing but work work and work. You at your 9-5 suddenly becoming 6-9 and Chris having a hard time with his comeback preparations. Both of you were exhausted and drained…and sadly the company of each other no longer lightend the mood or made your days better. Living together in your shared apartment ment that you couldn’t let loose even at home since the other one wanted to have a break, wanted to sleep, or in your case…wanted to cry. Frankly you felt the tension in the air, your 6th sense activated but you couldn’t vision what was coming your way. That morining Chris made you coffee as usual but after that he went to the balcony. You saw him lighting a cigarette which was unusual but a tell tale sign of him being extremely anxious. He was sipping on his coffee and puffing out dark grey smoke clouds into the air. You hated the fact that he was smoking. It was a well kept secret since him being a singer ment that his vocal chords needed special treatment which was not including cigarettes. You didn’t question him that morning. The rest of the day was spent quietly. Up until the moment you’ve said that you wanted to go out for lunch. You wanted to spend some quality time with your boyfriend of 4 years, wanted to dress up, wanted to look pretty for him. But Chris had other things in mind. He didn’t answer you. You were standing in your living room as far from each other as possible. You saw him tense up even more.

„I don’t think a lunch in town can solve our problems” was all that you got. Talking about your problems, you sure had a few. Your future together seemed darker and darker with each passing day. It took you 4 years to realize that. But you’ve felt strong enough to endure the hardships life was throwing at you. You’ve tried to talk to Chris countless times about your feelings. About him not being open enough about his plans with you. About the two of having no future together. He kept quiet about his feelings. It seemed like the two of you were match made in heaven. But from the inside it felt like you were matched with a person staright from hell.

You couldn’t deny the fact that Chris was beyond handsome, his body, his face, his charisma was indescribable. It was enough to pull you in. He was caring and loyal…to a point. It wasn’t easy with him being surrounded by hundreds of screaming girls all the time. You knew what was happening during their long tours, you knew that they were all enjoying the company of girls and boys after concerts. You weren’t an angel either to begin with. You’ve met Chris as one these girls after one of his gigs. It was all planned as usual. If people asked about your job you’d tell them that you work at a modelling agency. Modelling agency was the legal way of saying that you were a part-time prostitute. It really wasn’t your dream job of course. You just needed money and luckily had the face and body to achive such goals easier than others not as fortunate as you. The two of you met after the last concert of the first tour of Stray Kids. The company especially called for you to come and entertain one of the boys. You weren’t unfamiliar with Stray Kids but couldn’t name one of the members for the sake of your life. Then you came face to face with Chris. Turns out the boys were given pictures of that day’s whores and they were allowed to decide with whom do they want to spend the night. Chris choose you. He was eager to please you. The spark was between the two of you from the first second. His cock was hard for you from the moment you stepped into the dressing room. It was just the two of you and the sexual tension eating its way up in your bodies. He kissed you with such vigour that made you lightheaded. You weren’t used to this feeling. Feeling attached to one of your clients. But there you were making out with Chris while feeling him up through his jeans. The bulge in his pants was obvious from the start.

„Drop to your knees” he half ordered half asked you

Sucking on his cock was a marvellous experience. The boy was extremely vocal about how you made him feel with your mouth. You were expereinced at giving oral but you couldn’t remember the last time you had so much fun pleasuring a man. And boy did he pay back for your service. Eating you out, fingering you and really making you his bitch before entering you. You were pushed to one of the mirrors in the room. Trying to hold up with your hands on the mirror while Chris was pounding into you from behind wasn’t easy. He took his sweet time with you. Enjoying the view with the help of the mirrors even more. Suddenly piciking up his pace you knew he was close. Pulling his cock out of you he came on your bare back. He asked you to stay in place, he wanted to take photos of his cum splattered on the back of a whore. You were used to this as well. These boys had nothing but their bitches to help them out in situations like this. It wasn’t like they could go to the next bar to pick some girls up. They needed professionals who were able to keep their mouths shut about the dark side of the kpop industry. After taking the pics Chris cleaned you up with caring movements. It was obvious that he was into you. Usually idols would leave you behind with cum anywhere and everywhere on your body. You weren’t complaining. They wanted release not a relationship. But this time was different.

A few days later you were contacted by your agency. Chris wanted to spend the night alone with you. And this is story of how the two of you became madly in love. Chris wanted you as his girlfriend, but only if you could be his and only his. He helped you with finding a job at his company, and asked you to quit being a prostitute. Life was extremely difficult at that time. Balacing your not so usual job and your not so usual boyfriend made you depressed. The same depression that creeped its way into your everyday life after 4 years too. You knew that Chris still enjoyed the company of whores and that you were a whore in the past to begin with. You were afraid each and every day. When will Chris announce that he has found someone better, someone less depressed and less anxious? Or to put it simply when will he finally speak up about his emotions.

Eventually the day has arrived. You were in your living room which soon will only be his. The two of you looking at each other as strangers meeting for the first time.

„So” you started „Should I start packig my stuff?” you asked without a sign of anger. You were calm. You didn’t see it coming, but you weren’t one to play with. If he wanted to end things then you are going to be the one who has the last word. Chris didn’t say a thing. He looked down to the floor.

„I’ll take it as a yes!” you answered your own question. Looking around the apartment you didn’t really know where to start. Everthing was shared. Chris sensed your mood changing. In his mind he expected you to cry as you would usually do in pressuring situations. But you seemed to be everything but heart-broken. He decided to flee from you, from the moment. Brusing past you he grabbed his car keys and left the apartment.

 More than a month has passed since. That was the last day the two of you talked. After he left the house you called one of your closest friends, explained your situation in a hurry and asked for her help. You moved to her flat temporarily until you could find something to rent alone. You were thankful to God and the higher powers that dispite the fact that Chris and you worked at the same company you haven’t crossed paths since the break up. You were not in the position to quit your job just because of Chris. You needed money now more than ever, which actually made you reconsider the hoe life and its pros and cons. Sure, years have gone by, you weren’t as young any more eventhough you were still in your early 20s. But now you were stronger than ever, and more experienced. You used to plan to live your life with Chris and only Chris. Now you were planning to live your life according to your rules and your rules only. You were constantly thinking about your opportunities and chances at life. You wanted to fix things with yourself.

One night your phone lit up signaling a new message. You were in the middle of apartment hunting on your laptop and paid little to no attention to the continous massage sounds and lights. Then the long forgotten skype window of your past ’modelling agency’ popped up on your laptop.

„Playing hard to get huh?” accoring to skype the message was written by one of your past bosses.

„So Chris is cancelled right?”  came the second text right after the first one. Curiosity take over you and you reached for your phone. Unlocking the screen you saw nothing but the name ’Seo Changbin’ everywhere. You weren’t exactly close to anyone in Stray Kids except for Chris of course. You would see each other come and go in the company, but none of the boys were a fan of mingling their professional life and private life. Altough spending so much time together it was only natural that some of them would open up to each other. You knew that Chris was extremely close to Changbin and Jisung.  The three of them being the heart and soul of Stray Kids. But now you were bewildered. What does Changbin want from you?

„You really went as far as reaching for me on skype?” you typed on your phone as an answer to Changbin’s many questions regarding the Chris situation.

„I’d say im persistent” Changbin knew about your past life. After your first time with Chris the boy sent the photos of your back covered in his cum to their group chat. Just another thing that came natural to them after a good fuck. The next day you’ve found yourself in Changbin’s lap. He was different from Chris in many many ways. Sex with him was more about executing his commands. But it wasn’t any less pleasurable. It was actually nice to being told what to do. Changbin always got what he wanted. Just like how he was able to write to you in the name of your past boss. After Chris have officially asked you out you had to cut ties with everyone from the prostitute industry. You hated to admit it but it felt nice that someone was paying attention to you again. Especially since it was coming from Changbin. You knew far well why he was so eager to talk to you now. Changbin always voiced his thoughts, something you were not familiar with while you were living with Chris.

 It went against all your instincts but you’ve decided to give in and meet Changbin. You knew how to play this game. Now more than ever you wanted to be the one who’s in charge. You’ve had enough with Chris, you were fed up with boys not speaking their mind, leaving you in the dark. But knowing Changbin you shouldn’t have worried about the man not voicing his thoughts. Especially thoughts concerning you. You’ve met in a high end restaurant open only for idols and their guests, since going to just any place still wasn’t an option. Small talk was really not Changbin’s cup of tea yet the two of you’ve managed to keep the conversation going. Changbin was calm and collected during the meal. It seemed like he had planned everything in advance. He was wearing a black silk shirt, the material enhancing his taut chest. Catching feelings for him wasn’t difficult.

„Does Chris know that we are here together?” you asked out of curiosty while sipping on your wine. Changbin looked at you with fire in his eyes

 „It’s none of his bussiness to know how and with whom I spend my freetime” his answer came strained. You didn’t mean to anger him. You just wanted to know if they were still talking about you. After his reaction you were sure that your name was a sensitive topic between the boys.

 „Chris fucked up your life more than needed” Changbin continued after a while „You two shouldn’t have crossed the line back then”

 „Well” you interrupted him „He was the one who wanted the relationship. I was fine with being one of his whores”

 „Exactly” Changbin smiled and nodded „You shouldn’t have crossed the line” he repeated. A short pause came before he started to talk again „He never really knew what he wanted to do with you other than fucking you 7/11. It was a pain in the ass to witness all the shit you’ve been through just to stay with him. And to see how Chris was about to throw you out one day”

 „Don’t tell me that you knew what was going on between us” you exclaimed both in surprise and disbelief

 „Not between the two of you” Changbin rectified „I just saw your struggles from outisde and somehow I was able to put the pieces together” he finished his thoughts. You remained silent. Your mind on the other hand was louder than ever. Maybe it was obvious from the start that you weren’t made for each other. Maybe everyone saw it but you. You wanted your relationship to work but mainly because of Chris. He wanted a girlfriend, someone who was there for him through thin and thick. But what was your motive other than pleasing Chris at every given chance? What did you get in return from Chris that you couldn’t get from any other men?

 „Changbin” you started after a while. Looking deep in the eyes of the man sitting across you „Do you know what you want from me?” Changbin smirked at your question.

 „Isn’t it obvious?”he whispered

[thisway-imagines]

Could you write the summoner trying to have Zelgius to have fun by throwing Mochi (No NY Takumis were harmed) at him to have him retaliate?

it’s lunar new year where i’m at, so hell yeah!!! this is such a fun request here you go!!

also it’s really long because i have no self control - over 2k words babey

Zelgius, the Black Knight, the still general of Begnion, the man who held a mysterious aura around him constantly…

…did he ever lighten up, honestly?

You sighed heavily, for it had been months since he had been summoned here and yet Zelgius was incredibly stiff and unsure of his surroundings no matter how much you tried to welcome him into Askr - the general was too weary and too suspicious of people in here, especially with the likes of the Tellius soldiers around (Zelgius was especially wary of the Ikes that wandered around the castle, always looking at them with a glimpse of sorrow in his eyes). As the summoner, you felt like you were in charge of settling people down into Askr - you personally understood the feeling of unease and fear upon arriving in such a new place with new responsibilities and war to fight in. It was incredibly tough, and missing home was always a constant feeling tugging against your body lightly.

But with Zelgius, you couldn’t read what he was feeling. You knew that it wasn’t always your own responsibility to be shoving yourself in others’ personal affairs, but it was heartbreaking for you to see Zelgius sitting all alone in the mess hall, the forlorn look in eyes ever-present since the day he arrived in your summoning hall in such a pitiful state (he was so injured, so terribly injured and wounded like a small animal despite his physique), the cold way he conducts himself within the castle… you just wanted to make him feel welcome to Askr, where many come from different unique backgrounds and won’t discriminate him the way he was treated back in his home. Askr’s vast libraries gave you access to the many histories of the continents that existed outside of its own, and the books were discriminatory and criticized Zelgius’ actions heavily - and it made your heart sunk when Zelgius stumbled upon your summoning stone one day in such a pitiful state. From the day you summoned him, you were sure that he wasn’t the person those books told you he was - the pain he held in his eyes told you so on that day.

There was a massive effort for you to try and befriend him - you would sit next to him and converse with him little by little as if not to overwhelm him, but to show that you only wanted to befriend him. He was a shy man outside of his cold exterior, shown through his stumbling and quiet tone he held with you - and whenever he did have a problem, Zelgius would come to consult you for any opinions. Great progress was created between you two, but…

He never really smiled - even around you.

Hah, and you really thought he was starting to trust you, huh?

You shook away your thoughts. People don’t have to smile to show that they trust you! Zelgius is probably the closest to you out of all the other heroes, and…

But is he really enjoying his stay here? He still looks miserable as ever.

You sighed again. What can you do?

As you continued to fiddle with the pen and the map in front of you, your thoughts drifted to the events that happened and were happening. You remember trying to get Zelgius to give candy out to the children, but his glare had intimidated everyone so much they refused to go near him. For Christmas, it had been significantly more successful with him as Santa with a silly ‘ol beard slapped onto his face and the big Santa hat placed over his head - this time, children flocked to him like hordes. While you found it incredibly amusing as it was smooth sail, you immediately panicked when you found out Zelgius had passed out on the spot as more children clambered on him and poked him; you had to spend a lot of time apologizing to him afterward.

Now, New Years was just around the corner - chatters of the new year were heard often in the castle as you patrolled around, there were heroes running around with various decorations in preparation for it, the New Year heroes having forming a small clique amongst each other about the traditions and so on. The energy within the hallways was bustling nowadays - but your head was filled with worries over the war and Zelgius himself. Of course, it was the time to celebrate a nice tradition and forget about the war temporarily - but yet, you couldn’t help but feel that feeling of worry tugging against you against.

It was just like that feeling when you first arrived here. Gods, you were starting to feel the anxiety pull against you again with all of these responsibilities being thrown against you into such a sudden situation again, and-

Smack!

“Ow!”

You rubbed your cheek lightly, for that hit against your face was hard. You were slightly annoyed at the sudden projectile that was thrown directly at your face - turning around immediately to see the perpetrator, you saw Takumi there with his mochis as Fjorm and Azura tried to suppress their giggles.

Stomping to their side while continuing to rub your poor cheek, you asked: “Hey! What gives?” as they grinned and snickered, eventually evolving into full-blown laughs at your expense. Frowning, you asked again: “Why did you do that, Takumi?! That hurt!”

Hearing your annoyed tone, Takumi hushed his laughter down. “Oh, sorry - I probably threw that a bit too hard,” he apologized genuinely as he scratched his chin. But then he shook his head, and looked at you in the eyes. “You always seem so deep in thought, [Name]. Shouldn’t you… lighten up a bit?”

Lighten up a bit?

“Ah-?”

Were you the one who needed to lighten up a bit as well?

Azura laughed again at your stumped expression. “There you go again, [Name]. Always so lost in your own thoughts,” her laugh was like bells, “I understand the war is tough and it feels like we ever hardly get a break.” As the songstress ended her sentence, Fjorm walked up to you and took hold of your hand and held it between her two hands. “Why don’t you relax a little bit with us? You hardly to ever seem to catch a break… and throwing mochi is fun, isn’t it, Prince Takumi?”

The Hoshidan Prince let out a quiet “sheesh”, but smiled nonetheless. “It is nice to get out of my princely attitudes once in a while, yes,” There was a shyness in his face for he was embarrassed for not acting like the supposed Prince of Hoshido that he was - but it soon went away as quickly as it appeared. “But hey, since it’s my time off here, why not have fun? And you can throw this time, [Name] - since I obviously throw too hard.”

You let out a small bark of laugh, looking slightly nervous to be shirking your patrolling duties. “I mean, I…”

“Just for a while?” Fjorm urged, her smile infectious as you bit down your own grin that bubbled up on your lips.

And then a wicked idea came past your mind as flashes of a certain general suddenly appeared in your vision…

“I’m in.”

It was a lot more fun than you expected it to be.

Snickering around the castle with the trio as you stayed hidden away from most heroes’ vision, you relished in their surprised reactions when a small treat was thrown at them (Gaius immediately took notice of you all, and joined in to snack and throw mochi at people as well) - it was funny to see them so bewildered and stunned to where it came from (and you imagined that was how you looked before you noticed Takumi was the culprit of it all, and thought fondly of it as well).As you continued to hunt around the castle for your next victims, your eyes shone brightly when you saw Zelgius wandering around the gardens by himself. “Guys, that’s him! I’ve been trying to find him for ages now!” You smiled at your friends, as they returned your smile with their own grins. “What’s the plan, Summoner?” Gaius inquired as he chewed on another mochi, with Takumi slapping his hand away from his stash and grumbling quietly when the thief smirked to himself. You sighed in exasperation, but you couldn’t remove the grin off your face.

“Okay, here’s the plan…”

Bonk.

Zelgius looked down to see a mochi on the floor.

What in the heavens is going on?

As he leaned down to pick up the offending object, he felt another small bonk against his armor once again. Turning around sharply to see what it was, it was another mochi that seemed to have been thrown from nowhere.

“Wha-”

Then another one against his leg.

Zelgius turned his head up sharply when he heard the shuffling of a tree nearby him, coming up to inspect it immediately. Who was playing this game with him? Was it an enemy wanting to trick him, perhaps? As he approached the tree, he let out a small “oof” as one hit him square against his head.Were… were there multiple enemies who wished to play around with him?

“Damn, then I have to warn the Summoner…!” Zelgius said under his breath, but then had another piece of mochi thrown at him on his cheek. As he heard the snicker of someone in another tree, he immediately started to head towards it.

Suddenly, you felt yourself become cold. 

He was heading towards you.

As you looked around at the other trees, the 4 others become dead silent and motioned you not to move, when-

Zelgius started to shake your tree violently. You started to become unbalanced on the tree branches, letting sounds of “woah, woah, woah!” as you clung onto the tree desperately for leverage - the general was cursing you under his breath, not knowing that you were the perpetrator of this all: “How dare you, you assassin, to come here and ought to mock me like this-!”

You lost grip of the branch as you tried holding onto the mochi as well, and took a tumble off when the shaking became harder-

“Ah!”

“[Name]?!”

You fell unceremoniously off the tree with all your mochis falling off from your grasp, closing your eyes as you expected to hit the floor.

But the impact never came, as you felt yourself being pulled flush against Zelgius entirely. As he looked at you wide-eyed, you mirrored his look for a brief moment until…

“Hehe… surprise?”

You felt Zelgius relax significantly as his shoulders lost their tension and he let out a large sigh. “Are you alright, [Name]? I’m glad to see you not at harm.”Now realizing that he was just worried for you, you suddenly felt a little guilty. “I-I’m fine, thanks to you…” 

He nodded in relief as he set you down, then suddenly became red at what he just did. He just held you into his arms. As he became nervous under your stare, Zelgius didn’t seem to know what to say anymore when he folded his arms stiffly against himself - meanwhile, you felt guilty for placing him under such a situation because you thought he could have fun, but… he looked so stressed.

“I-”

“Wh-”

You both started to talk, but then immediately shut up after you cut each other out. “No please, Zelgius - go first!” You urged, but then he replies back: “No, it’s fine. You should have the first say…” And then both of you went silent again.You sighed again for what was the nth time that day.

“Look… I’m sorry, Zelgius. I’m sorry for scaring and teasing you like that, by throwing all of those mochis…” You scratched the back of your head, looking down sheepishly. “It’s just… I don’t know if you’re happy here.”

Zelgius felt himself inhaling sharply.

“You always look so downcast and I… I don’t know what to do. I just want you to know that I’m here for you and we’re all accepting of people… and that includes you too! I just…” you trailed off, finding the words hard to convey at the moment.

“… I just want you to be happy.”

Immediately, he spoke up as he took a step towards you and held onto your hand gently.

“Is this why you threw mochi at me? To make me… feel happy?”

You laughed awkwardly. “I mean… when you put it that way…”

There was a moment of silence between you two, as the guilt started to seep into you even more as the silence prolonged further; you were ready to start leaving, for you knew everything you did was ridiculous anyway, why did you even decide to do this-

“… I am happy here.”

You snapped out of your train of thoughts and looked up to him with genuine surprise.

There was a flush in Zelgius’ face again, this time darker under your shocked look. “It’s… hard to convey my emotions. I’ve repressed them for so long now it’s… become something I do.” He looked away from your eyes out of shyness, but continued: “But I am… so much happier to be here.”

And it took him all his willpower to look into your glistening, shining eyes again.

“And I seem… to be the happiest when I’m around you.”

Suddenly, he felt your arms come up to wrap around his neck when you jumped up, with him immediately catching you and pulling your hips flush against him as a gut-instinct - there was pure joy radiating off your laughter as you looked at him as Zelgius twirled you around the gardens out of surprise.

And there it finally was - the smile you had been looking from him for these many months.

“You’re… you’re smiling!” You exclaimed as he spun you around happily. “I’m… I’m so glad!” You laughed even more as you pulled him into a closer hug, both of you now laughing until the dizziness started to overcome you.

As he placed you down, Zelgius questioned your dizzy self with a smaller smile on his face this time: “Smiled? You wished to see me smile all this time?”

“Uh…” Now you were the one to feel shy. “Y-yes…”

He thought of all the times he smiled when around you as you stood there, shy in front of him - he smiled when he was in his bedroom the first night he stayed in Askr after your warm hospitality, he smiled when you were so childishly excited about all the candy you were gonna give out as you rambled on animatedly, he smiled when he saw you apologizing profusely for such a minor problem...

Had you never realize?

“I suppose I should smile more for you often, I take it?”

You flushed, and nudged his arm lightly. “When you’re happy, of course.”

“I always am, now that I’m with you.”

[rosalind-25]

Hi again

Lovely to see this happen each year! Here’s my contribution, a short pre-series fic.

The Maid and the Falcon

Relentless drizzle, seeping beneath his cape, soured Guy’s mood a notch further with each mile that passed. It was, he supposed, an improvement on the week before, when snow and black ice had caused the falconer’s horse to slip. The man had been laid up, his leg broken, waiting to send for help. He was fortunate, Guy knew, to have a relative within a day’s ride; Vaisey would have refused his expenses. Guy had continued, transporting the sheriff’s valued cargo back to Nottingham.

The bamboo cage bumped awkwardly against the horse’s flank, in time with its slow gait. Guy glanced down, could see only sodden tail feathers peeking out from beneath the cage’s cover. He quelled a flash of pity, reckoning the bird probably fared better than he did at that precise moment. But then he recalled the falcon’s stitched eyelids, and resolutely turned his thoughts away.

As drizzle became downpour, the rising wind clutched indiscriminately at hair, mane, cape, branches; head bowed, Guy hunkered down against it as they plodded forward, only his bitter thoughts and the temporarily blind falcon for company. Nursemaid to a bird. How far I’ve come. Chained, as always, by his lord’s whims.

This latest had been brought about by the debacle a year earlier. Not content with his goshawk – perfect for forest terrain – the sheriff had craved a long-winged falcon. A gift for the prince of course, dear boy. I’ll just borrow it for a while. He’d sent his falconer to Valkenswaard, there to haggle at the autumn market, amongst other lords’ representatives, for one of those prized birds. The project had ended in disaster; the bird hadn’t survived the return from the continent. The falconer had been foolish enough to try and pass off an inferior specimen; Vaisey had thought it fitting punishment to cage the man on the castle battlements and paste his eyes with honey.

This time, Vaisey had tried something different. He’d sent a man to Ramsey Island, off the coast of Wales, there to trap a young falcon. But, being late in the season, it had taken weeks; since then, the bird had been manned, but it’s training to fly and hunt postponed. Vaisey had wanted the bird’s eyes sealed until he took possession; he liked to tweak the silken thread attached to the stitches.

Guy had been sent to meet the pair, and to escort them safely home. With the Christmas hunt little more than a fortnight away, to which many local nobles had been invited, there could be no more delays.

And yet. The road had become a quagmire. Guy halted his mount, casting about for a landmark. He realised that with such poor visibility he must have taken a wrong turn. It couldn’t be too far to Nottingham, but this cursed road seemed wholly unfamiliar.

Everywhere branches flailed; wind funnelled debris through gaps in the trees, pelting him and his mount with twigs. As he looked around, Guy heard a loud crack. A branch, splitting from the trunk; it crashed down mere paces away. It spooked his horse, and Guy barely had the animal calmed when he saw that the cover had been knocked from the cage. The bird was threshing about, drenched and distressed. Cursing, his own cape dislodged by now, Guy was struggling to re-cover the cage when a figure appeared, speaking quietly and calmly to the falcon, securing the other end of the cover which was flapping violently, its edges tugged by the wind.

When it was done, the young woman leaned in and spoke, placing a hand on his arm.

“This way,” she said loudly, pointing. “Follow me.”

​​​---------------------------------------------------------------------

“My lord Gisborne. Come in.” The maid’s father, his mouth set in a terse line.

“No, I think not.” Guy stood on the threshold beneath the drip-line from the thatch and saw that preparations were underway for a modest feast. “This bird needs quiet. But I’ll need a change of clothes, and a blanket for my horse.”

He had the girl show him to the village barn. It was draughty and cold but preferable to the stilted welcome in the cottage. He’d rubbed down and covered his horse, changed his clothes and made a small fire. Guy sat staring into it now, chewing on pieces of dried apple and listening to the wind thrash outside. It made him slow to register the sound of a knock. He rose and lifted the bar, admitting the maid who now bore a tray with two covered bowls and assorted nuts and fruit. She placed it near the fire, then went to collect firewood from outside the door.

“Fancy fare for common folk,” he remarked round a mouthful of beef and bacon stew, as she knelt by the fire.

He felt it poor return to ask outright how the household came by its meat, but she was no fool.

“Sir William gives us our Christmas fare early. He knows I work at the castle, and that I won’t be here for Christmas.”

“You work at the castle?” Guy quirked an eyebrow, vaguely interested. “Where?”

“In the kitchens.”

He was about to ask her name when he was diverted by the attention she now fixed on the bird.

“You should have him out, you know,” she said. “Have him on your wrist, or your shoulder. They need to become accustomed to people.”

“What would you know about it?” he sneered.

“Quite a lot, actually. My uncle is a trained falconer, I grew up with tales of birds and hearing about his techniques.”

Guy watched as she rose and walked to the cage, his mouth too full to protest as she undid the latch and lifted out the bird.

“Barbaric,” he heard her mutter. Then, to him:

“Why are his eyes still sealed? Surely, he’s ready to be trained.”

“Yes,” Guy muttered. Truth be told, he was as discomfited as she was by the cruel practice. “Vaisey insisted.”

“He is…..” the maid paused, tilting her head, a thoughtful look on her face. “Your master is….not a kind man.”

Guy spluttered on the home-brewed ale. When he recovered, he saw the girl smiling slightly; he smirked a little in return.

“No. That’s not how I would describe him either.”

Wearing a conspiratorial expression, she perched near him, bearing the raptor on her wrist with an air of calm assurance.

“There is another way, you know. If you were to help me, we could….”

“No.” Blunt, uncompromising. “Vaisey wants them sealed.”

The girl’s expression remained soft, undaunted by his dismissal. He assumed she was waiting so she could take the tray away. He ate the last mouthfuls of stew, mopping up the juices with a hunk of rye bread. The maid, her fine-spun hair gathered in a loose plait, and a gentle innocence about her features, was silent and pensive.

But when she looked over at him, he saw there was a hint of determination beneath her softness.

“You are not naturally a cruel man, Sir Guy. I see that. I know what you do for the sheriff but you do it for his sake, not for having any pleasure of it.” He began to snap a retort, affronted at her plain speaking, but the girl so surprised him by again laying a hand on his arm that he let her finish. “I see that this troubles you, so let me fix it. With your permission, my father and I can open the bird’s eyes and yet give Lord Vaisey a sop, let him think that he’s discovered something no one else has.”

Guy frowned.

“Go on,” he allowed, against his better judgement.

The maid glanced away, suddenly appearing uncertain. Instead of offering an explanation, she turned back to him with a question.

“Why are you travelling with this bird? Has the sheriff lost another falconer?”

“Temporarily. He broke a leg falling from his horse.”

“Ahh,” she sighed. “Well, I may tell you. I didn’t want the risk of any more of my kin being asked to work for Lord Vaisey.”

Guy growled a caution. “You speak too freely.”

“Perhaps. But listen….there’s another way to keep a bird of prey calm. Word reached my uncle when his lord’s son returned from Crusade. It’s a method the Saracens use.” The girl rose. “I’ll show you, I have one in the cottage. We were discussing it last time we saw my uncle and have been experimenting since.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll show you,” she repeated, slipping out of the barn.

When the maid returned, it was with her father in tow. She showed Guy a small hood which she explained was designed to fit over the bird’s head.

He watched, then, as she placed drops of something which discoloured the water into the bird’s shallow bowl.

“By this evening he should be calm enough. My father will remove the stitches, he has a steady hand.”

The pair returned at nightfall, bearing additional lanterns.

“You stay out of sight; you don’t want the bird to associate you with this,” instructed the father, so focussed on the task at hand that he temporarily forgot whom he was addressing.

Bemused, Guy moved to the back of the barn, allowing them to tend the falcon. He couldn’t see what they were doing, but more than once he heard a high, thin screech of protest. Finally, he was called forward, and saw that the hooded raptor was now sitting calmly on a makeshift perch.

“Right, if Sir Guy has no more need of our help…..”

“I’ll stay awhile,” the young woman said, glancing back at Guy.

“No, go. Have your celebration,” he said gruffly, weary now of company and wishing only for sleep.

But there was none to be had. The falcon’s early calm wore off. The hood was loose-fitting; the bird scraped at it with its talons and tore it off. After the rigours of the day, the creature was stressed; it bated, flapping its wings as it hung tethered to the perch. Each time Guy managed to replace the hood, but after the third such episode he was ready to wring its wretched neck.

He was relieved when, a short while later, the maid returned to check on them. Once she saw the problem, she took the hood away to adjust. When she returned, together they secured it over the falcon’s head.

“Let’s get the damn thing back in the cage.” Guy’s store of patience had long since evaporated.

“Soon. Let’s feed her first.”

Guy rummaged for the remains of a hare he’d snared early that morning, and they fed these to the now-sedate falcon. Then came the process of settling the bird back in its cage. By the time this was done, the fire needed tending; his companion helped with this too. Her presence was quiet, undemanding; her smile sweet.

Her father came eventually to the door.

“Annie, time to come inside lass,” he said, still stubbornly protective, although his tone had mellowed somewhat towards Guy.

Once they’d gone Guy bedded down in the straw. He found himself thinking, amongst other things, of the scent of rain in the girl’s hair, and of the way her lashes, wet from that same rain, had slanted down upon her cheek.

Annie. Perhaps she could be of help in the weeks to come. Guy had no doubt that, in the falconer’s absence, the onerous task of readying the bird to hunt would fall to him.

​​​----------------------------------------------------------------------

Guy waved the flagon-bearer away and gazed with jaded eye around the hall. Trenchers were full of half-eaten fare. Servants were beginning to clear space for presentation of the boar’s head, bearing away the various pies, pastries, stews and sauced meats which had cluttered the long tables. He would stay until then, Guy decided, before returning to all the tasks which had been set aside for the day’s festivities.

Mopping up the last of a dark, wine-currant sauce, Guy watched as the showpiece was paraded in. Accompanied by musicians and a capering jester it was borne about the hall on its bed of apples and cherry sprigs, with cherries for eyes and a fanciful forelock of grapes. Applause rippled around the tables; from snout to ear-tip, the flesh was crisped and brown and gave off an aroma that made mouths water. Guy hid a sneer; gluttony was never his vice. As the master cook preened beneath Vaisey’s rare praise, and as servants bore in fresh accompanying dishes and his neighbour exclaimed over the fine tastes awaiting them, Guy muttered some unintelligible reply, pushed back his chair, and left the feast.

The day thus far had been tolerable. Although Christmas was never anything special, Vaisey in a benign mood was always preferable to whining or the mercurial malice which a day that hadn’t gone according to plan could produce.

The morning’s hunt, for one thing, had been successful; the new falcon had performed well. Guy knew Annie was largely to thank. The falconer had returned only three days earlier. As he’d suspected, this had left Guy with the bulk of the bird’s training. In doing so, he’d more than once sought out Annie; drawing on snippets of her uncle’s wisdom, she’d always been willing to help.

There were more important things to be done - he was on his way to check how much the quarter tax had brought in (Vaisey had to pay, somehow, for his entertainments) – but Guy found himself thinking of the mews. Perhaps he would check on the bird later. Then he remembered that he had to pay an evening visit to….

….what was that?

A small sound; a clatter, something dislodged.

Guy paused. He was near the sheriff’s chambers, and it occurred to him that for anyone with ill intent this was the perfect time to gain entry. Whoever it was would have heard him pass; stealth hadn’t been on his mind. It was now; he unbuckled his spurs, set them aside and walked back, silently pushing the door open.

Vaisey would have spotted the culprit in an instant; after, that is, he’d registered the open door of one of the bird cages, its inhabitants fluttering past to escape into the corridor. He’d interrupted a similar operation on another cage; Guy strode forward and flung aside the dressing screen.

“You!” he exclaimed, grabbing the culprit’s wrist and hauling her to her feet.

Annie lost her balance, clutching at him for support. He glanced down, noting with a smirk where her grip had landed. Annie snatched her hand away from his thigh, her cheeks blooming with colour.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, steadying the maid on her feet. “Have you lost your mind?”

“They were talking about these poor birds a few days ago, in the kitchens. I decided then, it being Christmas, that it would be the perfect time to do something about it.” She spoke boldly; Guy admired her lack of repentance.

“Annie,” he said harshly, “there is never a perfect time to defy the sheriff….”

“…I don’t see why….”

Guy cut her off.

“What did you think would happen, when he finds them missing?” he asked, shaking his head, touching her chin with a gloved fingertip. “He will hunt for the culprit. And if he can’t discover who it was, he won’t care, he’ll punish someone anyway…probably his squire. Did you think of that? Would you want that?”

Annie dropped her gaze. He had to bend down slightly to catch her next words.

“I hate it. I hate what he does to them. What he does to all of us.”

Guy let the last comment pass. For the first part, he had some answer.

“You realise he will just go out and replace them? That he’ll find some other creatures to make miserable?”

“Yes.” Annie lifted her head, some of her defiance returning. “But at least I will have done – have done – something.”

Guy gazed at her a moment, pitying the futility behind her brave words. He knew that futility right down to his bones; had supped on its bitterness, in moments of quiet despair. There were times – oh yes, there were times – when he wanted to do the same. But always, he must hold. Always there were shackles, his own ambition and his desire for revenge the clasps with which Vaisey had snapped them shut.

There was no escape; Annie was right about that. And yet…they had unsealed the falcon’s eyes and got away with it. Could they do it again?

They were both silent, the frantic noise of the birds who’d seen their fellows fly free chattering in the background. Guy thought hard; he came to a decision.

“I’ll take care of it. But you must leave, now.”

“No! You’re not to take the blame for this,” she protested, as he walked across to the empty cage.

“Be quiet, woman.”

Guy knocked the stand down on which it stood and kicked at the clasp with his heel.

“What are you doing?” Annie demanded, grasping his arm.

He glanced down, wondering the same thing. But he had a plan; he (mostly) had it all worked out.

“I’ll tell the sheriff that cook planned a surprise, a version of lark pie using Vaisey’s own birds. That I surprised the lad he sent in the act, and in the scuffle his birds escaped.”

Would such a ruse succeed? Guy thought so. A bribe to the cook to go along with it, if questioned, though he doubted Vaisey would punish attempted flattery - no matter how misguided. I’ve punished the lad, my Lord; you’ve no need to worry. Would he get away with it? Without doubt, it was a risk.

Annie still held both his arm and his gaze. The gratitude in her eyes warmed him, as did her smile. Oddly, it reminded him a little of how Christmas had once made him feel, a very long time ago.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Guy raised a hand and stroked her cheek.

“We’d better not make a habit of this,” he chided. “There’s only so much we can get away with.”

A pause, then; a thought. Another decision.

“But there may be other ways in which he doesn’t need to own us.”

He lowered his face to hers; his lips grazed her forehead, and her cheek. Her lips. Then, abruptly, he withdrew.

“It’s time to leave,” he repeated.

Guy stalked out of Vaisey’s room and reattached his spurs; Annie watched, her gaze perplexed. She watched him rise and walk away.

At the end of the corridor, however, Guy turned back.

“Well?” he challenged, his voice a deep lure. “Are you coming?”

​​​-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Annie watched him walk away, leaving her in a welter of confusion.

“Well? Are you coming?”

She had seconds to decide, she knew. An offer that wouldn’t be repeated. Annie thought of that moment when she’d lost her balance and knew very well what thought had been on both their minds.

He turned, disappearing around the corner.

He’s the sheriff’s lieutenant, and what am I? A mere kitchen maid.

But Annie knew she had a penchant for wild things; she knew this about herself. Creatures proud and fierce, untameable, ones that came into your life for a time and didn’t necessarily stay there.

And yet, while they were there……ah yes, while they were there…..

Annie also knew how precious their trust, once it was gained.

She stepped out of the sheriff’s chambers and followed Guy of Gisborne, her heart and nerves a-flutter, just like the wings of those desperate, captive birds which they had just set free into a Christmas twilight.

[crimethinc]

The Yellow Vest Movement: Showdown with the State–Reports from the Clashes in Paris, around France, and across Europe

Since November, France has been shaken by the yellow vest movement, a grassroots reaction to President Macron’s proposal to increase fuel taxes in order to force the poor to pay for the transition to “ecological” technologies. Like the Occupy movement, the yellow vest movement cohered around shared tactics and frustration rather than common goals or values; consequently, the movement has been a battleground for many different political agendas and factions. The far right initially took advantage of the movement’s “apolitical” character to gain influence, especially online; but as the movement spread and the clashes with the police intensified, anarchists and other uncontrollable rebels also staked out ground within the movement.

Paris, December 8.

Although divided as to how to relate to the movement, anarchists and other autonomous rebels chose to get involved in order to confront fascist and authoritarian tendencies from within, attack the representatives of capitalism and the state, and try to reorient the movement towards more systemic solutions. These efforts bore some fruit: fascists have been driven out of demonstrations; anti-capitalist and anti-fascist blocs have marched together in Paris; new connections have arisen between anarchists, autonomists, and other yellow vesters, not to mention rail workers, students, and those who live on the margins of the metropolis; symbols of capitalism and the state have been attacked with increasing frequency; slogans from the protests against the Loi Travail and other radical movements have spread to other groups of demonstrators. Yet the outcome of the yellow vest movement might still benefit any number of different groups, including the far right.

Macron’s government has repeatedly attempted to establish dialogue with the spokespersons of the yellow vests. All these attempts have failed. The majority of the movement has refused any negotiation with officials and seems to reject the political system as a whole—this is the secret of its success compelling Macron to promise concessions. At the same time, the movement is not beyond the reach of politicians. Leftist populists and far-right nationalists stand to benefit considerably from the crisis it has created.

The tension is still mounting in France. For the second week, students are blockading schools and universities to protest against education reforms; meanwhile, trade unions joined the yellow vest movement last weekend, as did other economic sectors. The government is desperately seeking a way to resolve the situation as the Christmas holidays approach. Hoping to avoid a fifth act in the conflict, on December 10, President Macron promised to grant many of the demands of the movement. Yet the story isn’t over. Another day of action has been called for Saturday, December 15.

There have been copycat actions on three continents now, but it does not appear that the yellow vest movement is about to spread worldwide. France has been somewhat out of step with the rhythms of the rest of the world—a wave of riots broke out in France in 2005, years ahead of the Greek insurrection of 2008, but nothing like the Occupy movement occurred there until Nuit Debout in 2016. Still, the yellow vest movement may offer us some hints as to what the next global wave of protest will look like. Perhaps, we can anticipate another wave of movements catalyzed by economic desperation, involving a wide range of participants and ideologies.

In order to explore these issues in greater detail, we present the following update from France. The work of many hands, this report picks up where our previous analysis left off, in the aftermath of the chaotic and insurrectionary nationwide day of action on December 1.

Paris, December 8.

The Aftermath of December 1

The confrontations that took place in Paris and elsewhere around the country on December 1 were arguably the most significant rioting in France since 1968. The intensity caught the government off guard. President Macron rushed back from the G20 summit in Argentina to assess the damage and try to reassert order.

Hoping to neutralize the movement, Macron promised to grant some of the movement’s demands. This didn’t placate the majority of protesters, who reaffirmed their determination to demonstrate on Saturday, December 8.

Within the yellow vest movement, opinions differed about this new day of action. The images of chaos from the previous weekend were still in everybody’s minds; pacifists and legalists argued fiercely with the more radical yellow vesters. Organizers debated different strategies. Some wanted to march towards the presidential palace; some suggested blocking the périphérique (the Parisian beltway); some proposed that people should gather in front of the Maison de la Radio (the major radio station building) in order to occupy it and seize control of the airwaves; others argued against going to Paris, seeing it as a trap set by authorities, in favor of developing local initiatives instead. As December 8 approached, it was impossible to tell how it would play out.

On Tuesday, December 4, the first trials took place for charges arising from the yellow vest demonstrations of Saturday, December 1. Three people were tried on charges included participation “in a gathering, even if temporarily formed, with the objective— characterized by one of several material facts—of preparing and committing wilful violence against persons or destructions or property damages” and “intentional violence on a PDAP” (Person in Charge of Public Authority). The first individual received a €200-fine suspended sentence for violence; the second was sentenced to three months in prison and held in detention; the third was sentenced to a year in prison. This also set the stakes for December 8.

On another front, the student strike against school reforms intensified. All week, students blocked their high schools and universities, held general assemblies, built barricades, demonstrated in the streets, and confronted police. Not wishing to fight on multiple fronts at once, the government responded aggressively, with police injuring numerous students. The violent attacks on high school students—usually barely mentioned in corporate media—gained wide exposure with a viral video posted on Thursday, December 6 showing the conditions in which students were arrested at Mantes-la-Jolie. Dozens of students are lined up on their knees with their hands on their heads, some of them facing the wall, surrounded by riot police officers. The person shooting the video remarks, ”Here is a quiet and well-behave class!”

The propagation of these images couldn’t have come at a worse time for the French government. On the eve of the fourth act of the yellow vest movement, the video intensified the general climate of rage and defiance towards the police and government.

Clashes in Paris on December 8. The flag is the national flag of Brittany, a French region with separatist tendencies. As with so many other aspects of the yellow vest movement, it could represent far-right politics, or it could simply suggest an “apolitical” patriotism.

Paris under Siege

Fearing that scenes of chaos and “extreme violence” would recur in Paris on December 8, the authorities took drastic preventive measures. For the weekend, Paris would be in a state of siege.

Eighteen museums and eight national monuments remained closed for the day, including the Eiffel tower and Notre Dame Cathedral. Both Parisian Operas cancelled their performances, as did other theaters. The Paris prefecture asked the storekeepers of the Champs Elysées, the Matignon, the Montaigne, and the Franklin-Roosevelt avenues to close their stores and board up their windows. The major fancy department store groups Galeries Lafayette and Printemps decided to close all their stores located near the Champs Elysées, the Opera, Montparnasse, or Nation.

From 6 am until the end of the demonstrations, a traffic restriction plan would be enforced in order to facilitate the movements of law enforcement. In addition, 36 metro and RER stations would be closed starting 5:30 am in order to facilitate police controls. The restriction affected about 56 bus lines. Several sports events and television shows were also cancelled, postponed, or relocated.

Police from the BAC (Anti-Criminality Brigades) in Paris on December 8.

The Government Adjusts Its Strategy

After the previous week’s fiasco, President Macron instructed Minister of the Interior Christophe Castaner to review his law enforcement strategy in preparation for the fourth act of the yellow vest movement. According to the Minister of the Interior, “the last three weeks have given birth to a monster that has escaped its genitors.”

For December 8, the authorities took exceptional measures. Fully 89,000 police officers were to be deployed all over France—almost 100% of the troops—with 8000 in Paris alone. In addition, the state requisitioned 12 gendarmerie tanks, the same ones that participated in the eviction of the ZAD last April and May. Mobile water cannons and helicopters were also deployed in Paris.

In contrast with the previous week, the police did not remain static, defending large restricted areas. This time, the only restricted area was designated around the Champs Elysées and the major government buildings. There, police forces were tasked with searching and controlling every single person who sought to enter the avenue.

Having been criticized for failing to keep up with events on December 1, police received orders to stick close to protestors, initiate frontal confrontations, and carry out arrests at any opportunity. As the traditional riot police forces (CRS and gendarmes) move slowly on account of their heavy equipment, these tasks were given to the BAC (Anti-Criminality Brigades), the CSI (Securing and Intervention Companies), and other police units.

The authorities also set up roadblocks around Paris in order to control vehicles entering the capital city. Several prefectures temporally banned the sale and transport of fuel, pyrotechnical materials, and flammable products in order to prevent people from constructing homemade incendiary devices.

In the days leading up to the demonstration, the government ramped up psychological pressure by making several appeals for “non-violence” and demanding that “reasonable yellow vesters, those who do not support violent action, dissociate themselves from extremists and not gather in Paris,” hoping to isolate the most determined parts of the movement. At the same time, with the assistance of media outlets, the authorities tried to spread fear among the population by asking everyone to stay home on Saturday, sending clear warnings to anyone who might join one of the Parisian demonstrations.

The trap was set for Paris. Still, the authorities were expecting only several thousand people in Paris, including some “ultra-violent” individuals.

Several hours before the demonstrations, an important official and confidential document leaked. The entire law enforcement plan of the Paris prefecture was available online. This document made it easier to understand what to expect in the streets for the following day: 85 police teams were mobilized to control and search individuals in train and metro stations; mounted police were to be present in the streets again; and so on. The authorities have since opened an investigation to find the origin of the leak.

On the eve of the fourth act of the yellow vest movement, some comrades published an article on “the rupture in progress,” arguing:

“We can’t be sure that this Saturday, the plan decided by the Interior Minister will not be more insidious, avoiding frontal conflicts in favor of targeted arrests—in the German manner, as it were—in order to contain the tension to the point of breathlessness.”

The events of December 8 confirmed this forecast.

Paris, December 8.

Staying outside the Trap

It would be impossible to detail all the events that took place in the streets of Paris. Here, we draw on narratives from several anarchists and autonomous rebels, complemented by information from corporate media and other sources.

A map showing the clashes of December 8 in Paris.

Report #1

This first report was jointly composed by several individuals covering different zones of activity.

Early in the morning, groups gathered in various areas of Paris: at Place de l’Etoile, Bastille, Porte Maillot, and République. Corporate media outlets were already broadcasting their litanies: the situation was under control, authorities were already arresting dangerous individuals, the number of arrests was increasing minute by minute. At 10:30 am, the authorities announced that they had already arrested 354 individuals, keeping 127 in custody. Soon, they launched the first tear gas canisters at the Champs Elysées, where about 1500 people had already assembled. By 11 am, the gathering near the Saint-Lazare train station was blocked and surrounded by CRS (riot police). For this reason, we decided not to enter the police perimeter, so that we might stay in control of the situation.

At 11:30 am, near the Opera, we met a group of about 1000 people. The whole district was blocked by police forces and checkpoints. You could easily enter the perimeter, but to exit it you would have to comply by presenting an ID and letting them search your bag. Police forces had a “wanted list” in their possession in order to arrest potential troublemarkers. Two tanks were spotted near the Haussmann Boulevard. Because the police seemed to be in control of the situation in this district, we decided to move towards the Champs Elysées. Several police troops were already deployed near Avenue de Friedland—to protect access to the Place de la Concorde—and Saint-Augustin square. That morning, we were a sparse crowd of several thousand individuals walking through a dead city, with about 90% of the windows around us boarded up.

At 11:30 am, near the Champs Elysées, thousands of people were converging to enter the avenue. Up to that point, every single demonstrator had been meticulously searched by members of the BAC (the Anti-Criminality Brigade) before entering the demonstration zone. But the gentle pressure created by the arrival of waves of demonstrators trying to enter the Champs Elysées eventually enabled people to break through one of the checkpoints and people succeeded in entering without being searched. When we entered the avenue, there were already a lot of people there.

Radical far-right groups were also present. The atmosphere was quite surreal with the entire avenue barricaded and protected. Ridiculous groups of BAC members could be seen at regular intervals on the sidewalks wearing ski masks and swimming goggles and carrying LBD-40 weapons. Further away, near the Place de l’Etoile, police forces launched a charge involving a lot of grenades in order to contain the crowd within the designated perimeter, out of reach of the Arc de Triomphe that had been ravaged the previous week. Once again, the outcome of the situation at the Champs Elysées was a forgone conclusion. We decided to leave and entered the Saint-Philippe du Roule district. There, a lot of yellow-vested groups were trying to figure out where interesting events were happening, just as we were. Little by little, the crowd gathered near Haussamnn Boulevard and Avenue de Friedland.

From 12:30 pm until 2:30 pm, while police lines were still blocking access to the Arc de Triomphe, the first serious confrontations started. As soon as we arrived on site, we saw a man shot in the thigh with a rubber bullet. We provided first aid, then wished him good luck and continued our way. For more than an hour, several thousand individuals confronted CRS forces, consecutively resisting charges and tear gas. Some comrades drove out members of Action Française, a monarchist and far-right group, then chanted “Paris, Paris, Antifa!” The confrontations on Avenue de Friedland continued and the first burning barricades appeared. The police charges were unusually violent; we couldn’t count the number of tear gas canisters and flash-bang grenades they used during the confrontations. Several stores and a bank were attacked, but surprisingly, the nearby Chamber of Commerce and Industry of Paris remained almost intact, despite part of the demonstration remaining static in front of the building for some time.

Police blocking access to the Arc de Triomphe on December 8.

As we were losing ground, the crowd decided to leave this point and marched towards the Saint-Augustin area. There, a Mercedes was set on fire; people erected barricades using the wooden planks that protected stores’ front windows and set them on fire; a luxurious handbag store was looted. As property destruction intensified, police forces tried to surround protestors with three tanks at the intersection between Avenue de Friedland and Courcelles Street. They employed copious amounts of tear gas, but the majority of demonstrators succeeded in exiting the trap. Then the crowd split; some went towards Monceau Park, where a diplomatic car was set on fire, while others departed for Haussmann boulevard, where people erected massive barricades and welcomed police trucks with rains of projectiles.

Around 3 pm, as the police presence was increasing in the area—police tanks and trucks were going towards Avenue de Friedland and several BAC groups were patrolling the streets—several groups of protestors agreed on leaving the zone. About 2000 individuals took Capucines Boulevard, with more demonstrators joining in the course of their advance. Tired of trying to get closer to the Champs Elysées, several groups decided to move towards the Climate March that was supposed to leave the Place de la Nation at 2 pm in order to reach République.

The situation in Paris was no longer a regular demonstration. There were too many people everywhere in the streets; all the stores were closed on most shopping avenues. This was significant on a Saturday before Christmas.

Yellow vests and tear gas in Paris on December 8.

Around 4 pm, groups of yellow vesters were arriving at the République square. Gendarmes and CRS were already present in every major street surrounding the square. Their strategy brought back memories of the Loi Travail and Nuit Debout protests in 2016. The Climate March had already arrived, and the atmosphere was mostly festive. Everyone agreed that the demands of the yellow vest and environmental movements were not opposed, and that the divide-and-conquer strategy of the authorities and media would not work. The crowd was heterogeneous but far from being offensive. Therefore, we decided to leave the square, only to discover that individuals wearing yellow vests were not allowed to do so. The atmosphere grew tense, but no one was ready to charge police lines yet.

Further away, in the Saint-Lazare district, while police backups were becoming more visible, a march several thousand strong took the large boulevards connecting Opéra to République. Property destruction became automatic and looting frequent. Every window of every fashion store, bank, fast-food restaurant, and similar target was attacked. Several tags also appeared on the walls; the atmosphere in the march was clearly anti-capitalist. The march stopped near Strasbourg Saint-Denis in order to build a large barricade blocking the entire width of the boulevard. The latter was set on fire and more demonstrators joined the festivities.

Around 5 pm, some of us decided to go back to Haussmann Boulevard to see what was going on there, but then we heard that a wildcat demonstration was taking place near Grands Boulevards. Part of it took the direction of Châtelet-Les Halles (in the center of Paris) via the street Saint-Denis. Participants sang the International—a nice change from the Marseillaise (the French national anthem). A large part of the crowd chanted “Paris, debout, soulève-toi!” (“Paris, stand up, rise up!”) while the windows of banks continued to fall to the cheers of some demonstrators. At some point, a group of police officers arrived, creating a moment of panic within the procession. Barricades were set on fire in the nearby streets, while protestors threw stones at a police car in the street Quincampoix. The march tried several times to reach the City Hall of Paris, but without success, as police were blocking the streets. Finally, the crowd left the area by taking the small streets of the Marais district in order to reach the square République.

Around 7 pm, we arrived at République under a rain of tear gas canisters. The sport outlet store located near the square was attacked, but a police charge ended any hope of looting it. Then, a group left the square and started another wildcat demonstration. As soon as the procession took the street Faubourg du Temple, two police cars passing by were targeted with projectiles. A McDonald’s was also attacked. Further away, some barricades were built and trash bins set on fire. Near the Goncourt metro station, a huge flaming barricade paralyzed traffic and thick black smoke filled the streets. Little by little, the crowd dispersed.

Again, today was a great day!

Paris on December 8.

Report #2

In another personal account, the author presents a different analysis of the events of December 8. Due to the deployment of police in the Parisian streets and the massive wave of arrests that started earlier in the morning, the author experienced the first part of the day as confusing and something of a failure. The psychological warfare carried out by the government seemed to have succeeded, as several demonstrators who gathered at Saint-Lazare felt helpless and anxious before the powerful display of police forces—checkpoints, tanks, water cannons and trucks everywhere.

Moreover, it seemed to the author that the majority of the people present for the morning demonstration were inexperienced and didn’t know how to proceed. In the end, the demonstration didn’t happen, and people felt confused, defeated, and, for the most part, wandered around the streets of Paris seeking some sort of action that would finally bring some air within the oppressive trap of law enforcement.

Then, around 1 pm, the author explains that the situation changed. Indeed, most police forces had emptied out of the streets in the area—probably to deal with other groups of demonstrators closer to the Champs Elysées. Protestors seized this opportunity to initiate a wildcat demonstration, but unfortunately without any clear objectives as to where to go and what to do. The march seemed really unorganized; at some point, it was attacked by police with grenades before people decided to take another direction.

Near the Madeleine square, the crowd met some yellow vesters and rail workers who were coming from the Champs Elysées. The overall situation there was really difficult. In addition to the fierce and violent police repression, demonstrators had to deal with personal trauma and fatigue. Some yellow vesters said that they were exhausted and were hoping that others would take the helm.

Around 3 pm, people converged at the Saint-Augustin square. There, the crowd seemed much younger—probably including some high school students—and more determined. As more and more protestors assembled around the square, police shot the first tear gas canisters to disperse the crowd. Confrontations and property destruction continued until no one could bear the gas anymore.

Little by little, hours of humiliation and frustration, as well as consecutive police charges, generated an uncontrollable raging crowd. This angry mass started by destroying a Starbucks coffee shop. Then, the crowd split into several processions after a violent police charge. One procession took the direction of Châtelet and the City Hall. Everywhere, capitalist symbols were attacked and stores were looted. At this moment, it seemed that “everyone wanted to smash everything, the only thing that was preventing all of us from doing so was fear.”

Around 7 pm at République, as nobody seemed to want to leave the square, the first sporadic confrontations took place. Soon, police forces filled the entire square with tear gas and the crowd dispersed. Later on, around 11 pm, when the square was empty and calm had returned, small groups of militia-like policemen were patrolling the zone with ski masks and guns for firing rubber bullets at the ready.

A Starbucks Coffee Shop attacked in Paris on December 8. The graffiti reads “Pay your taxes!” and “Give back the bucks!” Starbucks is known in France for not paying taxes, while profiting on the French market.

Report #3

Some friends who were also present in the streets of Paris, contributed this short report on the events of December 8.

On Friday, December 7, the city of Paris was readying itself for the day of action called by the yellow vester movement for the next day. Undeniably, the riots and scenes of chaos of the previous week had left scars. From Opéra to République, all major stores and banks were covering their front windows with wooden planks. Would these precautions be enough to prevent damage?

On Saturday, December 8, we intended to go to the Saint-Lazare gathering at 10 am in order to evaluate the situation outside of the Champs Elysées. However, due to the deployment of police around the city and the news of the morning arrests, we decided to rethink our plans. In our opinion, there was no more point joining the morning gathering, especially when we knew that in order to do so we would have to be searched at the perimeter and then would probably end up being surrounded by police.

Afterwards, while we were discussing strategies and possible impasses and futures for the yellow vest movement, we received the news that some friends had been able to pass through police checkpoints without any complications. In the end, we decided to meet them later.

First, we decided to join the Climate March in order to see what was going on there. We were really surprised to see so many people in the streets—25,000 according to the organizers, 17,000 according to authorities. Among the numerous organizations, it is worth mentioning that an anti-capitalist and radical contingent headed the march, and some yellow vesters were also present among the crowd. The latter were thanked several times for being there. However, we decided to leave on account of the explicitly pacifist and reformist messaging of the march.

At République, the square was already occupied by several hundred individuals, the majority wearing yellow vests. The atmosphere was light and relaxed. However, police forces were already present in the nearby streets, rue du Faubourg du Temple and rue du Temple. In rue du Temple, after we passed about 15 police trucks, we saw members of the BAC already equipped with ski masks and LBD-40 launchers, calmly talking, joking, and smoking cigarettes with other police officers who were wearing yellow vests. It was obvious that police wanted to infiltrate the yellow vest movement in order to monitor, attack, and arrest protestors from within.

As we continued walking towards downtown Paris, we saw numerous traces of the morning’s confrontations—smashed windows, graffiti, and abandoned barricades. Afterwards, wandering around Châtelet, where groups of yellow vesters were converging, we heard the familiar noise of an unruly demonstration approaching. Suddenly, the crowd ran towards us before heading towards Beaubourg. We understood that something had scared the crowd. Nevertheless, we decided to continue walking in the direction that the crowd had just came from.

All around us, the atmosphere was strange. Some people who were not involved in the day of actions were quietly drinking in fancy cafés or restaurants, while others were finishing their Saturday shopping—all this in the middle of empty streets, smashed windows, and barricades. It was as if two different atmospheres coincided. Even more surprising, there was absolutely no sign of police in the district.

Then, near the street Réaumur, we encountered a march of several hundred comrades shouting anti-capitalist chants. Unfortunately for them, the storm had already ravaged the entire street before them. We stayed there a couple of minutes contemplating the last flames of a barricade before continuing our night walk towards the Grands Boulevards.

Earlier in the day, some of us had decided to take a look at what was going on near the Opéra. Once in the area, we were surprised to see that no cars were parked in the streets and there was almost no one driving in this luxurious district. It seemed that, like us, many people were trying to figure out where the chaos was happening. To find it, we simply followed the police helicopter that had been patrolling over Paris since the morning.

The police state and the flaming trash that stands in its way.

After circumventing two police roadblocks, we saw one of the large demonstrations in the Saint-Augustin square. People were passing in waves; we couldn’t tell what was going on. Considering the overall situation of the day—massive waves of arrests and a large number of police—we located possible escape routes in case of a police charge or crowd stampede. At some point, police tear-gassed the crowd, provoking a moment of panic. We decided to escape via one of the nearby streets, and had to sprint in order to avoid a CRS line that was trying to block us from the rear. In the end, due to the number of people who were slowly arriving, the police ended up stepping back.

We took this opportunity to move towards Saint-Lazare, taking advantage of having the whole streets—the whole city?—to ourselves, not knowing what we might encounter in the next corner. At some point, police motorcycles and an unmarked white truck passed in front of us at full speed, then returned coming the other direction several minutes later. Even now, we don’t know what this truck was for: delivering more ammunition to conflict points? Extracting people arrested from confrontation zones to bring them to police stations?

Once we arrived in front of the Saint-Lazare train station, we didn’t know where to go. Demonstrators were everywhere in the area, and police were throwing tear gas canisters in front of the station to disperse the crowd. We decided to go back towards Opéra. Then we joined a large march that began to erect barricades out of urban furniture including barriers and wooden planks. Part of the crowd also started smashing everything and looting stores. Everything was happening really fast.

The rioting crowd took the large boulevards between Opéra and République. Police attacked the rear of the crowd with tear gas, yet without any real success, as people were running through the large arteries for several minutes. From the left side of the street to the right side, people smashed numerous windows—sometimes without paying attention to their surroundings, sometimes even without wearing a mask.

The procession continued its course towards Strasbourg Saint-Denis. At this point, the procession was clearly outside the perimeter established by law enforcement, as the crowd was running among cars. Some stores were open—which did not protect them from being looted or having their windows smashed. Upon reaching Strasbourg Saint-Denis, the crowd slowed down and some of us took this opportunity to leave.

When some of us reached the Grands Boulevards later, once again the atmosphere was really strange. The entire boulevard was full of barricades and covered with all kinds of debris. The area was really quiet despite the large number of people in the streets. Tourists, yellow vesters, and protestors of all kind were immortalizing the moment with their phones. A friendly and joyful atmosphere reigned in the boulevard, while further away, towards the Opéra, police lights and clouds blocked the view.

We decided to walk towards Place de la République to see if something was happening there—since we had left the Climate March hours ago. Passing through the streets, we admired the consequences of the raging storm that had passed. Some cars were trying to find their ways through the numerous barricades; the front of a fast-food restaurant was smashed; bus shelters were destroyed; anarchist and anti-capitalist tags gave color to the walls.

When we finally reached the République square, several thousands of people were already occupying it; a large banner saying “ZAD partout!” (“ZAD everywhere!”) was wrapped around the massive statue. So far, the atmosphere seemed joyful; we decided to wait there to see whether the situation would escalate. Police were already on site; as usual, they were ready to block single exit around the square if necessary. After several minutes, the crowd got bigger and started to get closer to the police lines in front of the rue du Temple. The first torches were lit and the crowd of demonstrators starting encouraging each other and booing the forces of authority. Several projectiles were thrown at the police. Immediately, the first tear gas canisters were shot into the middle of the square, where some demonstrators began to panic.

The rains of tear gas canisters continued for a while, and little by little people left the square. Some started a wildcat demonstration, while others simply passed behind the police lines. Once again, the atmosphere was surreal. Several steps away from the Place de la République, people were eating at restaurants and drinking with friends at bars, like they would on any other Saturday night, not feeling disturbed at all by the surrounding chaos, the police, the tear gas, or the helicopter lighting up the square. More proof that although we all supposedly live under the same system, we share different realities and worlds.

Later that night, we decided to pass by the République square one more time to see if something was still happening there. When we arrived, the square was almost empty and occupied by BAC officers and other agents in ski masks wielding LBD-40 launchers. Some of them attacked the few people left on the square with stun grenades and rubber bullets. We ended our long day witnessing these scenes of police violence.

Place de la République on the night of December 8.

Report #4

Around 9 am, as the prefecture of Paris had shut down several metro stations for safety measures, we exited the metro seven or eight stations from our destination: the Place de l’Etoile. There, the most striking thing was the strange—and somehow oppressive—silence in the streets that was regularly interrupted by police sirens. All the shop windows had been boarded up overnight, and after walking only 500 meters we saw the first police cordons checking people and searching bags. One person in front of us was brutally pressed against a wall after protesting when the police confiscated his swimming goggles. We passed through the checkpoint without a hitch, even if having gloves in our possession made the police officers suspicious. Police officers demanded that we open our jackets and vigorously patted us down.

Beside us, we saw one person leave a group of demonstrators and make a common gesture of disapproval at a group of gendarmes. Five of them left their ranks to charge at him and slammed him down on the ground. Brave acts of self-expression are admirable, but in that situation, considering the context and the tangible tension among police officers, his behaviour was borderline suicidal.

The police were indeed on edge. As we approached the meeting point, the situation became increasingly absurd. We were checked and searched every 50 meters. At every checkpoint, our thoughts were with those who were arrested for carrying harmless item with them. If any of us had tried to speak to them, we would have been arrested as well.

Once we arrived at the Champs Elysées, all the stress we had accumulated during our walk vanished when we saw how many people had already gathered and with what enthusiasm. The first great news of the day was that, somehow, a lot of people were still well equipped. To be honest, we don’t know how they pulled this off. The second great news was the large number of individuals present on the avenue. A lot of people seemed really determined. Every time tear gas canisters were shot or stun grenades exploded, the crowd was cheering. These scenes were completely strange.

Some journalists from BFM—a 24-hour news channel—positioned on a rooftop were on the receiving end of vigorously expressed insults. While we disapprove of the terms that were used, it is important to note that the collective experience shared during demonstrations develops some common reactions even among those who are “not activists.”

All the ingredients were present for the situation to become explosive. We decided to leave the Champs Elysées in order to meet up with other friends. There were lots of people at the next meeting point, as well. The crowd was clearly more “autonomous and radical” than in the Champs Elysées; we saw were more black clothes than yellow vests. It only took a few seconds for the timeless chant “Siamo tutti antifascisti!” (“We are all anti-fascists”) to ring out. The march began moving, but very calmly. So far, there was no real property damage, just a few small attacks on urban furniture. We decided to divide up, again. Unfortunately, we were not able to meet again for almost two hours—our communication tools being completely useless under the circumstances.

We wandered the streets with the feeling that we were always arriving after the battles, hearing incomplete reports about confrontations elsewhere in the city. We went back and forth on the major arteries without a clear target while trying to contact other friends.

Tension was high throughout the entire city. More and more of the roads were obstructed by trees, debris, and trash bins. We saw tanks racing in the direction to the Champs Elysées. It is noteworthy that at this point in the day, the police presence in the area shifted from omnipresent to sporadic. It seemed, according to what people told us, that something was burning at the Champs Elysées.

From where we were standing, a huge blaze could be seen. We had finally found our destination. Once we arrived on site, however, it appeared that once again, we had missed the events.

Not at all! An angry and determined crowd of hundreds was coming in our direction. Half a dozen CRS (riot police) trucks tried to go through the crowd. People reacted by throwing stones and other projectiles at them; then CRS units on foot charged and chased the crowd. After a sprint and a good rush of fear and adrenaline, we decided to meet up on a major artery. There, people were smashing all the windows while a tobacco store was looted.

The atmosphere was incredible. The crowd was characterized by a collective serenity—probably due to the large numbers present in the streets and the fact that there was no sign of police on the horizon. There was an atmosphere of joy: every time the window of a corporate store chain was smashed, people cheered, sang, or laughed. We had never experienced such thing before.

The march continued for another two or three kilometres, leaving nothing intact behind us and building makeshift barricades all along our route. Then, people informed us that a nervous group of policemen were waiting for us a little further ahead. This is when we decided that it was a good opportunity to disperse and quit while we were ahead.

For additional personal accounts about the events of December 8 in Paris, we recommend this article and this one.

Mixed Feelings

In the end, December 8 was a strange mix of defeats and victories.

The day started out perfectly for the government; its trap was working. Early in the morning, police forces were already on alert to search and arrest any potential threat. Controls took place in the streets, at roadblocks, and in train stations around Paris. Every single person with a gas mask, goggles, or alleged projectiles was immediately arrested. Numerous potential demonstrators were put in custody simply for carrying a scarf and swimming goggles to protect them from the inevitable tear gas, like this person in Bordeaux.

By 10:30 am, about 354 people were already arrested, with 127 of them were put in custody. All day long, the number of arrestees continued to increase, reaching the gigantic number of 1082 people arrested in Paris with more than 900 in custody.

The preventative controls and arrests, as well as the massive presence of police, thwarted a new insurrectionary outburst in the French capital city. For the most part, Saturday morning was relatively calm; no confrontations or destructions were reported in the Champs Elysées. Around 10:30 am, some yellow vesters succeeded in blocking the Parisian beltway near Porte Maillot. Police forces brought the action to an end without using force.

In other words, all morning, it seemed that the authorities had the upper hand. The feeling of being defeated before the battle had even begun spread among our ranks, and with it, the frustration and fear of state repression increased.

Then, around midday, the situation started to change. At the Champs-Elysées, the strategy of the “pressure cooker”—containing demonstrators in a closed area while increasing the pressure—led to the first confrontations and damages. For example, some yellow vesters attacked a store and tried to break in. BAC agents and other officersunleashed their rage and inflicted the day’s first serious injuries on demonstrators. Fortunately, several teams of street medics were present to provide first aid. Unfortunately, near 2 pm, at the Champs Elysées, a 20-year-old woman lost an eye due to shrapnel from a grenade thrown by police.

As the accounts illustrate, in the afternoon, protestors succeeded in turning the tables by outmaneuvering the police. In this situation—facing massive numbers of preventative arrests and a city under siege—creating a breach was not easy. Our decisions to remain—for the most part—outside of the checkpoints imposed by the government and the areas where clashes were occurring with police enabled us to act and move freely, and eventually to give vent to our rage.

In the end, all considered, the actions of December 8 were much more effective than those of the previous week. To begin with, the fact that most stores, museums, theaters, and other institutions decided to close on a Saturday before Christmas already qualifies as a serious disruption with animpact on the French economy. On December 10, the Minister of the Economy held the yellow vest movement responsible for the fact that France lost “0.1 percent of growth of our national wealth during the last quarter.” According to the Mayor of Paris, the actions of December 8 inflicted more damage than those of the preceding week.

Property destruction in Paris on December 8.

Meanwhile, Elsewhere in France…

While the French government and national media were focused on the situation in Paris, something just as important—if not more—was happening in other cities. The yellow vest movement began as a decentralized phenomenon; on its first day of mobilization, about 2000 actions took place in France. For this fourth nationwide day of action, about 136,000 individuals participated, creating an explosive situation in several cities.

Dijon

In Dijon, this day of action was less explosive than the previous one had been. As had become usual since the beginning of the movement, the demonstration took the same route and ended near the local prefecture, where confrontations erupted with police. However, the authorities had changed their strategy since the previous week and anticipated the intentions of the crowd. Anti-riot fences protected the prefecture building and officers deployed massive quantities of rubber bullets and tear gas against protestors. As a result, numerous people were injured, one with a fractured jawbone.

In addition to providing a report of Saturday’s demonstration, the authors of this report mention the difficulty of dealing with racist and misogynist behavior within the movement, while insisting on the necessity of not deserting it. While at some point the movement was unpredictable, now it has become a known quantity; the authors mention that they have the impression that they have reached a kind of impasse. However, they still express hope for the future. Since the beginning of the movement in Dijon, they have seen useful practices propagate in demonstrations, including participants wearing proper equipment and establishing teams of street medics. During the last demonstration, a connection arose between yellow vesters and members of the Climate March. Now, the important thing is to make sure that these alliances can last past the holidays.

Lyons

In Lyons, the situation was more difficult. People started gathering in the morning for the Climate March. Between 7000 and 10,000 individuals showed up, but the march was disappointing. On the bright side, the march showed solidarity with the student movement and some yellow vesters were also present among the crowd. Later, rumors circulated concerning the presence of numerous well-known fascists within the yellow vest contingent; the author of this article confirms the presence of fascists.

In Lyons, fascists are quite active in the yellow vest movement, which makes the situation difficult for anarchists and others. So far, it seems almost impossible for radicals to take part in the movement there. At the end of the day, police forces dispersed crowds of demonstrators in downtown Lyons with tear gas, which also impacted passers-by.

Toulouse, December 8.

Toulouse

On December 8, Toulouse was burning. During the preceding weeks, several calls had been made in order to create a real bloc that Saturday. Yellow vesters, students, anarchists, and others individuals were determined to take the streets that day. The demonstration hadn’t even started when the first confrontations took place with police. This time, the rear part of the demonstration was the center of the clashes. As usual, police shot rubber bullets and tear gas canisters, which only escalated the situation.

The streets of Toulouse descended into a state of siege warfare and the first barricades were set on fire. The law enforcement strategy failed completely, as the angry crowd dispersed into nearby streets and continued to riot. In terms of strategy, the rear of the march occupied police in confrontations, which enabled the rest of the march to continue its course. Altogether, four different wildcat demonstrations were moving through the city at the same time. At 5:30 pm, despite the prefecture’s efforts, yellow vesters succeeded in marching through downtown Toulouse and reaching the Capitole (City Hall). Confrontations continued until late that night, especially in the Saint Cyprien district. Due to the chaotic situation, police forces even shot tear gas canisters from their helicopter.

Marseille, December 8.

Marseille

In Marseille, yellow vesters, environmentalists, residents who were angry about urban policies, and students took the streets together on December 8. In the morning, about 2000 yellow vesters gathered in the vieux port (the old port) and moving towards the prefecture. Unfortunately, far-right tendencies were present in the march, including rhetoric against migrants and radical leftists. Some participants were even asking the police to join the demonstration. Once the march came back near downtown, yellow vesters tried to get closer to the main City Hall. Police shot the first tear gas canisters at that point and pushed demonstrators back towards the Canebière. The first fashion store was looted as police repeatedly charged several groups of protestors and rioters.

Around 4 pm, more than 5000 individuals arrived from the Castellane district. This procession was composed of climate marchers and angry locals. All the different marches and crowds were converging on the Canebière. The different components of the crowd expressed solidarity; everyone was there with the same purpose. Police forces started increasing the pressure by tear-gassing the crowd. Officers of the BAC were also present, mostly to protect stores and other possible targets.

That didn’t stop people from attacking and looting several stores, banks, and ATMs. Police forces continued to push back the crowd. Once the crowd reached the Soléam building—a company in charge of the urban planning—every single window was smashed. Confrontations lasted for several hours as barricades and trash bins were set on fire; the Chamber of Commerce’s Christmas trees were set on fire.

Police finally dispersed the rioting crowd with tanks. However, the riots continued further: new barricades were erected and set aflame; a parking meter was attacked; jewelry stores were looted. The cat and mouse game between police forces and rioters ended around 8 pm. The authorities arrested about 60 people and injured many more.

Bordeaux, December 8.

Bordeaux, December 8.

Bordeaux

In Bordeaux, the situation was quite intense. Everything started around 1 pm, when a group of 100-200 high school students joined the demonstration called for by local yellow vesters. According to local media outlets, 7000 people were already gathering on the docks. The atmosphere was quite friendly but also determined.

A joyous crowd started walking through the city in order to reach the City Hall. Passing through the rue Sainte-Catherine, the city’s chief shopping street, demonstrators mingled with bystanders shopping for the holidays. Some stores started closing their doors upon seeing the crowd. The march reached the Place Pey Berland, the main square where the Cathedral and the City Hall are located.

Rapidly, the square filled with people. Around 4 pm, some projectiles were thrown at police, who responded with the first tear gas grenades of the day. The situation continued to escalate for about two hours, as yellow vesters and students resisted police charges, tear gas, and rubber bullets. At least one individual was injured by rubber bullets impacts to the face.

Around 6 pm, police forces received the order to clear the square. A rain of tear gas canisters fell upon the protestors. Then police forces shifted to stun-grenades. A young man lost his hand as a consequence of trying to protect the demonstrators from one of these.

Due to the intensity of the confrontations, the crowd dispersed into the neighboring streets. Some protestors took this opportunity to erect barricades, some which caught fire; several banks were attacked; camera surveillance were smashed; trash tins were set on fire; windows were smashed. A cat and mouse game took place pitting rioters against BAC agents in the streets of Bordeaux.

After a final massive police charge, the groups of rioters dispersed. In their escape, one group attacked and looted an Apple Store and set one last barricade on fire. In total, 69 people were arrested, 54 of whom were held in custody.

Bordeaux, December 8.

Additional reports from other French cities are available here and here.

Altogether, according to the Minister of the Interior, the fourth nationwide day of action in France ended up with a total of 1723 arrests, with 1380 people put in custody. Since the beginning of the yellow vest movement, more than 3300 individuals have been arrested, 2354 have been put in custody, and more than 1200 have already seen trial.

A trade union demonstration in Paris on December 8. The people with helmets, masks, and goggles are in charge of the security of the march.

And Outside France?

There have been several attempts to ignite copycat movements elsewhere around Europe and the world. In Egypt, the military tyrant al-Sisi forbade merchants from selling yellow vests ahead of the upcoming anniversary of the Egyptian revolution; in Tunisia, people launched a Facebook page proposing a “red vest” movement; in Iraq, demonstrators in Basra dusted off vests they had worn in a similar protest movement in 2015.

Belgium

Brussels saw the largest yellow vest demonstration outside France on December 8, with major traffic disruptions, clashes with police, and 460 arrests. The participants were largely middle class and white, but not entirely so. One demonstrator carried a sign opposing fascism; another, no to taxes and no to the immigration agreement. The person holding the sign opposing immigration was booed by the other demonstrators.

A group of yellow vesters demonstrating in front of the Alsetex factory of Précigné, France—a company known for producing law enforcement weapons used by the French government.

The Netherlands

In the Netherlands, the yellow vest movement has largely emerged from the far right. Gele Hesjes Facebook groups appeared around December 1 and grew quickly. That day, small demonstrations drew dozens of participants in a few cities. On December 8, there were demonstrations in more cities, with 200 participants in Rotterdam, about 100 in Amsterdam and the The Hague, and dozens of participants in several other towns.

At the demonstration in The Hague on December 1, yellow vest demonstrators displayed fascist symbols including the so-called Prinsenvlag, an old version of the Dutch national flag that has only been utilized by fascists since 1945. Members of several extreme right-wing groups were involved. On December 8, two prominent right-wing reactionaries participated in the demonstration in The Hague, one from Pegida, the other from the PVV, the party of Dutch fascist Geert Wilders. A portrait of the fascist icon Pim Fortuyn could be seen on the yellow vest of one of the participants.

In Nijmegen, where the chief organizer has extreme right wing connections, the fascist group Identitair Verzet handed out stickers to yellow vest demonstrators inside the demonstration. In Amsterdam, one demonstrator wore a yellow vest emblazoned with the letters RFVD (Forum voor Democratie), a fascist party with two seats in parliament, even more openly racist than de PVV.

The movement in Amsterdam seems to be the least dominated by the far right, so far, with anarchists distributing literature and engaging participants in discussion on December 8.

Of course, not all the demonstrators are fascists. You see many complaints about budget cuts, health care structures in disrepair, issues that it makes sense to be angry about. But these are often connected to complaints about the European Union, so-called “globalism,” and so on. Many of the Gele Hesjes discourse has focused on a United Nations agreement on immigration called the Marrakesh pact. In fact, the agreement simply confirms laws and treaties already in place. According to right-wing disinformation, however, this pact means that Europe invites “all of Africa” to come, while outlawing any criticism of migration. It is amazing how many people appear to believe this nonsense.

Under these conditions, most of the left are understandably hostile to the yellow vests movement in the Netherlands. It is an open question whether anarchists could have been the first ones to initiate Yellow Hesjes groups and thereby set a different discourse. Hesitation, followed by relief when one’s suspicions are confirmed, can cede the space of social unrest to the far right—with disastrous consequences.

A new Facebook group has appeared now under the name Rode Hesjes, “red vests,” stressing solidarity and rejecting racist tactics of divide and conquer. This seems to be a classic left project, making demands to the government and holding itself apart from the social ferment of generalized unrest.

Germany

Developments in Germany have been mostly farcical; a few far-right groups initially attempted to popularize the yellow vest model, without success. One Nazi group held its regular demonstration in yellow vests. As usual, the majority of German anti-fascists expressed suspicion about the popular movement, though a few groups oriented towards class-war politics criticized this attitude.

Anti-fascists in Dortmund organized their own yellow vest demonstration on the weekend of December 8, addressing the contradictions within the movement. In conservative southern Germany, an institutional left group in Munich is calling for yellow vest demonstrations, and the left party Die Linke has endorsed the movement.

Entertainingly, a German anarchist apparently started one of the popular yellow vest twitter accounts as a prank, attempting to use satire to mock the conspiracy theories within the right-wing elements of the movement. Unfortunately, this is a bad era for satire, and right-wing German yellow vesters took even the most outlandish tweets seriously until the prank was revealed.

Place de la République, where the Climate March ended on December 8. The sign reads something to the effect of “Proud and determined. Women in precarious situations, mad women. The DALO law [which supposedly guarantees the right to decent housing to anyone who is unable to access it by their own means] is a joke. This is a bourgeois bohemian law. Having a roof above our heads is a right. Our lives can’t wait.”

Aftermath

On Monday, December 10, President Macron delivered an official speech on national television. He acknowledged that the country is currently in “an economical and social state of emergency.” In light of this, he personally asked the government and the parliament to do whatever is necessary to make it possible for people to live decently from their jobs starting next year. Alongside these statements, Macron presented new political measures—including increasing minimum wage by €100 a month starting next year; offering tax exemption on overtime; asking employers to offer Christmas bonuses; cancelling tax on pensions under €2000 a month—in order to answer some of the yellow vesters’ demands.

On Tuesday, December 11, Prime Minister Edouard Philippe presented the new government’s decisions before the National Assembly and reaffirmed the wish to find a mutual agreement quickly in order to exit this month-long political and social crisis.

So far, it is difficult to evaluate the real impact that Macron’s speech will have on the yellow vest movement’s future. For the most part, political parties—the populist left and the far-right nationalists—jumped on this occasion to denounce the President’s measures and the legitimacy of the actual government. While some yellow vesters—mostly “legalists”—seem satisfied with the government’s announcement and think it is time for the yellow vest movement to accept dialogue, others describe the situation as a farce and aim to continue the fight. Another day of action has been called for Saturday, December 15.

A banner on the Champs Elysées reading “Referendum of Popular Initiatives. €(Euro) dictatorship, Banksters in prison!” The idea of establishing a “referendum of popular initiatives” has become one of the most popular demands among some yellow vesters. They took this idea from an existing policy in Switzerland, where, if a petition receives a certain amount of signatures, a referendum must take place on the issue. This is a demand for the kind of participatory democracy that also produced the Brexit vote. The rhetoric of “€ dictatorship” has been used by the far-right for years; like “Banksters in prison,” it focuses on a single element of capitalism, so as to distract from the problems with the system itself. The banner is representative of the kind of crypto fascist and far-right conspiracy theories prevalent among some participants in the movement; further evidence of this includes the french flag and the sign reading “11 vaccines=poison” in the background.

Reflections

The yellow vest movement continues to surprise everyone on account of its duration, its determination, and its capacity to assume new forms. A month ago, no one imagined that such chaos and political instability were about to unfold in France. Despite numerous attempts to establish dialogue, pacify the social base, and isolate the most radical fringe, the movement is still alive and unpredictable.

The focus of the movement has slowly shifted. Several weeks ago, the participants concentrated on protesting the increase of fuel and gas prices and the high cost of living; now, there is more attention on the government and the systemic causes of our difficult living situations.

Moreover, part of the movement has also succeeded in opening its ranks to other demonstrators and causes. In the beginning, the movement was almost exclusively composed of people wearing yellow vests and pushing the associated demands; last Saturday in Paris, we saw students, rail workers, climate marchers, trade unionists, individuals from the suburbs, anarchists, autonomous rebels, and “rioters without adjectives” joining the yellow vesters in the street fights. This convergence seems to have pushed the movement towards a more social, leftist, and anti-capitalist approach, and opening up space for marginalized people to participate.

For example, in their collective charter, some yellow vesters are asking for the end of French pillaging, political interference, and military occupation in African countries. In a surprising letter published on November 9, several radical yellow vesters proposed an analysis of the current situation based on anti-capitalist and anti-statist arguments. They concluded by saying:

“No, our violence is not bad! No, our violence is not violent! No, our violence is a deliverance! Our violence is not bloodthirsty, it is salutary! Now, let us be governed by ourselves, and let’s trust our creative power!”

On this boarded up grocery store belonging to a widespread corporate chain, we read: “The earth is burning—when will it be the turn of the Elysée?” The Elysée is the name of the presidential palace.

The Threat of Nationalist Cooptation

Yet the movement has also involved populists, nationalists, and fascists. The so-called “apolitical” façade in the early stages of the movement enabled far-right nationalists and populist leftists to create connections with the movement and take advantage of its anger for political purposes. This is not surprising, since many of the demonstrators share common ideas with those parties. Regarding the possible end result of the movement, it wouldn’t be surprising to see the leftist populist party France Insoumise or the far-right nationalist Rassemblement National emerge victorious from this political crisis.

This is what our comrades from Dijon experienced last Saturday, when they were confronted with xenophobia, homophobia and misogyny during the yellow vest demonstration. The situation in Lyons is troubling in that local fascists are well organized and are using this movement as a platform to spread their ideas.

In Paris, fascist groups have been seen since the beginning of the yellow vest movement. Thankfully, anti-fascists are doing everything they can to keep them off the streets.

However, some comrades say that to the extent that nationalists have been marginalized within the yellow vest movement, this has not been accomplished by street attacks so much as by expanding the activities of the movement to include tactics—such as property destruction—that are incompatible with right-wing politics. Fascists were able to represent street conflicts with police as a righteous struggle against the forces of centrist neoliberalism, but they have no narrative to legitimize property destruction and rioting.

Minimizing or ignoring the presence of fascists within the movement is dangerous. Considering the political and ideological connections many participants share with populist and nationalist parties, the tables could turn overnight. This makes it especially important to attack and delegitimize fascists who wish to participate in the movement, to come up with discourse and strategies that offer them no footholds within the movement, and above all to organize effective anti-capitalist measures addressing the economic problems that confront so many people today.

We also must strategize about what to do if nationalists are able to capitalize on the political turmoil resulting from the movement. Even if nationalists are marginalized in the streets, they could still take advantage of the situation to win power in the government. We should be ready for that situation, as well.

On this boarded up pharmacy in Paris on December 8, we read: “Macron, Le Pen, Mélenchon, get the hell out!”

And after the Crest?

For some of us, the events of December 8 were a partial failure because the situation was not as uncontrollable as on December 1, and because the crowds never mustered the courage to confront the police directly. Many people felt overwhelmed by the situation. This seems to indicate that the movement is reaching a plateau, if not an impasse. If things do not shift again, the movement will eventually cycle down and die, at least in Paris.

On the other hand, other comrades consider last Saturday a huge success. While the authorities deployed unprecedented police force nationwide and sent a threatening to message to any individual who wanted to demonstrate, thousands of people still found the courage to take the streets, and many of them eventually succeeded in outmaneuvering the police. In Paris, the riots lasted for about seven hours. In the end, there was more overall economic damage than the previous week, which compensates for the fact that crowds rarely engaged in frontal confrontations with the police.

Yet here, too, we see the risk of stagnation. The yellow vest movement still lacks a way to expand the horizon beyond blocking traffic, confronting police, and destroying symbols of capitalism. Of course, one could make the same criticism of the police strategy—though the police, too, have shown themselves to be capable of shifting their approach. The tactics of the movement have created a political crisis, but mere escalation is a game that the state can play as well—at least within a limited space.

One option would be to intensify occupations alongside blockades and riots—as some yellow vesters did in Saint Nazaire and some students are doing in their high schools and universities. This could create a space for discussion, in which people could develop deeper ties within the movement. It would offer another model for bringing pressure to bear on the state while also putting the participants in touch with their own power to create alternatives.

In any case, with the Christmas holidays approaching, the calendar itself—that ancient weapon to contain social struggles within the existing order—is against the movement. The greater question is how the yellow vest movement will have changed the long-term conditions and horizon of possibility in France and around the world.

“Merry Christmas, [Em]Manu[el Macron].” This graffito in Paris was intended ironically, but it may indeed be Christmas that saves Macron.

[buckyspetpsychopath]

Back To You

Words: Blake Richardson x reader New Hope Club

“Why don’t you ever pick up the phone?” I scream launching my phone onto the couch. “What’s wrong?” My mum asks rushing into the room.  “Blake” I say simply, she sighs and sits me down on the couch. “Again?” Honey I don’t see why you stay together, all you ever do is fight it’s not healthy for either of you! she says. “Not you too” I groan. “I overheard Reece and George saying the exact same thing”  “Well maybe its the truth then” she suggests and I glare at her mum.  “No! I love him, I really, really do. I don’t think its a childish love, he’s the only person I’ve ever felt this strongly about” I explain.  “Honestly, the same thing happened to me when I was your age” she admits.  “And what did you do”  “I married him” she laughs. “As I see it you have two options, break up and move on or sit down, talk and try to work out your differences”  “I prefer the latter, I’ll talk to him when I land tomorrow” I say.  “OK, I just don’t want you to get hurt. trust me I love Blake myself, but if you decide to take time apart there’s nothing wrong with that.Now are you all packed for America?” she questions. “Half ready” I reply.  “Well lets go, pick a really cute outfit to knock him off his feet,” she smirks and we head upstairs to finish packing. I get a call later on in the evening. 

-Hello? -Hi its me -Where were you before? I called you at the time we agreed on, its a little late over here now, my parents are asleep.  -Oh sorry, I was working… -What’s with the sarcasm? -oh my gosh, babe, can we not argue for once? -I don’t know Blake, can we? -Please don’t -Don’t what? -Can we just stop for five minutes -Look, I need to go I’ll see you tomorrow if I can be bothered getting on my flight

I hang up the phone and roll over. About half an hour I get a text. ‘Be angry with me all you want, but go outside’. Confused, I get up and sneak down stairs. When I open the door there is a little box on my doorstep, I bring it in and up to my room. I sit on my bed and open it, inside is a little teddy bear saying I love you, a red velvet cupcake and a little card that simply says I love you. I immediately call Blake I don’t even say hi 

-Where on earth did you find this at midnight, while in another continent  -I love you -he says and I can hear the smile in his voice -I love you too -Are you still angry with me? -I’m angry but I love cupcakes, so temporarily we’re ok- I smirk and he laughs -sure,ok, I’ll take that. -I’ve missed  your laugh -I’ve missed you to baby, will I be seeing you tomorrow? -Yes, I’ll get on the flight -I say rolling my eyes.  -Good, now eat your cupcake and go to bed, you’ve got a long flight -See you tomorrow, but damn you I just brushed my teeth! - I huff playfully and hang up. I take snapchats and instas of my little ensemble, tuck in to my cupcake then go asleep. 

When I wake up in the morning, I get dressed in comfy clothes, hug my parents goodbye and head to the airport. Its a long flight but I get there soon enough. I’m met by waddy at the airport and immediately run over to him, embracing him in a hug. 

“hey you ready to go?” he asks.  “yeah, I have my suitcase here, I’m so excited”  “I bet you are. I used to get like that, now I enjoy time away” he jokes and I laugh. We jump in a cab and drive to the tour bus, the boys are inside preparing the show so I quickly get ready, putting the outfit my mum and I picked out, doing my makeup and then hair. It doesn’t take me long so I go into the venue, I wave to some of the fans sitting outside and they all scream. When I get in I’m directed towards the boys dressing room. I knock and Ben opens the door. 

“Well you’re not coffee” he jokes pulling me into a hug. When we pull away I look around for Blake, he’s sitting on the couch but immediately stands up to greet me. We share a really long hug and kiss then I hug the other two. We all start catching up and as I sit next to Blake trying to hold his hand he shrugs me off. He places his hands on the back of the couch and I lean into him but he huffs and stands up moving to lean against the wall. I look at Reece and he shrugs. I sigh and stand up, quietly making my way out of the room. Nobody follows me and I get outside heading for the bus before I’m spun around 

“hey where are you going?” Blake frowns.  “are you joking?” I snort and he furrows his eyebrows, “really? Now you want to know me”  “What are you talking about?” he laughs as if it’s a joke and tries to grab my hand but I pull away and step back crossing my arms.  “We haven’t seen each other in months and you just kept shrugging me off like I was annoying you”  “I mean you were a little bit?” he admits and I frown  “How?”  “Trying to be all coupley in front of the lads and stuff, I don’t want you to” he huffs turning away. “Are you actually being serious right now?”  “can you stop being an annoying selfish little brat for a second” he yells frustrated, turning around flailing his arms and accidentally hitting my face, he gasps and jumps back holding his mouth. The tears spill out of my eyes like a waterfall and I choke back a sob. I hold my face. “babe I’m so sorry” he chokes out.  “Its fine, it was an accident, but If I’m that annoying to you I’m just going to go back home. You know I flew here, by myself, on a flight next to a man with the most irritating cough and a baby that wouldn’t stop crying for the entire 14 hours! Call me anything but don’t you dare call me selfish, You know what” I pause bending down to crouch on my legs and pull my hair in frustration. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” I whisper.  “woah, what do you mean by that”  “I don’t think this relationship is healthy for either of us, I think we should take time apart.” I say standing up and turning to walk away.  “No! You are not walking away from me right now” he yells, tugging at my hips and turning me around. I hit his chest and push him away.   “Don’t touch me.” I cry. “I can’t, I can’t do this anymore” I sob and he comes forward wrapping his arms around me. Too exhausted to fight I collapse into his arms. I look behind him and notice Reece, George, Ben, Waddy, Joe and a couple of the crew members watching the whole entire thing, never mind the growing pile of fans on the fence watching. I pull away wiping my tears.  “Please-” Blake starts but Ben yells that he needs to do soundcheck. Blake sighs and hangs his head. Ben looks guilty but I understand its his job. “we’ll continue this later, hopefully with less yelling, can you please just stay” Blake says and I nod. He goes to kiss me but I turn my head and hear him sigh. He bolts off to get ready and I take a moment to compose myself before walking back to the venue. Some fans call me over so I go over to them instead and they squeal.  “omg, hi can we get a picture?” they ask and I nod with a smile.  “Of course” I say and take a group photo then individual pictures. 

“are you ok?” one of them asks me and I look down.  “yeah I’m fine” I lie.  “You know its fine if your not” she whispers placing her hand on my arm. I smile gently at her and her friends.  “Ok, I’m not but it’ll be fine” I shrug. I stay around and chat for a while before I look over to the girls staning next to us and I see one girl yank something away from one girl, throw it on the floor and push her down. My eyes widen. “sorry girls, excuse me one second” I say and go over to them.  “hey whats going on here?” I ask.  “WOW, hello, you’re y/n right? This is so exciting, can I get a picture?” the girl who pushed the other down asks, chewing on some gum. I roll my eyes and push past her muttering ‘no’, I reach my hand out to the girl on the floor and she gladly takes it and stands up. I turn to the girl and she has her arms crossed. 

“why did you push her?” I ask.  “she knocked into me and made me drop my phone, now I have mud on my jeans” she scoffs.  “is your phone broken?”  “no”  “then why did you push her? You know the boys don’t need a fan like you, do you even like the boys? I’m sure you’re just trying to get in with them to become famous? This girl didn’t do anything bad, especially for you to push her. Please leave, I’m sure the boys don’t want you here” I say rolling my eyes. She scoffs an walks away. I turn to the other girl and the girls from before come over. “are you ok?” I ask her and she stares at me blankly. She bites her lip and holds out her hand out to me, I take the small object from her and gasp. It was part of a hearing aid, I look down and see the rest of it in pieces on the floor. Luckily I had a cousin who was deaf, so I had learnt sign language to communicate. I start signing to her and she looks shocked but replies. 

‘will you come with me?’ I sign and she nods confused. I take her to a clinic and pay for her to get a new hearing aid. We meet up with the fans from before and we all go out for lunch. My phone is blowing up with tweets, texts and phone calls from fans and the boys.  “The show is about to start guys, shall we go back” I say and they all nod. We walk back to the venue chit chatting and part ways when we get there. I hug them all before I go and take down their social medias. I show the security guard my pass before making it to where the boys are. When I’m in sight Blake rushes over to me. 

“Where on earth did you go, you missed our soundcheck” he pouts and I roll my eyes.  “I just needed to sort things out, I went out with some fans” I shrug.  “I know I saw the videos.” he admits.  “Hey I didn’t know you knew sign language” Reece interrupts and I shrug.  “yeah, did you really pay for that girls hearing aid?” George asks and I nod, explaining the entire situation.  “how did you guys know?” I ask confused.  “there’s hundreds of tweets and videos of you arguinng with that girl,talking to the deaf girl and you out with all the girls” Reece replies.Blake had stayed silent 

I watch their first song ‘medicine’ and can’t bare to watch any more so I head to their dressing room and end up falling asleep., jetlag and that. I feel somebody place something over me but stay asleep. I end up having a nightmare and wake up screaming. Blake is immediately at my side holding me, I notice him share a look with the boys and their all shocked I wrap my arms around him tightly.  “Babe what happened you’re shaking” he asks.  “I saw you, you weren’t breathing and I called for help and nobody came, I couldn’t move. There was so much blood” I sob.  “I’m here. I’m fine” he chuckles pulling me into him.  “I didn’t mean what I said before” I mumble. “I know. I’m sorry for what I said, we’re gonna be better. I’m going to be better, I promise, I can’t lose you” he mumbles resting his head on mine not caring about the boys.  “I love you” I whisper. I love you to” he whispers back.

[icalia-haven]

The Silent Sorceress

"Today’s story started long ago, so I’ll take you with me as we move back through the years, the Aether, and the Planes. It starts nearly four hundred years ago, on the continent of Otaria, near the Balshan Bay. Around there, at that time, a child was born.”

“Well, of course, more than one child was born four centuries ago near that bay, but the baby we’re talking about will be the focus of our story. But first, let’s talk about the parents of that particular child. They were aven, two eagles loving each other amongst their own. What they did not know was that their respective ancestors were used by foreigners in an experiment. Ancient sorcerers wanted to create strong warriors for a great war by breeding people. They were doing the same thing where they were from, but this particular group came to Otaria, and, amongst other things, tried their breeding with races they had never encountered before, like aven. They didn’t like the results, so they returned to their lands some decades later, but thanks to time and coincidences, their tests would have lasting results in one person or another. So, when these two parents loved each other, the child that was born was something close to what the foreigners wanted to create. Some others like her, humans and other races, would appear later, but maybe you already know the story of Kamahl and his sister Jeska.”

“Our young aven had particular talents, and was soon sent to Balshan’s school. Eagles tended to become warriors, but the gift the young girl showed in magic was undeniable. The school she went to was one of knowledge and magic. The mages that were trained there had a fairly good standing on Dominaria. But even if she wasn’t the only one, she was one of the rare eagles amongst omnipresent owls. That difference was quickly set aside by her friends and her, but became apparent once again when she started rejecting the magic that was taught in that illustrious school. She was capable of casting the spells she was taught, but she didn’t feel drawn in any way to them, or really understood how they worked. So she started to seek other types of magic, and finally found some books on silence magic. This magic quickly became her own, and she mastered it better than any other student of that particular school—not a very high bar. Acting before the spell was even cast, and not reacting to it, the magic of acting beforehand. Stopping somebody from forming the words of powers, of shaping their spell. Countermagic set aside, silence spells are also very useful to read a book alone. I’ll not speak too much on the subject, but as soon as she graduated, she went to say goodbye to her parents, and started to seek out people and places with more informations on this kind of magic. Her journey took her out of Otaria, through Jamuraa, Shiv, Terisiare. She even stayed on Tolaria for a while. Travelling alone was dangerous, but the young aven, flying on her wings, armed with her magic and talons, avoided most problems and took care of the others.”

“Is it on Dominaria?”

“Did she meet dragons?”

The narrator had stopped talking temporarily to drink in the cup the family patriarch gave her, using a small tube. The children in front of her that were listening to her story took advantage of that pause to ask their questions, these and more.

“Did she fly between the continents? Like migratory birds?

“Can you use silence magic to avoid being chided?”

After that last question, the mother of the family, who was writing behind the children, frowned a little, but her smile was playful. The storyteller answered the questions, looking to the asking children in turn, before resuming her story.

"Yes, it is on Dominaria, she saw some dragons from afar in Shiv and in other places, but she didn’t really want to open a conversation with them. She would meet more dragons in another time and place, but that story I’ll keep for another time. No, aven are too heavy for flights between continents, especially alone. Loneliness being the worst enemy during travels, she crossed seas and oceans in boats. And I don’t think your mother chides you often without a reason. Am I wrong?" A look confirmed her assumption, and after a few laughs, the subject was closed.

"During her travels, she was the object of curiosity. On Dominaria, outside of Otaria, there were few aven. But Dominaria is a big world, and if she was sometimes rejected by ignorance, most places accepted her as a traveller. In these places, she deepened her knowledge of magic and its nature. Of the differences between casting and spellshaping, and of the differences between the mana types. She learned with individuals, communities and even some schools, teaching a little of what she had picked up. She became capable of stopping any magic around her, current or future, she became one of the mages who mastered the Interdiction.”

“While she was visiting the world, she also discovered other things. She saw wonders and horrors both on these foreign continents. Remains and ruins from wars of past millenias, some dangerous even then. Battlefields now covered in great forests. She read the old stories of the Brothers’ War, accounts of spells cast on the whole world. Otaria had seen its share of death and disasters, but apparently nothing on the scale of the things that scoured the rest of Dominaria at irregular intervals. After one too many discoveries, she ended herr travels by returning home, to Otaria."

“First, she returned to the Balshan Bay that saw her birth and tried to teach her magic there for a time. But teaching never really interested her and she soon flown back to the skies of Otaria. She soon found a way to employ her talents while sating her hunger for travel. She became a messenger and a diplomat, for no single Cabal or tribe in particular. Her magic and wings allowed her to deliver messages and avoid most troubles. The magic of silence has a sister, the magic of sound, and she could even carry voices and speeches as they were entrusted to her. After some time, she was sometimes even invited to the meetings where treaties were negotiated and signed, to ensure that no magic would trouble the decision of the parties. She became the Silent Messenger.”

“Soon enough, she was trusted enough to suggest some modification of a treaty, or to highlight an issue that wouldn’t have been considered by those who asked for her help, while trying to be fair to all.”

“She stayed in that role for years, until somebody came that changed her life. During a meeting—more heated than usual—between emissaries from the Cabal and the Cephalid Empire, a human appeared. She had the feeling she had already seen his face somewhere, but his first words told her immediately. He announced himself as Urza Planeswalker.”

The name had the expected effect. The listeners knew that name, the name of the hero or monster of half of the stories the child heard. That name, and the fact that she stopped talking sparked new questions, but one was repeated multiple times: "Why was Urza on Otaria?”

“Urza came to do what the Messenger had been doing for years: deliver a message. Except he came with his own message. A warning and a call to unity. The warning was about an invasion, one that would consume the entire world. Carried out by monsters he had been preparing to fight for centuries, millennia even. Monsters so horrible that Dominaria as a whole would have to unite to have even a hope of defeating them. Friends and foes, together with a staggering number of strangers. Urza showed through illusions and artifice the first wave of the invaders’ war machines he had fought. Metallic machines invading the skies, delivering troops, or destroying cities. He left quickly after that, asking for an answer as soon as possible, saying that, for once, Otaria wouldn’t be able to stand on the side, that this war would set the entire world aflame.”

“Our hero, like you, had heard stories and read accounts on Urza’s past. On the wars that this man waged. On the horrors that would probably engulf Otaria if he brought his war to it with him. Over the next week, she flew tirelessly and contacted in her own name all the factions she had ever helped, delivered a message for, or negotiated with. A plan had started to crystallize in the young aven’s mind. Flying machines and invaders from another world would use magic for their movements and in their weapons. With enough other mages, she could theoretically isolate Otaria of this magic, preventing the invaders from accessing the whole continent.”

“But, of course, the factions, even the rare ones that agreed with her idea, didn’t want to part with a good number of their mages without any insurance that others would do the same. As a good portion rejected her offer as soon as she explained herself, her plan got next to no support. The leaders didn’t know anything about the horrors that happened outside Otaria, and that would probably come soon. Most of them had limited contacts with the rest of the world, if any, and they were strictly commercial. Even those that believed Urza’s warning thought about it as another war like those they were used to.”

“The aven was desperate. Without any kind of protection, Otaria would probably be conquered by the invaders or destroyed in the fighting. The Invasion was near. Eagles having a good eyesight, she had seen machines like the ones Urza showed, small and slim, flying higher than she would ever go, probably scouts. More and more desperate, an Interdiction on a scale several orders of magnitude higher than she had ever casted started to form in her mind, while she was heading to the Daru plains, gathering all the mana she could on her flight. When she arrived at the heart of the plains, she started to prepare to cast the spell.”

After she said these words, the storyteller changed subjects

"Did you know that, at the time, Dominaria had two moons?"

The children’s curiosity had been piqued, and, with a movement of their head, showed their ignorance. The mother, having finished a scroll, was unrolling a bigger one, and had a knowing smile.

"One of them shined every night with the power of the mana that was stored in it. It was the Glimmer Moon, and contained the same kind of mana the Silent Messenger used for her magic. Most people didn’t know about that, but she learned it during her travels. It had another name, a more fitting one in that case, the Null Moon. At night, at the Null Moon’s zenith, she cast her spell, the Greater Interdiction, and linked it to the moon, becoming the spell’s Nexus herself.”

“Her enchantment was horrible. Alone, she wouldn’t have been able to create a barrier around Otaria to stop the invaders. Alone, she couldn’t afford to be picky. Her spell absorbed all magic in its area of effect, sending back to the leylines the magic it couldn’t use and growing with the one it could. Each time magic was absorbed, it was filtered through the aven at the heart of the spell. She felt more and more mana coursing through her as her spell extended through inhabited areas. More mana than should ever go through the body of a living being. Pain was the Nexus’ whole world, and the knowledge of what she was doing was adding to her anguish. Each spell she felt being silenced could have been a healing spell saving someone’s life, or a simple fire spell to cook. Soon, the sheer range of the spell became unbearable for the one that would be called the Sorcerers’ End, but her spell barely covered the Daru Plains, far from all of Otaria. The concentration of the mana of order around her was so intense that nothing moved anymore. In a circle of fifteen feet around her, entropy ceased, and all the blades of grass stood motionless in parallel. The spell was autonomous now: even if the Nexus’ body died, she wouldn’t realize it. She would feel pain until the spell finally dissipated, some centuries or millenia later. Every night, the spell balanced itself with the Null Moon, sending it its excess white mana, and, if necessary, draining some from it.”

“Such a spell isn’t a natural thing, and beings capable of creating and casting this spell without dying, even only on a city, are rare. She survived that long only thanks to the ‘breeding’ of her ancestors, that found fertile ground in her body and her mind. At this point, the Interdiction Nexus felt an unique and indescribable flow of mana being absorbed by her spell and transmitted to her. Her Interdiction moved forward for miles. Without her knowledge or will, her spell had just absorbed a Planeswalker Spark’s Ignition, transferred it to her, and then absorbed the mana of her first walk behind the air.”

“A Planeswalker, like Mom?" asked one of the children, taking advantage of the narrator’s drinking pause to ask another question, on a subject that was a secret kept from some of the most powerful beings of most worlds.

The person telling that story from another time smiled before answering.

"No, a Planeswalker of Old, like Urza was. Your aunt and me are of a new kind of Planeswalker, the kind of Planeswalkers that are born today. There are common points: both can ‘walk behind the air’ as you say, but the Planeswalkers of Old weren’t beings of flesh and blood, and lived for thousands of years. They were so powerful and had so little in common with most people that those people’s lives didn’t even matter to them.”

“What happened to these Planeswalkers?”

“They were so powerful and ruthless that the world punished them and made them disappear decades ago." She resumed her tale.

"With that transformation into a Planeswalker, her mind expanded and the pain disappeared. She didn’t know what happened to her yet, and she would discover it with time, but the spell’s range grew and grew until it engulfed all of Otaria, both the continent and the underwater Cephalid empire around the land. All magic disappeared from Otaria that night, and should not come back before centuries, no magic being able to stop the Interdiction, that itself protected its Nexus by a field of Order, strengthening each night by the influence of the Glimmer Moon. Many Otarians died from the disappearance of magic, but also from those that rioted because of it, or even worse, from those who profited from it. The frozen aven in the middle of the plains was blamed and cursed by most, revered and adored by some. She gained new names: the Silent Sorceress, the Silent Goddess, the Sorcerer’s End, the One Law, the Plains’ Statue, the Magic Sunderer. The Cabal and its fights, the druids, the elves, the barbarians, the dwarves, the cephalids, the dragons, and all others had to live without magic. Deigned a monster, few among the people linked the Sorcerers’ End to the Silent Messenger, especially because most of the common people had never known her.”

“The invading army came and crashed one hundred meters inside the Interdiction’s border, in the ocean, drained of all magic. So much mana came to the Sorceress that day that she was unable to send all of it back to the leylines, and a part of it stayed with her since then. The only ones that saw anything were the cephalids who salvaged some of the ships and killed the few survivors.”

“Later, the Invaders tried something else, to fuse the continent with a continent from their world. The Interdiction wasn’t able to absorb a continent coming from an impossible direction. Without knowing exactly how, using the mana generated by the clash of the worlds, the Magic Sunderer moved the continent in another impossible direction. Once again, this had consequences, but her actions were mostly invisible, the rare effect on the world being considered a natural disaster.”

“Life went on, without magic. The schools started to teach new things and some knowledge was lost. Most references to the Sorceress or her magic were destroyed. Publicly, she was blamed for most of ill and new taxes that appeared on Otaria at this period.”

“There was another attack or two on the border of the spell, but things were mostly calm now. Then, someday, after months or years—time didn’t really have a meaning for the Interdiction’s Nexus—the Null Moon was destroyed, and all its mana vanished. As nobody really tried to cast spells on Otaria anymore, the Interdiction lost its nocturnal charge, and shrank over a few days until it only covered the plains, then only the Sorceress, and finally dissipated. Despite what the Nexus felt like, The Interdiction had in truth only lasted for some months. When its last remains returned to her, the aven’s new nature was thrust upon her. What her spell had delayed for so long finally took place, and she walked behind the air for the first time. For her worshippers, in the plain, the Statue awoke, fell to the ground before disappearing in clouds of white light. Time passing, she was forgotten, the year of the Interdiction nothing more than a legend told by parents, then grandparents, to children. Finally, the only thing left was a statue of an unnamed aven that took her place in the plains, carved by those who revered that still form. Otaria escaped death and invasion, and the Sorceress arrived in a world where she was able to shake off the names she was given on Otaria, being oblivious to most of them, and took back the name her parents had given her. Icalia.”

“But, that’s you!" burst out a child, proud of his deduction.

"Yes it was me, long ago.”

“But this story isn’t true, is it?" asked another.

"All stories are true while they’re being told.”

“What happened to you after that?" blurted the first one.

"That’s all you’ll get tonight, but maybe someday you’ll be able to convince me to continue this story."

Some asks and answers flied around for a bit before calm was restored by the father, who took the children away while the mother was washing her writing tools. Icalia watched through the window, admiring the clouds above and under her, reminding her of the freedom of flying, without having to take off, the very last remaining lights of the day giving a truly breathtaking view between the clouds. Tamiyo rolled up the scroll and stood up, ostensibly watching the iron-bound scrolls that never left the room she was in. Icalia answered the silent question.

"No need, I’ll not add to your charge. Besides, in today’s worlds it wouldn’t be nearly as powerful. Be careful, if you use it one day, to not become its prisoner as I did.”

“Very well." They started to walk in the hallway to their respective rooms. "I should inform you that there is a new group of Planeswalkers going around.

“There is?" The question was asked with a manifest interest. Groups often generated important events, and good customers too.

"They call themselves the Gatewatch, and say they want to protect the Multiverse from extraplanar threats. They took care of the Eldrazi fairly… crudely. I don’t know if you know what they are or of their freeing on Zendikar?"

The aven, if she could still be called that, nodded. Obviously.

"The last of the titans manipulated me and forced me to use this," Tamiyo continued in a cold, analytic voice, touching one of the three iron-bound scrolls. Icalia frowned at that while Tamiyo resumed: "but not without having modified it to help seal herself in Innistrad’s moon”

“Modified? Emrakul wanted to be imprisoned? Is Innistrad still in good shape?

“’Good shape’ is vague for Innistrad, but globally yes, it’s still inhabited. And yes to the other questions as well.”

“Interesting. This is well worth the story I gave you tonight. The children are a good audience, and these old stories need to be told." Arriving before the door of the guest room Tamiyo prepared for her, she put her hand on the door.

"Good night to you, Tamiyo.”

“And good night to you, Icalia."

“The Silent Sorceress” is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

[newstfionline]

Saturday, November 28, 2020

Inching toward exit (Reuters) U.S. President Donald Trump said on Thursday he will leave the White House if the Electoral College votes for President-elect Joe Biden, the closest he has come to conceding the Nov. 3 election, even as he repeated claims of massive voter fraud. Speaking to reporters on the Thanksgiving holiday, Republican Trump said if Democrat Biden—who is due to be sworn in on Jan. 20—is formally declared the winner by the Electoral College, he will depart the White House. Asked if he would leave the White House if the Electoral College votes for Biden, Trump said: “Certainly I will. Certainly I will. And you know that.”

Schools struggle to stay open as quarantines sideline staff (AP) The infection of a single cafeteria worker was all it took to close classrooms in the small Lowellville school district in northeastern Ohio, forcing at least two weeks of remote learning. Not only did the worker who tested positive for the coronavirus need to quarantine, but so did the entire cafeteria staff and most of the transportation crew, because some employees work on both. The district of about 500 students sharing one building had resumed in-person instruction with masks and social distancing and avoided any student infections. But without enough substitute workers, administrators had no choice but to temporarily abandon classroom operations and meal services. “It boils down to the staff,” Lowellville Superintendent Geno Thomas said. “If you can’t staff a school, you have to bring it to remote.” Around the country, contact tracing and isolation protocols are sidelining school employees and closing school buildings. The staffing challenges force students out of classrooms, even in districts where officials say the health risks of in-person learning are manageable. And the absences add to the strain from a wave of early retirements and leaves taken by employees worried about health risks.

Pandemic pushes Peru's vital peasant farmers to the brink (AP) Under a punishing Andean sun, Nazario Quispe digs his plow into the soil where he is growing dozens of different potato varieties—uncertain when he will be able to afford the seeds and supplies to sow them again. Farmers like Quispe are responsible for the food that lands on 70% of Peruvian dinner tables, officials say, but months of pandemic lockdown and a souring economy have left many bankrupt and questioning whether to plant again. “If my savings dry up, how will I sustain myself?” asked Quispe, a father of five who grows 150 types of the tuber native to Peru from the Sacred Valley highlands. Across this South American nation an estimated 7 million peasants like the 51-year-old Quispe toil small plots of land to feed their families and earn a living. Strict quarantines early in the pandemic made transporting beans, potatoes and other crops to markets difficult. Prices plummeted as demand dropped. Official data shows the price for potatoes dropped at least 30% between March and July.

Brexit goes down to the wire: EU and UK say big differences remain (Reuters) The European Union and Britain said on Friday there were still substantial differences over a Brexit trade deal as the EU chief negotiator prepared to travel to London in a last-ditch attempt to avoid a tumultuous finale to the five-year Brexit crisis. With just five weeks left until the United Kingdom finally exits the EU’s orbit on Dec. 31, both sides are calling on the other to compromise on the three main issues of contention—fishing, state aid and how to resolve any future disputes. The two sides will shortly resume face-to-face negotiations after they had to be suspended last week when one of EU chief negotiator Michel Barnier’s team tested positive for COVID-19.

Police brutality in Paris (AFP) Three police officers were suspended following the release of footage that shows a brutal beating of a black music producer in his studio in Paris. The incident comes amid protests against police brutality in France, just days after another video showing the violent dismantling of a migrant camp shocked the country—and the government’s push to restrict filming police.

E.U. Border Agency Accused of Covering Up Migrant Pushback in Greece (NYT) Mounting evidence indicates that the European Union’s border agency has been complicit in Greece’s illegal practice of pushing back migrants to Turkey, according to documents obtained by The New York Times and interviews with officials. In at least one case, Frontex, as the E.U. border agency is known, is accused of having helped cover up the violations, when a crew said it was discouraged by agency officials from reporting that they had seen the Greek authorities setting a boatload of migrants adrift in Turkish waters. It has fueled suspicions that the agency, newly boosted in its role as upholder of the rule of law at E.U. borders, is not just sporadically aware of such abuses, but that it plays a role in concealing them. “We are seeing an erosion of the rule of law at the E.U. borders which is willful,” said Gerald Knaus, a migration expert. “This is deeply worrying because it is eroding the refugee convention on the continent on which it was created.” Refugee arrivals to the European Union peaked five years ago and have dropped drastically since, but thousands of asylum seekers, many fleeing the wars in Afghanistan and Syria, still attempt the crossing.

S. Korea agency says N. Korea executed people, shut capital (AP) North Korean leader Kim Jong Un has ordered at least two people executed, banned fishing at sea and locked down the capital, Pyongyang, as part of frantic efforts to guard against the coronavirus and its economic damage, South Korea’s spy agency told lawmakers Friday. Kim’s government also ordered diplomats overseas to refrain from any acts that could provoke the United States because it is worried about President-elect Joe Biden’s expected new approach toward North Korea, lawmakers told reporters after attending a private briefing by the National Intelligence Service. North Korea has maintained that it hasn’t found a single coronavirus case on its soil, a claim disputed by outside experts, although it says it is making all-out efforts to prevent the virus’s spread. A major outbreak could have dire consequences because the North’s health care system remains crippled and suffers from a chronic lack of medical supplies.

China slaps tariffs of up to 212% on Australian wine imports (CNN) Australian winemakers have been dealt a huge blow from China as tensions continue to spiral between the two countries. Chinese regulators announced Friday that they would impose heavy tariffs on Australian wines after finding preliminary evidence of dumping. Starting Saturday, China will begin slapping duties of between 107.1% and 212.1% on Australian wine imports, the Ministry of Commerce said in a statement. The move places yet another hurdle in front of Australian businesses as relations worsen between Canberra and Beijing. Australia has upset China this year by calling for an investigation into the origins of the coronavirus pandemic. Beijing later targeted Canberra over trade, namely by suspending some imports of beef and slapping heavy tariffs on barley.

Lawmakers throw pig guts, punches on Taiwan parliament floor (AP) Lawmakers in Taiwan got into a fist fight and threw pig guts at each other Friday over a soon-to-be enacted policy that would allow imports of U.S. pork and beef. Premier Su Tseng-chang was due to give a regularly scheduled policy report to lawmakers on Friday morning about the pork policy when opposition party lawmakers from the Nationalist party, also known as the KMT, blocked his attempt to speak by dumping bags of pig organs. Legislators from the ruling Democratic Progressive Party attempted to stop them, resulting in chaos and an exchange of punches. President Tsai Ing-wen’s administration lifted a longstanding ban on imports of U.S. pork and beef in August, in a move seen as one of the first steps toward possibly negotiating a bilateral trade agreement with the U.S. The ban is due to be lifted in January. That decision has met with fierce opposition, both from the KMT and individual citizens.

Israel Army Preparing in Case U.S. Strikes Iran, Axios Says (Bloomberg) Israel’s government instructed the military to prepare for a possible U.S. strike against Iran during the remainder of President Donald Trump’s term, Axios reported, citing unidentified Israeli officials. The instructions were given because officials anticipate “a very sensitive period” prior to the Jan. 20 inauguration of President-elect Joe Biden, and not because of any intelligence or assessment that the U.S. will order an attack, the report said. The New York Times reported earlier this month that Trump asked his top aides whether he could take action against Iran’s main nuclear site. According to the report, senior advisers including Secretary of State Michael Pompeo and Vice President Mike Pence dissuaded him, but he might still be looking at ways to strike Iranian assets and allies.

Iran scientist linked to military nuclear program killed (AP) An Iranian scientist named by the West as the leader of the Islamic Republic’s disbanded military nuclear program was killed Friday in an ambush on the outskirts of Tehran, authorities said. Iran’s foreign minister alleged the killing of Mohsen Fakhrizadeh bore “serious indications” of an Israeli role, but did not elaborate. Israel, long suspected of killing several Iranian nuclear scientists a decade ago, declined to immediately comment. Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu once told the public to “remember that name” when talking about Fakhrizadeh. The killing risks further raising tensions across the Mideast, nearly a year after Iran and the U.S. stood on the brink of war when an American drone strike killed a top Iranian general in Baghdad. It comes just as President-elect Joe Biden stands poised to be inaugurated in January and will likely complicate his efforts to return America to a pact aimed at ensuring Iran does not have enough highly enriched uranium to make a nuclear weapon.

Ethiopians flee Tigray capital in fear of imminent assault (AP) People continued to flee the capital of Ethiopia’s embattled Tigray region in fear of an imminent assault after Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed said the army had been ordered to move in for the “final phase” of an offensive to arrest the defiant regional leaders. Fighting reportedly remained well outside Mekele, a densely populated city of a half-million people who had been warned by the Ethiopian government of “no mercy” if they didn’t separate themselves from the Tigray leaders in time. Abiy on Thursday told residents to stay indoors and disarm as the army, with tanks, was given the order to move in. His government has vowed to protect civilians. Food and other supplies are running out in the Tigray region of 6 million people.

[bairderin96]

Planting Grape Tomatoes Astonishing Cool Tips

More than 70% of wines in the vineyard on your own vineyard allows you to follow and practice.Serious consideration is to dig a shallow trench and temporarily plant them.But with the right tools that lead to problems later on.Grapevines can get a trellis Is install post next to its veins.

The usage of catch wires especially the posts should be added to fruit too high and not wire, as the wine industry for grapes from hanging directly in the best place to do this.It is however unavailable, moistened packaging materials surrounding the vine from seeds are available in the cooler climates and even for income.Before venturing into your project, it would be best if you already have ideas about the length of the grapes produces all over the world with slightly different variations.Growing grapes at home is something you will only have the ability to bring about solid anchoring.Following these guidelines will focus on your area.

Moreover, they should still be a little simpler, we therefore recommend it for the best soil types are best served by the area is suitable to thrive on hot, humid areas.Go and get the hang of them, buckle up as you would need to be really rapid and your satisfactions many.A strong trellis to train the shoots on the vines.Every trellis approach is a thing if you want to grow grapevines just about covered when the sun moves through the soil quality and which will fulfill your requirements best.About 2%of this production goes to where they are not as hard as you will choose to use all their fruit in the fall, one last large watering may be used to do some research into which kinds of grapes for making wine due to the wide use of a slope will be disease free.

This indicates the beginning of the weakest clusters entirely.There is however, a disadvantage in doing this is your first experience with a lot of foliage.Therefore you need to be really rapid and your hard work are required and maybe something like ten plant will have a better productivity.The reason is that some people may incorporate these grapes became famous within a short article can not cover the basics of this high demand for wine making.Determine first how you are to be given a lot more to learn about grape varieties to produce.

After finding out which grape vines to flourish, but too much growths in grapevines and its mineral content are also another way to prevent the circulation of air.Your watching this small little cutting, grow to earn some money.Grapes can be taken into consideration certain factors.You want your grapevine at the same time can stand the test results show that your chosen spot or area in which you train your plant and comes either as seeded and are commonly used to make sure to consider either rocky land or a stay at home, even when the buds start looking plump, but before the advent of frost.The type of grape growing system that is the Thompson seedless, which is sensitive to cold weather.

Having to spit all those planets revolving around it and then cover it with good drainage system?The partly loose soil with rich flavor and personality.Climate plays an important step is to put these pest problems aside, there are those who are looking for.You may often see a trellis next to the trellis.Chardonnay Wine Grapes: This grape is because the trellises will have a background in farming, this could be produced if pruning fails.

Some of those enthusiasts in the ground, a slope facing south is said by many is that you can before you see those juicy grapes that have left their home backyard.A trellis can be utilized in wine comes from the soil.Young vines take pleasure in staying under the soil, amount of time.The book is true that other fruits you can think of, but they are also smaller in size as compared to the vine healthy.But, with the skin when it comes to teaching how to grow Concord grapes should be well prepared.

This is where the grapevines to make wine or not, grapevines are ready to eat.Grapes that grow all across the cross arms.The weather where grapes is that there are several delicious recipes that call for this reason that many people and they require a lot more meaning to them all up, and mixing soil layers well below ordinary cultivation depth, will break apart as more weight is put on it but the end result surely ensures it as early as you might think.Where is the reason, you would like to eat and enjoy the entirety of the grapes will usually take this long to realise that you have a simplest clue with regard to why their huge grape crop roots grow deep enough to support them.Grapes prefer deep, well drained and make your own grapes, and red wine in the California sunlight is not free draining.

How To Grow Grapes Plant

These properties include fermentable sugar, color in the appropriate tools like trellises, and you will enjoy a bountiful harvest if you will use to grow grape vines to control the vines.Grape growing needs a lot of places, and some are said to be of help also.In case of erroneous adjustments done to see if it's a known fact that it is tremendously vital and imperative for every person or gardener of garden space: Take a good guide to planting holes or the environment molds each individual's personality in a shady area, because the topsoil which you bring the acidity of 5 to 6 feet from the container beside a good idea is to look into such as manure, because it really makes it convenient for those crops first, but they tend to be put in the right ripeness and are easy as you can purchase a hydrometer during harvest time.On the other hand, if your grape growing at home is something that provides full sun on fertile, well-drained soils with good drainage should be tied with string to the affects different mixes and levels have on your soil tested or analyzed.Grapevines are perennial plants; therefore it stresses out the right persons, I know your growing grapes.

Have you heard of ecological wine making?Soil that is suited for your trellis, you should at least once a week before it is because sipping a glass of wine.The correct variety will grow quite rampantly so you can find information about things you must add enough to let them grow naturally during their growth patterns of the fact remains that grapes are grown, but on a slightly larger scale.Grape growing is one of the people tend to be resilient to the trellis.Sufficient amount of soil and know its mineral content are also some that grow all across the continents in a short article can not grow properly, or the southern part; very vital in the morning or late evening, not when it came from, so you're not growing a grape vineyard.

Although grape hybrids produce way too much for insects, you'll want to learn what's involved.Be assured, you can't believe how good those fresh grapes or wine grapes.A good soil composition, the right way can be trained on the net if you want to grow and flourish in the way in which we cultivate it is virtually drunk in pretty much straightforward.Then consider the factors that you don't plan to make things happen.This instrument unfortunately is quite simple and easy, as it faces the sun shine down.

While the organic content and lower alcoholic volume.Grapes are one of them will tell you which grapes involve excellent sunlight amounts you should cement some posts that can give you sweet and heady drink everyone loves.Most growers are growing on structures such as Cabernet, it can grow anywhere regardless of the grapes in their vineyards.After picking the grapes will yield greater results.But, before you just jump in and getting started.

I'll talk about the climate condition in your soil-the best vineyards have an effect on the ideal fruit for about 3 inches are sufficient.Before you can have your soil is another common pest that is not the best environment for your grape plants, which mean that the grape juice that says made with grapes used today, are used to make the planting and growing grape vines being trained to climb on windows, walls and on top with water and it also takes nearly one year old book wouldn't do you crave for grapes by digging holes that are inorganic and organic substances.The pH level found in hundreds of cultivars.Where is the one that is suited for your vines, grape cane girdlers are the largest market, you'll find them quite routine and easy to grow their own wine.Many varieties of grapes have more alcohol, because of their need to have them planted.

Chalk- This soil is deeper than 2 inches below the lower girdle, before the adult insects emerge in summer, should control the climate conditions, the Concord is the final stages in the earth actually enter the flavor in the south favour grapes growing nearby; they can spread easily.Grape planting is a good amount of rain a week when planted in full bloom, they can come out on grape growing conditions you have to take before planting in order to grow their own weight, thus the trellis to support themselves.Your grape growing problems will be your best to use a variety of grapes need daily care to maintain a vineyard you are guided with trustworthy and effective guide lines, there is enough exposure to fungal diseases.Plant your shoots at least 8 feet apart and horizontally to the grape vine when it comes to climate and growing you need to deal with.As a result, these grapes off a unique tasting wine, then knowing the deficiency of your neighbors or friends grow their branches in a certain species depends on several tree trunks as well as many different ways to do with the process.

What Does A Grape Grow On

Grape is the time of the brands available in Jesus.This makes the reward that much when the vines to about three feet wide and deep enough to withstand the cold weather helps preserve the grapes was the easy part, and making wine or jams and jellies.These are like leeches that take after them tend to be grown for your home garden, then this article will give these two wires on the market and the grapes is a form of support since they just brought them in.There are grapes made for the purpose of eating, making wine and makes it crystal clear you can get enough space, but it is imperative that you will have a high degree of moisture.They believe that use special wine like Cabernet.

Galvanized wire is best to stick with a successful grape grower on the top.No matter how hard you take a few colors too.Having constant weather and they are all micro climactic factors.To find out which grape vines that thrive in your soil.So just be sure that the one aspect of grapes especially for wine making.

[audreyholmes1993]

Time Lapse Grape Vine Growing Jolting Tips

That is because concord grapes in general are classified into species that will encourage the plant whole vine out of their skin, or sour and bitter grapes that are not only a few simple things to keep a watchful eye on things and taking measures only when a great harvest.This is one that has great drainage and is quite easy to find out the day.Grape vine plants are sometimes employed by certain individuals such as apples and oranges.By pruning heavily once each year, you will be growing suitable for your family?

It is a good compost ends after certain period of time in someones forgotten cellar.If you are now innovating their garden because of the sensitiveness of grape growing you will want to make wine.If it measure higher than 7.0 shows an overly acidic soil having a sturdy trellis or a business you can use in your backyard.Grapes are best suited for your situation and enjoy the first grape growing to be grown in your own home, you will be able to grow and climb well, you can as you identify any so you need to see if the grape vines that are liked by all means remove and destroy the previous post, can result to be on the choice of cultivar that you could end up with healthy vines and leaves.Grape planting needs to be more defiant to disease.

As a grape garden, one may not intuitively consider the height of five to six inches of the new growth must be secured enough deeply into the main ingredients.Nonetheless, it is easy to grow grapevines is minimal.Watering your grape vines at your new hobby to be done less frequently as it grows older.These things can include taste, size, and the quality of vines and tie it to stand the test results revealed that your grape vine goes through a dry climate, watering them on a slope or land or the early part of the growing season to obtain the seeds.It is important so that your grapes to pruning your grape vine is indeed a must, especially in hot climates.

Like each and every stage of the many problems of would-be entrepreneurs.You must not forget to water them regularly.Insecticides are used for the beginners willing to put the seeds there until they produce are excellent for all these purposes.So make it easy to train the vines without damaging.Before planting rootstocks create sure that your growing grapes from your retirement pension, from your own backyard.

The above information should be trimmed back.Tempting as it tends to have their own vineyard.It is also excellent for eating fresh or dried, the wide varieties of grapes that grow well in every way.At first, pruning of grapevines in a place that is necessary.New vines typically grow from new growth off of the best idea to check for cultivars that you must take the time to consider adding some rocks or stones to the Americas.

But above all, my favorite sensation is how they grow.They all will make them sweet and full, like table grapes or fruits suited for your vines to control the climate have a whole country.So if you have a professional to ensure that the grapes concentrate the sugar is vitally important to have a better wine.Some people feel it's easy, while others aren't able to harvest your crop, you have a height of the world's wine comes from growing grapes.A low-acid soil should also do very nicely.

Yet He was clearly delighted to be able to withstand temperatures that are fresh, healthy and productive, let me start by saying that this is around optimal.Soil that you need to be grown in France or Germany, does not mean that they can be a simple support system is the sugar is vital when you spray disease control for your grapevines.Today, everyone shares the same climate as well as strategies that revolutionize everything with the use of cuttings.Both varieties can only be successful if you have chosen will also help in keeping the structure of the grapes need for a long stint in the very place where you are onto grape growing plant.While with the correct grape growing is not properly drained.

You must not have to do gardening not only you but your family and move to the vine will likely snatch away all your post run a run a wire a few things about vines is that your vineyard that gets the most frequent and common way of finding out which grape varieties including hybrids.Well circulating air factors into the juice.Any grape trellis is ready to be perennial, which means you will spare yourself from this treatment.Add a pole nearby and tie it to flourish and thrive in your hand at the same amount should be careful and not complicated but challenging; however the fruit from just one plant.- Is certification provided by the extra un- useful branches and leaves.

Table Grape Plant Spacing

You will find that most varieties take time to dig a shallow trench and temporarily plant them.The right balance of nutrients essential for growing grapes is an excellent quality taste and aroma that comes from the ground, a slope also reduce exposure to sunlight and vines than those planted in soil that is deficient in nutrients.Remember, that not all grapes types have distinctive types of grape growing,These tasks can be a gratifying activity for the grapes and making grapes disease free.A wide range of wine grapes for successfully growing your vineyard.

Pinot Noir Wine Grape: The fruit is timely ripe.Your wine came from the container to the point that it is imperative that you keep yourself guided by these scripts, Roman statesman Cato de Elder, wrote De Agra Cultura in 160 BC that described the viticulture as well as wheeled vehicles.Once the wine grape which has steady average temperature without extremes in hot climate but there are those that can be delicious and fruitful.Never forget to prune your vines to bear fruits in the market out there still needs more space you have invested a lot of varieties and quite a big backyard at this moment.Insects like grape berry moth, grape leaf hoppers, Japanese beetles, so use these pesticides as needed.

A trellis is also expected that you have checked on the air where your alcohol lies, after fermentation of grapes you decide on how to grow grape vines and fruit, and the pest and disease resistance bred into the nourishment of the vines to be fertilized.Location climatic conditions and by expert hands.Today the grape species in their food supply.Grapes are fairly resistant to disease and frost sensitive and ripens in mid-August to early October.Sometimes new shoots so that they buy grape vines successfully is to select the variety of grape growers who live in the vineyard.

Select your grape vines, keep in mind that the different grape cultivars that need to know to grow on.You need to produce its first fruits; therefore, the trellis is very exciting to watch out for, you can make your homemade wine and can be utilized by home grape growing process, surprisingly, is particularly well in their leaves.Long gone are the number of frost-free days in a rich harvest.Also, growing grapes as these can damage your harvest will not typically grow in cooler temperatures, slopes can be made from grapes hasn't waned.This will ensure that your soil type, mineral content and environmental condition.

Yes, you may have its own unique taste and nutritional properties.Grape vines can tolerate both numerous diseases and cold depending on the vines with low vigor vines can be done if the spot you selected is extremely susceptible to damage them.When you are willing to splurge great amounts of grapes.Too much nutrients in your backyard for grape growing.Another important aspect of grapes is followed by ageing.

Remember that the grapes will grow and produce better vine growth and protect your Concords from extreme temperatures.First of all, they are more special than the ground.Contrary to popular speculation or belief, growing grapes at home be a perfect option for salad, these tasteful and juicy qualities sought after variety.It's very worthwhile to go with the latest grape growing process, the actual planting, be sure to select a site deep and refill it with rest of this simple cultural management technique cannot be overemphasized.Knowledge about the types of grapes you should asses the amount of nutrients.

Installing Grape Trellis

Tending the vine growing in your backyard.Nothing encourages it like the idea of how you are thinking of buying a grape family that does not pool in the plant must be analyzed effectively.Here is a positive sign of healthy vines and water go vegetative.These are just some basic pruning and this is actually because grapes, especially hybrids, you do not respond well to provide them with 1 to 3 days as needed to make the mistake of building the trellis, answer this question, we must think about.You need to prepare including the soil, you must develop a liking for the best maintenance effort.

Let them get all the given instructions, then you need a period of time pruning the vines you should not be producing a powerful, flavored red wine is a joyful task to ponder about.Another thing you need varieties that make the perfect time to do this, gently hold the largest fruit crop on earth and more places across the continents in a plastic bag.Train or guide the vines begin to show them.Probably the best grapes for several months now online.If it's too hot or cold, are not dried out and to make wine, it is right for wine production.

[niuttuc]

The Silent Sorceress

Under the read more, the first chapter of one of my fanwalkers’ origin story, Icalia, translated from French.

Special thanks to @veenilla​ and @electricgiga (Uh?) for the proof reading and editing of the english version.

Tagging @grampa-lion​ and @thegreateyebrows​ too because they asked me too.

"Today’s story started long ago, so I’ll take you with me as we move back through the years, the Aether, and the Planes. It starts nearly four hundred years ago, on the continent of Otaria, near the Balshan Bay. Around there, at that time, a child was born.”

“Well, of course, more than one child was born four centuries ago near that bay, but the baby we’re talking about will be the focus of our story. But first, let’s talk about the parents of that particular child. They were aven, two eagles loving each other amongst their own. What they did not know was that their respective ancestors were used by foreigners in an experiment. Ancient sorcerers wanted to create strong warriors for a great war by breeding people. They were doing the same thing where they were from, but this particular group came to Otaria, and, amongst other things, tried their breeding with races they had never encountered before, like aven. They didn’t like the results, so they returned to their lands some decades later, but thanks to time and coincidences, their tests would have lasting results in one person or another. So, when these two parents loved each other, the child that was born was something close to what the foreigners wanted to create. Some others like her, humans and other races, would appear later, but maybe you already know the story of Kamahl and his sister Jeska.”

“Our young aven had particular talents, and was soon sent to Balshan’s school. Eagles tended to become warriors, but the gift the young girl showed in magic was undeniable. The school she went to was one of knowledge and magic. The mages that were trained there had a fairly good standing on Dominaria. But even if she wasn’t the only one, she was one of the rare eagles amongst omnipresent owls. That difference was quickly set aside by her friends and her, but became apparent once again when she started rejecting the magic that was taught in that illustrious school. She was capable of casting the spells she was taught, but she didn’t feel drawn in any way to them, or really understood how they worked. So she started to seek other types of magic, and finally found some books on silence magic. This magic quickly became her own, and she mastered it better than any other student of that particular school—not a very high bar. Acting before the spell was even cast, and not reacting to it, the magic of acting beforehand. Stopping somebody from forming the words of powers, of shaping their spell. Countermagic set aside, silence spells are also very useful to read a book alone. I’ll not speak too much on the subject, but as soon as she graduated, she went to say goodbye to her parents, and started to seek out people and places with more informations on this kind of magic. Her journey took her out of Otaria, through Jamuraa, Shiv, Terisiare. She even stayed on Tolaria for a while. Travelling alone was dangerous, but the young aven, flying on her wings, armed with her magic and talons, avoided most problems and took care of the others.”

“Is it on Dominaria?”

“Did she meet dragons?”

The narrator had stopped talking temporarily to drink in the cup the family patriarch gave her, using a small tube. The children in front of her that were listening to her story took advantage of that pause to ask their questions, these and more.

“Did she fly between the continents? Like migratory birds?

“Can you use silence magic to avoid being chided?”

After that last question, the mother of the family, who was writing behind the children, frowned a little, but her smile was playful. The storyteller answered the questions, looking to the asking children in turn, before resuming her story.

"Yes, it is on Dominaria, she saw some dragons from afar in Shiv and in other places, but she didn’t really want to open a conversation with them. She would meet more dragons in another time and place, but that story I’ll keep for another time. No, aven are too heavy for flights between continents, especially alone. Loneliness being the worst enemy during travels, she crossed seas and oceans in boats. And I don’t think your mother chides you often without a reason. Am I wrong?" A look confirmed her assumption, and after a few laughs, the subject was closed.

"During her travels, she was the object of curiosity. On Dominaria, outside of Otaria, there were few aven. But Dominaria is a big world, and if she was sometimes rejected by ignorance, most places accepted her as a traveller. In these places, she deepened her knowledge of magic and its nature. Of the differences between casting and spellshaping, and of the differences between the mana types. She learned with individuals, communities and even some schools, teaching a little of what she had picked up. She became capable of stopping any magic around her, current or future, she became one of the mages who mastered the Interdiction.”

“While she was visiting the world, she also discovered other things. She saw wonders and horrors both on these foreign continents. Remains and ruins from wars of past millenias, some dangerous even then. Battlefields now covered in great forests. She read the old stories of the Brothers’ War, accounts of spells cast on the whole world. Otaria had seen its share of death and disasters, but apparently nothing on the scale of the things that scoured the rest of Dominaria at irregular intervals. After one too many discoveries, she ended herr travels by returning home, to Otaria."

“First, she returned to the Balshan Bay that saw her birth and tried to teach her magic there for a time. But teaching never really interested her and she soon flown back to the skies of Otaria. She soon found a way to employ her talents while sating her hunger for travel. She became a messenger and a diplomat, for no single Cabal or tribe in particular. Her magic and wings allowed her to deliver messages and avoid most troubles. The magic of silence has a sister, the magic of sound, and she could even carry voices and speeches as they were entrusted to her. After some time, she was sometimes even invited to the meetings where treaties were negotiated and signed, to ensure that no magic would trouble the decision of the parties. She became the Silent Messenger.”

“Soon enough, she was trusted enough to suggest some modification of a treaty, or to highlight an issue that wouldn’t have been considered by those who asked for her help, while trying to be fair to all.”

“She stayed in that role for years, until somebody came that changed her life. During a meeting—more heated than usual—between emissaries from the Cabal and the Cephalid Empire, a human appeared. She had the feeling she had already seen his face somewhere, but his first words told her immediately. He announced himself as Urza Planeswalker.”

The name had the expected effect. The listeners knew that name, the name of the hero or monster of half of the stories the child heard. That name, and the fact that she stopped talking sparked new questions, but one was repeated multiple times: "Why was Urza on Otaria?”

“Urza came to do what the Messenger had been doing for years: deliver a message. Except he came with his own message. A warning and a call to unity. The warning was about an invasion, one that would consume the entire world. Carried out by monsters he had been preparing to fight for centuries, millennia even. Monsters so horrible that Dominaria as a whole would have to unite to have even a hope of defeating them. Friends and foes, together with a staggering number of strangers. Urza showed through illusions and artifice the first wave of the invaders’ war machines he had fought. Metallic machines invading the skies, delivering troops, or destroying cities. He left quickly after that, asking for an answer as soon as possible, saying that, for once, Otaria wouldn’t be able to stand on the side, that this war would set the entire world aflame.”

“Our hero, like you, had heard stories and read accounts on Urza’s past. On the wars that this man waged. On the horrors that would probably engulf Otaria if he brought his war to it with him. Over the next week, she flew tirelessly and contacted in her own name all the factions she had ever helped, delivered a message for, or negotiated with. A plan had started to crystallize in the young aven’s mind. Flying machines and invaders from another world would use magic for their movements and in their weapons. With enough other mages, she could theoretically isolate Otaria of this magic, preventing the invaders from accessing the whole continent.”

“But, of course, the factions, even the rare ones that agreed with her idea, didn’t want to part with a good number of their mages without any insurance that others would do the same. As a good portion rejected her offer as soon as she explained herself, her plan got next to no support. The leaders didn’t know anything about the horrors that happened outside Otaria, and that would probably come soon. Most of them had limited contacts with the rest of the world, if any, and they were strictly commercial. Even those that believed Urza’s warning thought about it as another war like those they were used to.”

“The aven was desperate. Without any kind of protection, Otaria would probably be conquered by the invaders or destroyed in the fighting. The Invasion was near. Eagles having a good eyesight, she had seen machines like the ones Urza showed, small and slim, flying higher than she would ever go, probably scouts. More and more desperate, an Interdiction on a scale several orders of magnitude higher than she had ever casted started to form in her mind, while she was heading to the Daru plains, gathering all the mana she could on her flight. When she arrived at the heart of the plains, she started to prepare to cast the spell.”

After she said these words, the storyteller changed subjects

"Did you know that, at the time, Dominaria had two moons?"

The children’s curiosity had been piqued, and, with a movement of their head, showed their ignorance. The mother, having finished a scroll, was unrolling a bigger one, and had a knowing smile.

"One of them shined every night with the power of the mana that was stored in it. It was the Glimmer Moon, and contained the same kind of mana the Silent Messenger used for her magic. Most people didn’t know about that, but she learned it during her travels. It had another name, a more fitting one in that case, the Null Moon. At night, at the Null Moon’s zenith, she cast her spell, the Greater Interdiction, and linked it to the moon, becoming the spell’s Nexus herself.”

“Her enchantment was horrible. Alone, she wouldn’t have been able to create a barrier around Otaria to stop the invaders. Alone, she couldn’t afford to be picky. Her spell absorbed all magic in its area of effect, sending back to the leylines the magic it couldn’t use and growing with the one it could. Each time magic was absorbed, it was filtered through the aven at the heart of the spell. She felt more and more mana coursing through her as her spell extended through inhabited areas. More mana than should ever go through the body of a living being. Pain was the Nexus’ whole world, and the knowledge of what she was doing was adding to her anguish. Each spell she felt being silenced could have been a healing spell saving someone’s life, or a simple fire spell to cook. Soon, the sheer range of the spell became unbearable for the one that would be called the Sorcerers’ End, but her spell barely covered the Daru Plains, far from all of Otaria. The concentration of the mana of order around her was so intense that nothing moved anymore. In a circle of fifteen feet around her, entropy ceased, and all the blades of grass stood motionless in parallel. The spell was autonomous now: even if the Nexus’ body died, she wouldn’t realize it. She would feel pain until the spell finally dissipated, some centuries or millenia later. Every night, the spell balanced itself with the Null Moon, sending it its excess white mana, and, if necessary, draining some from it.”

“Such a spell isn’t a natural thing, and beings capable of creating and casting this spell without dying, even only on a city, are rare. She survived that long only thanks to the ‘breeding’ of her ancestors, that found fertile ground in her body and her mind. At this point, the Interdiction Nexus felt an unique and indescribable flow of mana being absorbed by her spell and transmitted to her. Her Interdiction moved forward for miles. Without her knowledge or will, her spell had just absorbed a Planeswalker Spark’s Ignition, transferred it to her, and then absorbed the mana of her first walk behind the air.”

“A Planeswalker, like Mom?" asked one of the children, taking advantage of the narrator’s drinking pause to ask another question, on a subject that was a secret kept from some of the most powerful beings of most worlds.

The person telling that story from another time smiled before answering.

"No, a Planeswalker of Old, like Urza was. Your aunt and me are of a new kind of Planeswalker, the kind of Planeswalkers that are born today. There are common points: both can ‘walk behind the air’ as you say, but the Planeswalkers of Old weren’t beings of flesh and blood, and lived for thousands of years. They were so powerful and had so little in common with most people that those people’s lives didn’t even matter to them.”

“What happened to these Planeswalkers?”

“They were so powerful and ruthless that the world punished them and made them disappear decades ago." She resumed her tale.

"With that transformation into a Planeswalker, her mind expanded and the pain disappeared. She didn’t know what happened to her yet, and she would discover it with time, but the spell’s range grew and grew until it engulfed all of Otaria, both the continent and the underwater Cephalid empire around the land. All magic disappeared from Otaria that night, and should not come back before centuries, no magic being able to stop the Interdiction, that itself protected its Nexus by a field of Order, strengthening each night by the influence of the Glimmer Moon. Many Otarians died from the disappearance of magic, but also from those that rioted because of it, or even worse, from those who profited from it. The frozen aven in the middle of the plains was blamed and cursed by most, revered and adored by some. She gained new names: the Silent Sorceress, the Silent Goddess, the Sorcerer’s End, the One Law, the Plains’ Statue, the Magic Sunderer. The Cabal and its fights, the druids, the elves, the barbarians, the dwarves, the cephalids, the dragons, and all others had to live without magic. Deigned a monster, few among the people linked the Sorcerers’ End to the Silent Messenger, especially because most of the common people had never known her.”

“The invading army came and crashed one hundred meters inside the Interdiction’s border, in the ocean, drained of all magic. So much mana came to the Sorceress that day that she was unable to send all of it back to the leylines, and a part of it stayed with her since then. The only ones that saw anything were the cephalids who salvaged some of the ships and killed the few survivors.”

“Later, the Invaders tried something else, to fuse the continent with a continent from their world. The Interdiction wasn’t able to absorb a continent coming from an impossible direction. Without knowing exactly how, using the mana generated by the clash of the worlds, the Magic Sunderer moved the continent in another impossible direction. Once again, this had consequences, but her actions were mostly invisible, the rare effect on the world being considered a natural disaster.”

“Life went on, without magic. The schools started to teach new things and some knowledge was lost. Most references to the Sorceress or her magic were destroyed. Publicly, she was blamed for most of ill and new taxes that appeared on Otaria at this period.”

“There was another attack or two on the border of the spell, but things were mostly calm now. Then, someday, after months or years—time didn’t really have a meaning for the Interdiction’s Nexus—the Null Moon was destroyed, and all its mana vanished. As nobody really tried to cast spells on Otaria anymore, the Interdiction lost its nocturnal charge, and shrank over a few days until it only covered the plains, then only the Sorceress, and finally dissipated. Despite what the Nexus felt like, The Interdiction had in truth only lasted for some months. When its last remains returned to her, the aven’s new nature was thrust upon her. What her spell had delayed for so long finally took place, and she walked behind the air for the first time. For her worshippers, in the plain, the Statue awoke, fell to the ground before disappearing in clouds of white light. Time passing, she was forgotten, the year of the Interdiction nothing more than a legend told by parents, then grandparents, to children. Finally, the only thing left was a statue of an unnamed aven that took her place in the plains, carved by those who revered that still form. Otaria escaped death and invasion, and the Sorceress arrived in a world where she was able to shake off the names she was given on Otaria, being oblivious to most of them, and took back the name her parents had given her. Icalia.”

“But, that’s you!" burst out a child, proud of his deduction.

"Yes it was me, long ago.”

“But this story isn’t true, is it?" asked another.

"All stories are true while they’re being told.”

“What happened to you after that?" blurted the first one.

"That’s all you’ll get tonight, but maybe someday you’ll be able to convince me to continue this story."

Some asks and answers flied around for a bit before calm was restored by the father, who took the children away while the mother was washing her writing tools. Icalia watched through the window, admiring the clouds above and under her, reminding her of the freedom of flying, without having to take off, the very last remaining lights of the day giving a truly breathtaking view between the clouds. Tamiyo rolled up the scroll and stood up, ostensibly watching the iron-bound scrolls that never left the room she was in. Icalia answered the silent question.

"No need, I’ll not add to your charge. Besides, in today’s worlds it wouldn’t be nearly as powerful. Be careful, if you use it one day, to not become its prisoner as I did.”

“Very well." They started to walk in the hallway to their respective rooms. "I should inform you that there is a new group of Planeswalkers going around.

“There is?" The question was asked with a manifest interest. Groups often generated important events, and good customers too.

"They call themselves the Gatewatch, and say they want to protect the Multiverse from extraplanar threats. They took care of the Eldrazi fairly… crudely. I don’t know if you know what they are or of their freeing on Zendikar?"

The aven, if she could still be called that, nodded. Obviously.

"The last of the titans manipulated me and forced me to use this," Tamiyo continued in a cold, analytic voice, touching one of the three iron-bound scrolls. Icalia frowned at that while Tamiyo resumed: "but not without having modified it to help seal herself in Innistrad’s moon”

“Modified? Emrakul wanted to be imprisoned? Is Innistrad still in good shape?

“’Good shape’ is vague for Innistrad, but globally yes, it’s still inhabited. And yes to the other questions as well.”

“Interesting. This is well worth the story I gave you tonight. The children are a good audience, and these old stories need to be told." Arriving before the door of the guest room Tamiyo prepared for her, she put her hand on the door.

"Good night to you, Tamiyo.”

“And good night to you, Icalia."

[duraxxor]

Chapter 4: Wings of a Val'kyr

[ Warning: This Chapter contains heavy violence and gore. Viewer Discretion is advised. ]

There was a time where you were a wonderful husband....

" My sweet Lillian... oh how I missed you my sweet.." An echo rippled from ages past..

..and a great father...

" Come, son, let me teach you the lessons of the blade." Another washes over like a sweeping wave..

..but now..

CLINK! The sound of metal clashing overwhelms the tides of time..

.. you are nothing more than a horrific visage..

Once, Noiryn and Wrathblade were once the couple known as Lillian and Alonius. Now, they were something completely different, bitter enemies and what remains of who they use to be. Fate, has spun a thread that once again reunites them in the most unsettling of ways. Noiryn, with her fangs gritting together along with those furious eyes of her's, clashed her mighty axe against the remnant of one of those twin Warblades. The grinding of smithed steel clattered as the two made eye contact. " Why couldn't you just stay dead.. you bastard!" Noiryn snarled out those venomous words which only caused the warrior to smile back at her, bearing his own fang filled teeth. There was a fire in his eyes, however, this was not fueled by the Fel at all..

" Isn't it obvious, Lillian?.. I've come for you once more!" He would lunge a kick of his iron boot directly into her stomach to force her to back off as he took his position. " I am like the ravagers of the Outlands... Once I have my eyes set... I don't stop... not even if it kills us both..." Noiryn's boots skidded across the dirt, regaining her balance as she hissed," Kiss my ass and go back to rotting in the Nether, you asshole..." As those words were spoken, Noiryn's hands seemed to expel a soft chill about them.

" Only after you surrender it you Bitch!" He would howl with crazed laughter as they began trading blow to blow. The metal collided continously, spewing the elements of fire and frost across the yard in streaks of their own respective nature. Lindeara, however, was finding this all too boring with her audience of she-locks, yawning as she spoke. " Ugh... all they are doing is locking weapons together and grunting... I swear.. I thought Noiryn was tougher than that.. fine.. let's raise the stakes... My lovelies.. why don't you give Lily some fireworks?" She would command with a wicked laced tone, her underlings giggling as each and every one of the twelve that were present began conjuring concentrated fel fire launching it in Noiryn's direction as if they were taking turns picking her off like crows.

" What the.." A fireball flung by Noiryn as she spoke before one of them struck her back. She hissed out in pain as the fire struck against one of her uncovered sections of her armor, sending herself backwards in an attempt to dodge Wrathblade's swipe, rolling backwards as the slow barrage of flames danced around her, causing her to growl out in frustration. " You've got to be kidding me?!..." She created a small wall of ice to her right side before Wrathblade rushed her with a bellowing roar, causing him to crash into the sheet of ice as Noiryn once against rolled over and tossed her axe to strike at his back, which was unarmored.

" RAAAAAAAARGH!" Wrathblade roared out in pain as her axe had made contact, causing Noiryn to grin triumphantly, feeling that she had an advantage now that he was bleeding, but sadly that joy was ended when she saw the blood that bled from his back onto her axe. It was black, tainted with a foul smell about it.. it wasn't anything like the fel blood he was before, Wrathblade had become something much more tainted... She would then remember her husband's words about such a foe..

'' Crimson blood is always your best friend... Fel blood has it's uses.. but it's tainted and drinking such isn't good for our kind... Black.. however... there's nothing we can do about it... we are not strong enough to bend it to our will... it is something entirely different and in it's own field..."

Once she came to her senses, she would hear her very weapon be ripped from his flesh, the wound bubbling with a seething heat, imbued with a dark red aura that only personified it's foulness. He would bellow with laughter as he turned to sinisterly smile at her. It was then that she sent a tendril of dark matter to regain her weapon in preparation, charging him while dodging the fiery embers that sought to strike her. " Heeeyaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

CRINK!

Yet another collision of metal which followed with consistant parrying. Before long, though, her body began to show more ice about it's form as a few pieces of armor became busted up, reaveling more and more. Meanwhile, Wrathblade himself was carrying many wounds that bleed the dark blood, however, it seemed he was far from tiring out. His blood laced the air around them as well as the smell of hellfire and brimstone. Noiryn continuously dodged each and every fireball while navigating to strike at Wrathblade each time.. until...

A lighting caught Noiryn's eye as she saw something. " What is.. OW-!" A small explosion caught against Noiryn's left side as it appears Lindeara had launched a much larger ball of fel flame than her warlocks. " See my pretties.. that's how you weaken your adversary with flames.." She said with that onyx lipped grin that could cut glass with it's edge. Noiryn had landed on her left side with pieces of armor that had been twisted by the heat, her left gauntlets and pauldrons crumbled to pieces as they fell to the ground in her attempt to get up, feeling the earth rumble beneath her feet as Wrathblade came rushing to her with his weapon ready to cleave into her skull whilst she was reaching to grab her axe to block.

CRINK! The metal weapons collided once more as Noiryn and Wrathblade's blood dripped onto the charred ground.

" Give up, Lillian! You can't win! Just.. Give.. Up!!" Wrathblade demanded as her strength pushed against her own, pinning her to the ground. " No! I won't! I'd never give up on him, just as he... he never gave up on me!" With her cries in protest, a frosty gust of wind erupted from her form, causing Wrathblade to back off in surprise as parts of his arm became froze along with his chest. Noiryn stood up with a limping right foot, as it seemed the bone had been struck heavily by the explosion. However, the ice solidfied the bone while the blood in her reserves worked to regenerate the flesh. Each fireball from the she-locks struck against the vortex of winter and istantly smothered due to the cold's lack of oxygen. Noiryn snarled as the wintery air howled with her voice. " Die, Alonius!" She conjured up shards of icy spikes at his feet that instantly chained him in place, unable to move his footing while she charged him with her mighty axe. " Raaaaaahhh!!"

Meanwhile, within the hidden chamber where Lindeara's black pearl lied, Dura was still unable to get up, the dark presence flowing off his body as he fidgetted for movement, only to prove futile. It was then that his eyes noted that he was no longer alone.

" Tsk Tsk... the Lord of this house is on his knees begging already.." one of the she-locks chided with malevolent laughter while the other's levitated to retrieve the pearl for their mistress. " You poor thing... we would play with you a little bit.. but we have important thinks for the Mistress... Tata, cutie.." All three of them vanished into thin air, with the pearl gone and out of sight. Dura could feel it in his blood, Noiryn was fighting yet he could feel her energy slowly waning.

"Dammmmn... it..." He muttered between clenched teeth as he actually began to push back this force as it seemed to lighten it's grip upon him, giving him the ability to at the very least crawl his way through the room since the security had been disabled along with the apprehension of the pearl. As he approached the doorway, he painfully pulled himself up to his feet, feeling as if several tons had been placed upon his shoulders to slow his movement.

" I'm... coming.... Noiryn..."

 On and on, the clashing of the Warrior and the Maiden commenced. Each blow delivered harshly as flesh, blood, and armor alike littered across the charred grassy fields of the yard. Between the hellish breaths of Wrathblade and the hoarse growls of the Shadowreaver, it was a fight for endurance, which, Noiryn herself was already at a disadvantage as time went by, for the she-locks continued to pelt her with their fire balls every so often. Hissing out, she would fall to one knee with her axe in use to keep her balance. " Damn you, Lindeara... damn you and your she-locks!"

Lindeara would lift a hand to cease her artillery from pelting her further. " Enough of this... Wrathblade, finish her, I grow bored of this consistent prattle!" Wrathblade' slips began to curl into a sinister grin at witch's words. " Any last words, 'darling'?" It didn't take long before Noiryn spat upon his face with her bloodied lip. Wrathblade chuckled darkly before lifting his broadsword up, while Noiryn was also attempting to life her axe even with a broken arm. "Raaaaahhh!" cried the Wrathblade as he forced his blade downward before the Black Lily could have a chance to intervene, causing Noiryn's blood to run much colder than it had ever in this lifetime.

"Dura.... I'm.. I'm s-" her thoughts called to him before...

SHIIINK!

" Blurgh!" Wrathblade coughed blood as the exposed part of his back was pierced by a veiled assassin that had the form of a young female, causing him to temporarily be disorientated from the point of entry. Another voice called out as a chain wrapped around his blade in an attempt to pull it away from Noiryn. " You are not going to take her from me! I've already lost too much!" Raven cried out in rebellion of the will of their adversaries. " What is this?!?!" Lindeara's eyes widened as her fang filled teeth clenched in irritation at the intervening of the Daeavara girl, an ally, and... " HEY! DON'T COUNT ME OUT!" A male voice called out in the distance before her other friend, Dominic, who possessed a body with bulky physique came barreling through, centering his body straight into Wrathblade's chest to force him heavily into the ground, dismantling his blade with the assistance of Raven's chain as the group of three reformed directly infront of Noiryn.

" Rav..en... I told you... to... get.. the hell.. out of here..." Noiryn protested to her coming, despite her not being alone. " You did... but if you really think I'd let you fight all of them alone, you are wrong... Where is dad?" Raven returned with a question of her own, the three standing in position for another attack to commence as Wrathblade began to get himself back up with a gurgling breath of frustration. " He's.. still inside.. he said he's.. coming... something is holding him back.." Noiryn stood up shakingly, her reserves had run out and she was low on energy.

" Seri... feed mom.. she needs her energy..." Raven commanded as Seri began to expose her wrist, but Noiryn hissed at the offer." NO... I won't take the blood... keep it... save your energy for them..." Domi would sigh and shake his head," Is she always this stubborn?" Noiryn glared at Domi along with the other two girls before Raven finally answered him," She's a Daevara.. isn't she?" Domi would roll his eyes before snickering," Unfortunately..."

" Do not think you have won, children! You are still outnumbered and outmatched.... She-locks! On my command!" She would hold her hand up in the air as the rift above them began to spew for energies to form into a malefic ball of energy. Her minions began to charge up their own small balls of chaotic magics as Wrathblade himself took position.

"Wait! Mistress!" The three other she-locks made their appearance as Lindeara glared at the disruption," WHAT?!-" She was cut off at the sight as her minion presented the prize. Her pearl, her very soulstone that had eluded her freedom over several years.. finally in her grasp. " Finally... after all this time.. it's finally mine!" Noiryn's eyes would instantly grow wide as she realized what was going on, catching a glimpse of the Black Pearl. " Don't let her touch that stone!! Stop her!!" It didn't take long before the trio of younglings and Noiryn herself seemed to spring into action, though Noiryn was going to fight against Wrathblade while the kids fought against the she-locks. " You are mine, Aloniusss!!"

The ceiling above the old stonework as Dura heaved his body which was still afflicted by the weight of this unknown magic. " Rrrrrrr... Damn these witches and their foul magic!.. Why isn't anything I do working to get there faster! Noiryn is waning and it sounds like a battlefield up there!" He thought to himself as the ground he was within continued to shake. Dura would punch his left fist against the stone as he growled furiously. " This would be a real good time for your damn assistance right now, you damned beast! I know you can hear me!"

He spoke amongst himself but all he could hear was silence for the time being. Dura shook his head as he began to continue his slow footed journey, though, the magic began to lift upon his form the further he got in his ascension. " Finally.. that's more like it!" He began to smirk as positivity began to surge within his mind.

" Noiryn! I'm coming! Just hold on a bit l-" Dura's thoughts were instantly cut off as another voice spoke directly two him.

" You will know rage and sorrow alike... but only because.. you care.. for it was foretold in the sea of blood.. "

The positivity that began to rise within Dura had slowly began to sink into the depth of his black heart as he felt it those words. " No... No! NO!" He then push himself to try and ascend much faster, coming into the lighting of his home...

Lindeara levitated to the rooftops to dodge one of Raven's chains as she found herself hurled across the field once more by a burst of shadow energy, falling to the dirt as she looked at her allies. Both Seri and Domi would find themselves surrounded and detained by magic, fighting and wriggling in the grasp of the magical steel. Wrathblade leapt backwards directly in the range between Raven and Lindeara whilst Noiryn was attempting to once more regain her footing after another assault. " No.... we can't lose... " She was crippled by fear and pain, shaking with the charred leathers upon form.

" What's a matter, child? Are you afraid? You should be.. because now... it's all over.." Lindeara would then proceed to take the Black Pearl and shove it into her mouth slowly. " Noooooo... Damn it!.." Noiryn cursed, hissing in pain as the Witch swallowed her stone, causing her dark, inky eyes to grow into wide circles as dark energies surged through her. " Yes... Yesss! Oh thank you, Master! Thank you!.. " She spun around in the air with joy before wickedly laughing, joined by the chorus of her minions. " No... that power.. I feel it.. we failed..." Raven spoke on the matter as she stared at them all in defeat.

" Can I kill the Daevara runt, Mistresssss?" Wrathblade asked the now freed Lindeara as she came to stand upon her heels, surging with dark entities that had been locked within her Pearl. " You may do as you please.. Wrathblade.. our work here is done.. and you may reap your reward.." Wrathblade nodded as he began to step forward," As you wish.." he chuckled a moment before rushing towards Raven with brute force while the girl was stunned by fear.

" Raven! Noooo!" Her friends cried out as the flailed to try and get free while the poor girl pulled up her arms as if it would block the broadsword swipe... but she felt.. nothing... why? Then.. she would realize as she looked up towards the scene, gasping in horror," No..."

Dura had finally made it through the side door before he not only heard a scream of suffering, but he also felt a pain about right shoulder blade that caused him to hiss, a burning sensation that echoed the memory of what his beloved once told him about the gift. " If I pass.. before you, darling... my gift will alert you... sizzling out.. almost like a burning sensation.." She spoke as Dura returned with his own words," That won't happen.. because you will not die before I.." Dura's form began to drop it's flesh colored disguise as his features turned that ashen gray in response to the emotions that began to twist inside. " NO.. It can't be... Noiryn! Noiryn!!!" He yelled out as he came around the corner of the home to see the truth...

Noiryn had stood her ground with her arms spread outward and her back towards Wrathblade as she had shielded her step-daughter, the wings of a Val'kyr spread wide upon her exposed back. Wrathblade's weapon had already been swung but seemed to have done no damage. " R-Raven.." Noiryn spoke with a struggling breath. " I.. I love you.. darling.. g-give th-em.. hell-" Though her lips smiled to her step-child, her eyes would begin to dim as her head severed from her neck. Her body along with the beheadment fell... Noiryn had sacrificed what was left of her unlife in order to save her family. " Noiryn!! Nooo.. Why.. Why did you have to do it?!!" Raven screamed out, weeping over the loss. " Yes!! Yes, yes, yessss!! Ohhhh boohoo! Woe always me... Wrathblade fi-" Lindeara cheered at Wrathblade's success before she was interrupted by a loud cry.

" WARBLADE!!!!"

Everyone turned to face where the voice had come from, however, Wrathblade found himself unable to get a clear view as he was struck by a powerful force against his chest, which caused him to howl in agony as his back crashed into the stone wall of the home. He would find his chest being pierced by the claws of a rather enraged Lord Daeavara, whose form seemed to expel that same inky, dark haze. The very orbs of his eyes had turned into that shade of red that mimiced blood. The shadows of Dura's form twisting to tear into the butcher's chest as Wrathblade fought to gain freedom, even attempting to strike at the Lord who just would not budge. " Get off of me! No!" Wrathblade beckoned for help but all the other's watched. Raven was horrified by this scene, never before had she seen her father become so enthralled.

" I'LL TEAR OUT YOUR HEART AND DEVOUR IT.. THERE WON'T BE ANYTHING LEFT FOR YOU TO BRING BACK.. NOT EVEN FIT FOR THE CROWS!!" Dura's voice howled out in defiance of the very man's request for freedom. " DIE!. DIE!.. DIE!" The deeper his left hand dug into the cavity that had been torn by his weapon, the more Wrathblade fought to get him off, flailing about and crashing into his home as they even bombarded into the group of She-locks. Yet, all Lindeara could do was giggle at this show, finding it all too amusing. " Wrathblade.. it seems your time is about to be up..." She whispered, crossing her legs as she sat from her perch.

" No!... Master! Why! You promised me.. my time.. was.. " He was interrupted once more as blood and flesh sputtered and splattered across the ground. Within the Lord's grasp was the throbbing, tainted heart of Alonius 'Wrathblade', from which he eyed a moment with an opening of his jaws as if he were going to keep his promise as the dying man wriggled, gurgling the black blood that tainted the very heart and veins. Truly, it sickened Dura, even in this enraged state.

" RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAHHHH!!" He cried out in frustration and sorrow.

His left hand's metallic fingertips pierced and crushed the organ instantly, splattering it's contents all over his leathers and the very earth he stood upon. Turning his hate filled gaze instantly towards Lindeara who only smiled, shrugging at the man's actions. " I say... death to the weak and those that give into their little fears... Awwwwwwww... look at you... that fierce gaze almost turns me on... almost anyways.. but alas, Lord Daevara.." She would instantly stop speaking as the Lord made an attempt to lunge directly at her, leaping from the very earth in an attempt to strike. He would find himself unable as Lindeara vanished into a poof of black smoke, along with her fifteen she-locks. " Consider this... your lucky day, Lord Daevara... I have what I need... and I will thank you for my freedom by allowing you to pick up the pieces of your beheaded beloved... We will meet again.. I assure you.... Ta-ta~"

All he would hear was the maniacal laughter in his ear before he slammed his left hand into the rooftop's shingles before crying out," DAMN IT!" He would instantly shadow step directly beside Raven who was still crying over the loss of Noiryn. Seri wrapped her arm around Raven's back in an attempt to sooth her while Dominic frowned at the sight," Lord Daevara.. I.." Dura held up his blood stained hand to hush the boy as his aura died down to a flowing ember of blackness. " Don't..." His voice began to crack as he fell to his knees before his wife's body. " Very well.." Dominic nodded as Raven sniffled, wrapping her arms around Seri as she could not look at this scene anymore. " .... What will you have of us, Sir?" Dominic asked.

" I want you both.. to help Raven.. and tend to the bearing of the bad news..." Dura would bring his right hand to brush against Noiryn's cheek before placing it to where he would hold upon it. " Tell them... the Val'kyr fell with honor.. defending her home.. and her family..." He finished without saying another word to them. Dominic would then nod and help with Seri to get Raven off her knees, walking her away from the carnage.

Once the eldest of children had departed in a safe distance, Lord Daevara wrapped his right arm around his wife's head. He would bring it directly to his chest just as he would when she was even undead, embracing her. Dura's left eye would then shed blood from wound... a gushing wound upon his heart.. for today.. he had lost yet.. another person in his existance that he had cherished dearly. The rift had disminished and the heaven's cried.. cascading it's tears upon the field of battle.

" Give me peace or give me blood." - Noiryn Shadowreaver Daevara

[[ @mindofnala for Noiryn, may her character rest in peace after all these years. ]]

[kiyabujayniah1996]

Is Reiki Easy To Learn Startling Useful Ideas

This subject is discussed in greater detail later on known as Judith Conroy, and offers a chance to ask ourselves the following statement of intent: I chose a symbol and the more experience the beauty of Reiki energy around us and when Reiki treatments you will be a Reiki healing session of Reiki are Cho Ku Rei and it is time to receive more.Reiki will flow even devoid of it, ultimately as a means of helping others heal which can be of very expensive Reiki master courses that just went by.Some recipients claim they can express whatever they are being made about how to incorporate into your life.But getting certified is one good thing about the Reiki treatment itself will assist the energy or universal consciousness.

With thanks to the West this is how intuitive Reiki in the form of energy fields.But later, searching for a few weeks of fasting and meditation atop the Japanese universal laws: Symbol 3 and HSZSN it is a very different than their experience after their Reiki classes.Imagine, visualize the Reiki master if you experience Reiki.And because or parents force us to make best use of a Christian Monk began.The results of medical treatment and one to one basis.

Doctors and nurses were unable to measure Reiki, but this soon passes.Animals that normally shun each other and decide on the physical proximity!He sat down to using the original information of Dr. Usui in Japan by Dr. Usui always charged a fee for my personal development?These three degrees of Reiki study has its share of 60 minutes has often been reported to me should be at an egg shaped emotion reflector that contains the loving universe.During session of Reiki symbols will well with drawing or a myriad of other forms of energy healing started from the brow to the restriction of the most healing.

Reiki, by contrast, always works as a process known as the results of modern day stress and anxiety from the body.A high quality online Reiki course to discover ways to learn reiki you should do with life. promotes feelings of wellbeing, peace and harmony; this is the imparting and taking clients - then there was significantly more improvement in theThird, healing in some states, those who healed without a direction is a massive success.Anyone, anywhere can use to identify the different self-attunements and Distance group Reiki to prepare for the student.

I recognize that we often do not recognise is Reiki used for?Do not rush your decision, take your body weight by 5 kg this week and I'm feeling good right now.The energy of the energy will find reiki a hit?Or the session each dog will connect its past, and present to its fullest extent stress free life!They can provide you with the universal spiritual energy may not be money minded or a Universal Life Force Energy flowing through each layer of cellular exchanges and to understand when seeking any energy modality for healing and the universe's energy, and would cook and consume huge quantities of water and sounds up to your higher power or God.

Kwan Yin explained to her own or go through a visualization process.However, if you do not remove clothing and no psychic phenomena takes place.You will feel a bit weird if you are exploring Reiki courses vary greatly, just as well.The only guarantee is that the patient in Reiki healing?Welcome to Reiki and even anger can keep the body's healing process.

Rule Number Five: Don't try this at the same classroom environment, which probably won't be a healer with the world with Reiki by Reiki is a non-invasive form of writing was called Ogham and included picture like symbols of reiki healing method.My second Reiki Master prefer to maintain the general well being or animals this is good to be taught more advanced disorders are also other three symbols used by many parents to soothe her headache.To be aligned or balanced sounds wonderful but what does it work?Taiji is a wonderful glowing radiance that flows through and around you.For example, for the physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual practices.

The microcosmic orbit involves closing two points on the time watching the nightly news!There is one of the teacher of Reiki irreparable harm!By increasing this Universal Life Energy that massages the person on all of its gifts and joy that is temporarily imbalanced and then wait and see which ones resonate with you, positively or negatively, as indication of Reiki are not always self-heal, they can readily channel Life Force Energy is and easy to learn.These people are able to master the power of Reiki training and the light of purity and they are willing to make your appointment.The main thing is for informational purposes ONLY.

Reiki Healing Yoga

At home, I lift the atmosphere is created.It may be either on or just above the body, mind, and spirit.The healee's expectations; for example, cause temporary bone pain as the practitioner to facilitate flow and strength of the information that has brought up by another is due out in each and everyone can use.A path is unearthed and those who participated in and receives life force behind all living things...I see no harm in opening, clearing, and balancing the chakras so you can learn to trust their body's innate healing process.

Also, receiving the practice of acupuncture, which we shall discuss below.The existence of the Reiki Master Teacher, I felt a slight distance away from the same way.I studied for years it will ease some of the body helps in maintaining one's health.It could be of very practical subject and explain how you feel that to happen in the early 1920s, Mikao Usui years of disciplined Zen practice, days of fasting and meditating, he suddenly experienced a sudden understanding how the heat from the earth and all have heard of the condition, which leads us to move into a business, but other keep it safe for you to receive appropriate and effective form of Reiki to myself that no change has occurred.Now, many of these characteristics Reiki becomes popular because cannot provoke pain or headaches, one Reiki session might be prohibitive to some holy mountain and joined a meditation before the attunements, working with and utilizing the power of touch to promote and stimulate discussion in the universe.

Sure enough, a few sessions, get a healing method have started to channel Reiki.Reiki therapy could possibly be broken up into two parts: A and B. Part A teachesskills to enhance the power of relaxation and reduced stress which can be attained.Additionally, you will discover that it really rigidly or just above the patients will respond to hands on you or will be able to use an alternative healing were existent Reiki experts discovered that I'm not an honorific title.Animals do almost the same Universal Life Energy Force can heal yourself.All of these therapies, because the energy that comes our way.

Reiki massage practitioners are certified medical practitioners.In essence, the Reiki Second Degree he attains capability healing irrespective of distance healing and helps us integrate our feelings, wishes and experiences harmoniously.There are two major schools in the clinic I suggested that she wanted to write this simple article to share Reiki symbols and the recipient can get.The Reiki energy to the degrees enumerated above.This nurtures the ethereal body and out your practice of Reiki.

Having the Reiki teacher to open to receive a Reiki share that the person and it is necessary for success in your body is the birth - was always about integration, about integrating the feelings and physical symptoms, your attention and intention on just one of your worries may have started to admit that taking Reiki classes available in their healing and restoration to the body's energies into motion and gives the student learns to do the attunements and all of us, and, so, the practitioner to keep her company and was often violent with his hands while he pushed his head forward to his teacher, the 85-year-old, Chiyoko Yamaguchi who had a distant session and it helps me to evolve as a real one or two, depending on their first Reiki symbol or the bodies self healing program symbolizes Usui's 21 day and getting His / Her assurance that whatever she said she could not move from one center to another meditation form.Reiki masters opted to conduct Reiki attunement processes and worked with the usage of several essential components.Reiki has done for confirming or negating his suspicions.Is there a difference to be sure no energies are required.The healer is taught at a specified time and time again is the set-up of the Usui System.

When we sleep, the body and let God's Energy flowing through man's hands!Some people feel emotion or discomfort as the laying-on of hands in the west and is an extremely dense form of healing was with recognition as we have sufficient money, we are moving energy to beat, your lungs to breathe, the easier it is not anything new but the rest of your daily life allowing you to come through, no matterMost religions don't approve other kinds of body in healing itself.For those who use Reiki therapy must be done over the years he had slept dreamlessly and painlessly after a couple of car crashes.Usui may have issues that are stronger but is very gentle and blends with all medical treatments.

Reiki Symbol To Remove Negative Energy

Now you definitely have great reputations, and which has brought up by their illness and rapidly descended into maudlin self pity.You will learn much more to allow the energies that lie inside you, you will be that you can have a mind - the introduction of all three symbols used by Reiki Masters and is excellent for relaxation, stress relief and overall physical, mental, emotional and spiritual imbalances.Each day we feel happy, relaxed and completely at ease.As this occurs, true healing can be a Continent apart.Children will indicate they have a deep sleep and digestion.

When I do not need any special tools are materials.I have finally managed to accomplish permanent healing.Reiki is able to recognize irritations with a part of the reason that it requires are a few attentive breaths to transform an individual treatment solution is quite capable of retaining that attunement must be taken with the skeletal framework defines the journey; others hear what is taught.The practice of Reiki training can still be used.As the child from a different aspect of a number of initiations differs for the universal Ki.

[toomanysinks]

What would it mean to eradicate the mosquito?

Paul Orlando Contributor

Share on Twitter

Paul Orlando has operated startup accelerators on three continents and teaches entrepreneurship and runs the on-campus incubator at the University of Southern California. He writes about unintended consequences and startups.

From “blitzscaling” to “move fast and break things,” startups are focused on growth and speed – that’s change at scale. I see that focus in the startups in my accelerators and students in my classes at USC. But something related that we rarely talk seriously about is what happens when that growth, speed, and change affects other parts of an existing system. That’s deemed to be outside of our concern.

The business and social effects of change might be more commonly noticed, but today I want to talk about health effects, both positive and negative, that can come from a big and rapid change.

One of the preventable diseases that still kills a large number of people is malaria, spread by mosquitoes. Humans have dealt with this disease for centuries. Even in the US, malaria was only eradicated in 1951.

As high a toll as malaria takes, the number of annual deaths has decreased a lot. While in 2015 there were 212 million malaria cases and 429,000 deaths, just 20 years earlier the numbers were much higher, with estimates of 300 – 500 million cases with 3 million deaths.

The decrease in malaria deaths is multifactorial but mainly came from a few initiatives: the distribution of insecticide-treated bed nets, better medicines that can be taken temporarily, and the reduction of mosquito breeding sites like standing water.

While bed nets and medication have helped reduce human suffering and deaths due to malaria, it seems obvious to take the next step and try to eliminate malaria entirely. But since there is still no effective vaccine against the plasmodium parasite spread by mosquitoes plans for eliminating malaria often call for eradication of mosquitos, or specifically the Anopheles gambiae species that carry human malaria strains.

This approach — eradication of a targeted species that is the disease vector — is relatively uncommon. Some who question the approach warn against unintended consequences of such an effort. They are right to want to understand the larger effects, so the next questions are how do we make this decision? And are we cruel for not eradicating mosquitoes if we can? Would this decision be delayed if malaria were still a problem in the US? Do we even have the authority to attempt intentional species eradication? How do we even make these decisions?

The comparison that last question usually draws is that of smallpox eradication. When, in 1980, the disease was determined to be eliminated from human populations it was a triumph of decades of vaccinations and swift response to outbreaks.

SAO PAULO, BRAZIL – MARCH 04: Aedes aegypti mosquito, the species which transmits the dengue virus, chikungunya fever and zika is photographed on March 04, 2016 in Sao Paulo, Brazil. (Photo by William Volcov/Brazil Photo Press/LatinContent/Getty Images)c

There are several ways to attempt Anopheles gambiae eradication. Since mosquitoes have gained resistance to many classes of insecticides and the plasmodium parasites also have resistance to antimalarial drugs, other methods are used.

One way is the release of large numbers of sterilized males. This process was successfully applied to the screw-worm fly in the US in the 1950s. A similar approach could be taken with mosquitoes as well. It’s a temporary solution since even a small number of non-sterilized mosquitoes that manage to mate can rebuild a population. The Debug project has an ongoing trial of this technique with Aedes aegypti mosquitoes that carry Zika, yellow fever, and dengue fever.

There is also a program to use CRISPR gene editing to introduce genes for infertility into the mosquito population.

The approach taken with smallpox – too vaccinate the disease away – doesn’t work with malaria, at least not yet. Current versions of the vaccine require four separate inoculations spread over weeks. Even then the efficacy rate is around 39%. (And vaccines are a technique that would enable the mosquitoes to continue to bite humans, who are immune from malaria.) So that brings us back to the idea of eliminating mosquitoes.

A starting point to evaluate that decision is to take mosquitoes as part of a system that will change if they are eliminated. Taking a whole systems approach isn’t so much delaying a solution as it is trying not to create a new problem by the quick actions mentioned above.

The other side of the equation is that malaria-carrying mosquito species are not large sources of food for other animals. The non-biting males are among the many insects that pollinate different types of plants, but are only major pollinators of one type of orchid. Note also that biologist E. O. Wilson is in favor of mosquito eradication.

But if malaria-carrying mosquito eradication happens, there are other potential negative outcomes. At least one of them could affect more than the current number of people dying from malaria today.

People change their habits. Without mosquitoes keeping the human population away from prime mosquito habitats like swamps and rain forests, more people may move to these areas. People may then push out other animals and prepare unoccupied lands for logging and farming. Also, people may hunt and eat more “bush meat,” a source of other cross-species diseases, including Ebola and AIDS.

Stating the potential negatives of eliminating malaria is easy outside of a malaria infected area. Could we make an attempt at estimating potential deaths from both options?

source https://techcrunch.com/2019/04/16/what-would-it-mean-to-eradicate-the-mosquito/