#remember who truly invented going up the enemy's privates

[mariuslepual]

bitch I think you mean PIONEERS they did that shit in 2017!!!!

[raymurata]

❤️ ❗️ 🐞 for Oak and Tarylin

❤️ (heart) - Who is the most important person to your character? To what lengths would they go to protect this person?

In both cases, their family members!

Despite everything that family did to him, and despite questioning their methods on occasion, Tarlyn was loyal to his identity as an Icozrin and he lived in service of his den (as far as Oak remembers at least).

Oak loves their family deeply and can't fathom anything bad happening to them. They'd go to great lengths to protect them, including being away from them. This is one of the reasons they were itching to leave Jigow (so as not to risk the Icozrin coming after them there) and be on the move/adventuring.

❗️(exclamation point) - What was the scariest moment of your character’s life? Does it still affect them?

I'll keep my mouth shut abt Tarlyn for this one. 👀

For Oak, it was definitely when Ahlysaaria announced her plan to "return them to a worthy body." But being attacked by Anil and his goons was right up there too (and as far as they know, Anil was trying to get them to proceed with Ahlysaaria's plan, so it's the same fear again). I think that the attempted kidnapping marked the first time Oak's ever fallen in battle. I might be misremembering tho cuz my memory sucks for these things. I even wanted to ask @skullhaver if they remember exactly what the goons used when Oak went down. Was it the Gravity Stone? (😂 The irony of Oak falling bc of their own invention is truly something.) I'm not sure force damage would leave a scar, tho. It was probably internal injuries that Espen healed. But they sustained other damage in that fight. A lot of it. Some other goons stabbed them. Bad day. Not to mention the fact BOTH ESPEN AND MOXIE fell too!!!! If their friends had died bc of the Icozrin, Oak would have been so so so so sad. It was terrifying.

🐞 (ladybug) - What does a perfect day look like for your oc? What do they do? Who do they see?

For Tarlyn, the perfect day would have been the day Ahlysaaria said "You've worked so hard and you've truly honored your den, Tarlyn. I will always be proud of you." 🥲 Lmao I mean, that's the short of it. If you could have entered his mind and seen his daydreams, you'd have seen his perfect day looked a little like this: Some magical invention of his is the breakthrough that revolutionizes weaponry manufacture in the Dynasty and puts the Kryn army at an undeniable advantage against their foreign enemies. He stands before the Bright Queen in the Lucid Bastion, she thanks him personally and by name, and as a reward, he is granted consecution and Den Icozrin is elevated into the ruling class. Everyone he knows witnesses this. His friends are jealous, Ymril is furiously envious, Galsariad wants him so bad; even Essek Thelyss, whom he's clearly surpassed on this perfect imaginary day, notices and admires him openly. His mother radiates with unmistakable pride. She cups his cheeks and kisses his forehead and hugs him tightly and lovingly in private, and tells him she'll always be proud of him. "You were absolutely perfect, darling," is the only feedback she gives him. Poor guy (gender neutral). Every one of those delusions could have been reality and he'd still have been miserable.

Now Oak's perfect day would look something like this: They wake up well-rested and in a comfy bed, and they're somewhere with nature, so they get to spend time outside, maybe foraging for some herbs (as they used to in Jigow), or harvesting them from a community garden (I can imagine Rosohna having some of these). They have breakfast and smoke their pipe in enjoyable company (in Jigow that'd be their family, in Rosohna their roommates, and now it's the Moonlighters), and get "productive." While a perfect day could easily be a work day (especially if they get to learn something new or do something they consider worthwhile, such as investigating Ruidium/helping Alyxian with the Moonlighters), an ideal day is not too taxing (or deadly!) and they get time to dedicate to craft projects. They get really in the zone and they're proud of their own art! Up until 10 days ago in game, Oak would have pictured making dinner, playing games and chilling with friends or family for the evening of a perfect day, but right now they would picture a date with Gal, having deep and nerdy conversations over dinner, and then they work on a spell or puzzle or a magical item or some riddles together. They talk loads and Oak gets to see sides of Gal few people know. There's lots of kissing, and they play with his hair and he hugs them tight. They cuddle.😳😳 (Oak kicks their feet picturing it) No bad luck befalls them or their loved ones on a perfect day, and they try their best to live by their values (be curious, be questioning, be understanding, be compassionate, be kind and be true to yourself). They give plenty of affection, and they feel loved and cared for in return. ♥️

[randomnumbers751650]

Sometimes people ask a thing like “how did it get so big?” This is almost like any meme in the internet and sometimes even whatever is in the Top 10 bestselling books of any list. Due to being a historian of economic thought, I’m study the ascension of the idea of the entrepreneur as a hero, how it happened and its consequences, both good and bad. Therefore, I couldn’t avoid Ayn Rand and Atlas Shrugged. It wasn’t a good experience and I’ll talk more about it under the cut.

I think we all know how much of a controversial person Ayn Rand was. But it worked. She’s one of the most influential writers of the 20th century whether we like it or not. Like, a lot of people say she hates the poor and minorities. It’s even a meme, like there’s a joke SCP that makes everything it comes into contact unnecessarily verbose and one of the incidents was a sticky note written “I hate poor people” that becomes a copy of Atlas Shrugged.

After reading her work, I can safely say these are traps she set up in her own work. Not only that, these traps hide the true problems of her work.

In first place, we need to consider her demographic target. That wasn’t me, if I wasn’t researching, I wouldn’t even bother reading it. Like, I remember I saw in the internet a game called “The Jihad to Destroy Barney” and someone commenting: “because 20-years old thinking they’re funny were obviously the demographic target of Barney the Dinosaur”. Rand knew what her demographic target was, after working in Hollywood for so many years.

One might think that her demographic target was people like her, but it’s wider than that. Through all her book, producers (she doesn’t use the word ‘entrepreneur’, but it’s obviously the same) are the protagonists. Dagny shows her dedication to her railway, always looking for ways to improve it, to hire the best people to work with her, to deliver the best product she can, always treating others with respect. All the producers are people full of passion for what they do. They do not just for the money, they do it to express themselves (but still want/should be paid).

Meanwhile their enemies are the government organs that want to curb them, by introducing legislation to make everything equal, like people are forbidden to be fired, prices are controlled and so on. And they are evil, they are hypocrites who don’t really believe in the altruistic values they spouse or they are too dumb to realize they’re being hypocrites. They are always men in position of power, evil bureaucrats, quisling industrialists, hypocrite union leaders (though the union leader, Fred Kinnan, interestingly is the most sympathetic of the villains, and actually gets away scot free, to the point some think he’s a Galt agent undercover).

Rand aimed for the real life entrepreneur identify with the “heroes”. All the companies have names of their founders in their titles, Taggart Terminal, d’Anconia Copper, and so on. Their enemies show their true faces by naming themselves with abstract titles, like National Union and so on. She aimed the person who ever had to deal with the Health Department, with the Labor Department, who has to fills forms and more forms and say “Wouldn’t the world be a terrible place if it wasn’t for you? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you didn’t have to do all of this? If you just had the opportunity to truly express yourself? Free from the prying eyes of government inspectors? Rejoice, because I have the answer!”

Rand answers this with the Galt’s Gulch – a utopia of freedom, where the word “give” is taboo, while leaving the outside world of looters and moochers to destroy itself. All the producers are gathered to escape the terrible collectivist world around her. Everyone has money and, since they’re all enlightened by the principles of greed and selfishness, the prices are small, even symbolic. Monopolies are good and rivals are always being taken down, and they rejoice with it, both winner and loser, because they contributed to the expansion of human spirit.

When John Galt says “I swear – by my life and my love of it – that I will never live for the sake of another man, nor ask another man to live for mine”, he’s implying all men who belong to this valley. They are not ashamed of taking low jobs, because they know their true power is what they do with their minds and hands. Francisco is shown to be perfect in everything he does, makes one think he’s a Gary Stu, but it’s because, according to the book’s philosophy, if you’re a true man, anything you do you become the best. For this reason, Galt’s Gulch is quite diverse, because it has not only industrialists, but also factory workers and small businessmen who share their ideals. And not only workers, but also artists, intellectuals and others.

This is why I think the argument “this books hates poor people” might not be accurate. The low worker whom Eddie Willers meets in the beginning is actually John Galt in disguise. This I think it’s the most important part to understand why Atlas Shrugged was so influential with small businessmen when published: John Galt is where the Übermensch and the Everyman meet. “Who is John Galt?” Anyone can be John Galt – the same way anyone can be Bella Swan, anyone can be Ritsuka Fujimaru (at least before the 5th singularity), anyone can be Kirito Kirigaya – the idealized self of the entrepreneur.

Thus, one is not born a “man”, but becomes one. Dagny and Hank’s entire character development is to become “men”, to learn to love themselves more than what they create, no matter how passionate they are. This contrasts with Eddie Willers, Dagny’s right hand man, probably the most tragic character of the tale.

Eddie loved the railway just as Dagny. He’s been her friend for so long, and even developed feelings for her. But the book constantly observes that Eddy doesn’t have the capacity to lead something as important as a railway. But he does it nevertheless, dedicating all his resources and passion for the railway. But, unlike Dagny, he doesn’t learn to look for greater things. Thus, he ends the novel stuck in a railway, defeated and probably left to die.

This is controversial, so much everyone still discusses his fate. In the movie adaptation, they deviate from the novel by having the heroes making a point to rescue him from his fate. In Jennifer Burns’s biography, she mentions a letter Ayn Rand received asking about Eddie and she replies that in a collectivist society, Eddie would’ve perished, while in a free one he’d be living okay. Nevertheless, this reveals a truth about that world: not everyone will become a “man”. Eddie would never become a “man”.

Since pity is against Galt’s doctrine, Eddie cannot be pitied. He has to live under the mercy of his Galtian overlords. He has only two options: either worship the feet that trample him, expecting his breadcrumbs fall from their banquet table, or to question his place in the world, thus denying that A is A, and be trampled harder. It really doesn’t matter his kindness, his dedication, he’s not a “man”, and thus has more in common with the looters and moochers than the heroes. Thus, if Eddie ever becomes an obstacle to the productive forces, even if unintentionally, he has to be trampled.

While one might think that I’m being unfair, it should be reminded that Ayn Rand openly advocated the people who were killing Natives during the American expansion to the West were doing nothing wrong. The Natives were actually privileged for being trampled by the productive forces, thus creating the great nation. The same argument can be made for the colonized people and even to the “essential workers” of this pandemic – since apparently people who take this book seriously are one of the most resistant forces to lockdowns and mask mandates, you can guess why.

And this is why Rand hated the environmental movement, because it puts an obstacle to the productive process. Nature can only react with deaf indifference to Galt’s speech. For Rand, this is unforgivable. Would it be surprising if oil tycoons were fans of Rand’s work?

In the end, the producers execute their revenge against the world that rejected them. Galt’s speech caused a lot of disturbance and the last chapters deal with its consequences, with more villains being evil for no reason and more showing how awesome their heroes are. Galt becomes more and more like Jesus, even with a gnostic Judas in Dagny helping him. In fact, in the funniest part of the book, where it comes THIS close from being self-aware, he says to his tormenters, when they asked to cooperate with him: “It took me three hours on the radio to tell me why”. It gave me angry laughter.

In the end of the day, what matters? This is a work of fiction, where caricatures of men and women fight each other. The entrepreneurial process works nothing like described in the book. It takes a naïve view of selfishness, upon saying that if everyone was selfish the world would be a better place, when in reality, if you expect selfishness, it’s what you’ll get.

It’s never explained how they invented their inventions, only that they did it and it’s awesome. The One-Man Industrial Revolution trope is one that I loathe a lot, because it misrepresents the innovation process. It requires so many factors, including government funding – scratch that, it REQUIRES government funding because technologies like touch-screen used to be so risky that no private company would take seriously and government can fund because it doesn’t go bankrupt the same way. Even if we take it as a metaphor, it doesn’t work when you stop to think.

Rand belongs to the same class of writers as Stephenie Meyer and Christian Weston Chandler. But she wanted to influence the world, she wanted it to be more than entertainement, much more. Thanks to her publishing network and appeal to real problems, she did it. This is why the problems of her work require critique. And I hope anyone reading this try to understand better what “relatability” means, this is what relatability can do. Stop trying to look for relatability everywhere, let it just come naturally and if it doesn’t come enjoy the story!

[secret-engima]

Nox keeps giving the media meltdowns. How's that, y'know, working out for him? And what's the general reaction around the Citadel crew to the media circus? Also, how do people feel when they realize exactly how /powerful/ Nox is?

Hmmm for the most part, Nox is ... ambivalent to how many times he sends the media into a tizzy. He’s got memories of 2k worth of royalty and scandals, he remembers the invention of media networks and sometimes dreams of the invention of the flipping printing press. There is literally nothing they can say about him that he doesn’t already have memories of somehow. Honestly, it’s .... alternately tiring and hilarious to him. He kinda wishes people would take a chill pill, but on the other hand, since Regis would never force him to deal with the media circus unless Nox willingly agreed to it, he doesn’t particularly care. At least until he wants to- you know- leave the Citadel and go literally anywhere in Insomnia and Then It Becomes A Problem (Nox misses the days he was just a nobody with earrings and baggy clothes. So much). Though, since he knows that nothing he can do or not do will calm them down, he does occasionally indulge in intentionally poking them with a proverbial stick.

By Citadel crew I’m uncertain to if you mean Regis and Co + Chocobros or the long-suffering Citadel press corps, so I will just do both-

-Regis feels So Very Sorry for his eldest. He knows he couldn’t keep Nox a secret forever, but he honestly had ... hoped it wouldn’t get this bad. He’s afraid for a while that the media things will depress Nox or make him afraid to leave the Citadel/angry at being Regis’s son, but Nox just rolls his eyes at everything and ignores the media hounds with catlike ease (by which I mean he spaces out into the distance with a neutral expression and occasionally does the human version of pushing things off other things to distract them).

-Clarus knew this was coming. He knew it was going to get so much worse when Axis’s existence came out (it did). He ... would feel bad about this but this is just- royal/celebrity life. This is a slightly more hysterical version of normal. Honestly it’s the noble society he’s more worried about (he realizes quickly that his fears are unfounded, for a kid who’s been unknown for years he can verbally tear nobles to shreds with the best of them. Clearly a talent inherited from the Izunia side of his heritage).

-Cor hates the media. Always has, always will. No time for it. Not after all the stuff they threw out about him becoming a Crownsguard and then alter their role in cementing his hated Immortal title. Is fully waiting and ready for Nox to get mad enough at the media to condone Cor going out and doing Something Stupid And Maybe Bloody about it. Unfortunately, Nox never does, so Cor has to just sit and seethe and occasionally laugh evilly over Nox’s latest trolling behavior.

-Noctis doesn’t even know about the media storm for   y e a r s. He’s the bby Crown Prince, you really think anyone is gonna let this kid watch the news channels and the gossip talk shows? No sir. Not on Ignis’s watch. Noctis DOES hear about it at school though, with students bugging him about it and even TEACHERS side-eyeing him like they expect something Dramatic to happen. Noctis eventually gets sick of it and punches another student in the face probably. Ignis is scandalized, Regis tries to gently explain that no, Noctis cannot throw someone in dungeon because they said nasty things about Nox and no he is not explaining what those nasty things mean.

-Ignis is ashamed to look back and realize that he once bought into about 80% of the media meltdown over Nox. Now that he knows Nox better, he knows that none of it is remotely true and the world is not going to turn Game of Thrones on him. Now he’s ... very insulted on Nox’s behalf, but understands that it is not his place to intervene (though he does give patented Frosty Looks at any reporters that come sniffing around the Citadel forever after).

-Gladio does not watch conventional TV. He watches action blockbusters that have explosions, documentaries on wildlife/camping/hunting/sword-making and Iris’s favorite show about magical girls and talking, rainbow colored Chocobo companions when she makes the puppy eyes at him. That’s it. Is ... nominally aware of news and social media having fits over Nox but Does Not Care so long as they don’t bother Nox and nobody actually tries anything against Noctis’s big brother.

-Citadel press corps kinda hates Nox’s guts. On one hand, he is a Model Prince because he doesn’t go out and get drunk, doesn’t have wild parties, doesn’t have any actual scandals that they need to cover up or spin positively. On the other ... refuses to do press conferences. Refuses to do interviews. Refuses to do anything to help them mitigate the media meltdowns that his mere existence causes (and the events of the Music Drabble I have yet to write, OH BOY do they hate him for that). Just- hides in the Citadel and only makes appearances when it’s a mandatory ball/gala/thing or when he’s accidentally unleashing another media Meltdown. Agrees to one (1) private interview when he’s 18 and even then it’s ONLY if he can talk to some random, unknown rookie who runs a gossip column. They, by turns, want to strangle him and praise his existence, but at least he isn’t as bad as Regis and Clarus were in their day.

-It- would take a long time for people to really know how powerful Nox is. Like- out in the wilds of Lucis proper? There ARE people who know he’s way stronger than he lets on (the Hunter Corps and their families that he’s saved a bunch of times, plus everybody in Hammerhead who politely pretended Cid wasn’t housing the Nif Chancellor and his LC nephew for two years). The Hunter Corps, out of everyone, have the best idea of just what Nox is capable of, because they’ve ... put together a few things over the years. Like how Nox usually crops up in the area a day or so before a Niflheim base gets shredded/blown up/otherwise Wrecked™ for seemingly no reason. But his Real Power? That ... I’m honestly not sure how that would come out.

-But hypothetically, sure, let’s say something happened that made Nox go Full Fury on some poor hapless Nif soul (or army, probably an army). I’m gonna picture ... a Incident with a Kingsglaive held area. Nox is out there for like an official inspection or something, one of the Very Few media things he ever agrees to, when there’s a full on attack. While the poor Media People who are live streaming this freak out and the glaive get ready for a slaughter, Nox just- real calmly orders the glaive to Stay In the Base and keep an eye on the media people. Calmly walks out the base gate without so much as a by your leave and starts limp-striding his way toward the Impending Invasion of Death, Axis right at his side, just as calm (Axis knows what’s coming after all). Some glaives try to follow him because Obviously only to smack face first into - a Wall. A genuine magic Wall like the one encircling Insomnia.

-The entire Lucian nation plus whatever non-Lucian channels manage to pick this up get a livestream view of Nox raising a mini Wall around the base to keep everyone safe, then casually strolling out toward the Invasion force and just-

-Decimating it.

-About halfway between the invasion force and the base, Nox stops and raises a hand to the sky, a sword appears in his grip, and everyone present can feel magical pressure suddenly build-build-build until the air turns blue (the Wall keeps everyone inside safe from the intensity of the pressure except Axis, who doesn’t need it, he is Nox’s Shield and Nox will never hurt him). The Nifs release their war Behemoths on the field, gunships are coming in for the kill, and then-

-His sword sweeps down and the world shakes under the force of the pure energy wave that rises from his blade, sweeping across the distance between him and the enemy and either breaking, scattering, or straight up disintegrating anything in its path. An imperial dreadnought splits in half and then breaks into dozens upon dozens of pieces, the war-beasts caught in the path of the wave are just- gone. So are the MT units and gunships.

-Ever seen the upgraded armiger attacks from the Royal Version of FFXV? Yeah, picture those, but cranked up to eleven. Or just picture those and then imagine being an ordinary civilian seeing that for the first time. Ghostly blades whirling around Nox’s form, defending him from bullets and debris only to lash out as literal waves of energy or a death laser.

-Needless to say, Nox destroys that invading force single-handedly in a display not unlike the legends of Ragnarok or Armageddon, all while holding a Wall around the base. He then calmly turns, walks back to the base, asks if everyone is okay, and upon getting the all clear-

-Collapses. Straight up flops over into Axis’s arms while on national live television because someone forgot to eat anything today and spent most of the previous night fretting over nightmares or something (the rest of the world assumes he pushed himself way too far with that display, but really he could have done more if he hadn't already been tired/hungry and Axis knows it).

-For once, the media meltdown isn’t punctuated by frenzy but by a very, very fragile, frightened silence.

-It’s been ... a long time since a Lucis Caelum has Truly unleashed their power on the field and Nox is no ordinary LC.

-Clips of Nox’s stunt circulate for months, are analyzed by historians and doctors and talk show hosts for precedents and health risk and just sheer What levels. Social media ranges from cheering Nox on to snidely wondering why LCs aren’t doing that more often to a huge outpouring of concern for the prince who just fought off a literal army and then collapsed like he’d been decked in the head. The Hunter Corp all pool their resources together to get this idiot kid a care package, Cid probably comes over from Hammerhead to yell at him while Cindy bear hugs and cries all over his clothes.

-In Niflheim ... a lot of people are reevaluating their stance on the war. Because if that is what just one Lucis Caelum can do, then what’s going to happen when there are two of-age princes who are not chained down by the Wall?

-A lot of nobles in Lucis are also reevaluating their stances on the illegitimate prince, because UMMMMMM that’s the kind of thing that only happens in blockbuster dramas, and Nox did it in real life. More than that, he knew he could do it, as evidenced by how calm he was when he gave the order for everyone to stay.

-Lots of internet conspiracy/theory people try to figure out just how powerful Nox is and if he’s an anomaly in the bloodline because seriously can all LCs do that????

-A lot of people, for a lot of different reasons, are very, very scared of Nox now. Either because they still believe that GoT is inbound and that just put the kibosh on a lot of their rebellion daydreams or because Nox is already a wild card and now he’s proven that he’s a supremely dangerous wildcard.

-So basically, still a meltdown, but this one much, much quieter and more reverent.

-Assuming I ever do something like this in Nox versa canon, because I’m not sure I will.

[arcticdementor]

We’re seeing the beginnings of what unambiguous power looks like. Corporate donors are dropping the GOP, throwing away an intimate, decades-long DD/lg relationship. But perhaps more important is the wave of unprecedented internet censorship that included the digital death penalty for Trump and his allies, and also for any users who continue to make claims of election fraud. This was seemingly coordinated among the entire now-private public square, and private companies are of course allowed to do whatever they want.

Average Joe might feel like he’s living on the edge of a knife. Don’t like it? Why not just create your own social media website that competes with Twitter in moderation policies? This is America, right?

But to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe. Here are the interconnecting layers of the internet that you’ll need to recreate yourself.

…

Gab was founded in 2016 as a “free-speech” alternative to Twitter: the only content that’s restricted is content that violates the law. Because the only people who really benefit from a neutral content policy are culturally radioactive right-wingers, the user base quickly spiralled into a den of far-right villainy. Consequently, it was booted from the Google Play app store in 2017, and never made it onto the iOS App Store.

…

Search is usually the first step of interacting with the internet. Without access to search, a web surfer is as good as blind. Without being searchable, a website may as well not exist, domain name or not.

Google Search controls a 90 percent share of the internet market. There’s good evidence that they’ve dramatically pushed down conservative news websites in their search rankings. This is compounded by the fact that Google publicly admits to using human “raters” to categorize websites on search in terms of “Expertise/Authoritativeness/Trustworthiness.” Do dominant, politicized narratives of Truth and Authority affect the judgement of these human elements? A leaked exchange within Google indicates that this is likely.

…

Visa has relationships with all the top banks—Chase, BofA, Wells Fargo, Citi—that underpin the entire credit card network. Together, these banks have a market cap of well over 1 trillion dollars. Still want to build your own Twitter? You have to build one of these. Creating your own community or regional bank won’t cut it. It will end up just as much a client of the system as anything else in the stack.

Payment processing is so politically fragile because it all falls on the back of this banking oligarchy; their underwriters are the people who can pull the trigger and designate anyone as “high risk.” Risk standards correlate closely with the narratives set by the progressive ideological complex, because mega-banks like everyone else don’t want to draw the withering gaze of the Rainbow Eye of Sauron.

But banking is one of the most regulated industries in the country, to the point where banks could be considered public-private partnerships. Not to mention that a bank charter is a government document, the kind that is very hard to get. No free market here!

We’re not quitters, though. So we get a charter, go through the regulatory hurdles, and use our superhuman business skills to bring our bank to a market capitalization of $200 billion or so and dethrone one of the Big Four.

We can finally do it! We can finally implement a social media website with a moderation policy different from Facebook and Google! We acted on the advice of Very Smart online commenters and simply outcompeted every multibillion- and multitrillion-dollar company at every layer of the internet and financial sectors of the global economy. Voila! All it took was creating a vertically integrated monopoly, the likes of which the world has never seen.

Not so fast.

There’s something called Operation Choke Point. It’s one of many ways that the federal government circumvents legal limits on its ability to crack down on its enemies by compelling private companies to do it for them. Between 2012 and 2015, firearms dealers, cryptocurrency firms, political radicals, and many others felt the smothering hand of the Department of Justice indirectly—by way of the banking industry.

…

9. Build Your Own Government

Here we are, at the bottom of the stack. Here we find enlightenment: everything is interconnected, no company is truly “private,” and the government is laundering political favoritism through several degrees of separation. There’s no escape from this web of interdependence. It’s just like the acid trip told us.

We hinted at ways that the federal government deputizes private actors to circumvent constitutional limits of its power, but there’s more. Businesses face legal penalties in the form of hostile workplace litigation if they don’t police employee speech, very often in a partisan direction. This results in the ideological homogeneity we see in the corporations that define the public perception of reality, such as Google and Facebook. These rank-and-file employees, not top executives, are the ones who demand more radical policies of political policing and deplatforming. Remember: the unity of everything, man.

With cultural domination in one hand and financial muscle in the other, power is assuming its final, undivided form. American progressivism has gone mask-off and revealed itself to be little more than pink libertarianism. The interests of working people take a backseat to two symbiotic concerns: increasingly radical social crusades, and the apparently sacred property rights of megacorporations that insulate social crusades from opposition.

The progressivism of just five years ago was deeply suspicious of the military-industrial complex and surveillance capitalism. By pure coincidence it entered into a pupal stage during the last period of the outgoing administration, and is now emerging as a glorious and undeniably powerful butterfly. It’s logical for corporate America to play ball. For the part of social media giants, an expensive, complex, and mandatory moderation regime serves as a tall barrier to entry.

[redrobin-detective]

growing pains are harder with siblings

can’t stop, won’t stop Zim Membrane part III

XxX

“Get out of my room!” Dib shrieked trying to shut the door on the alien that had infested his life. Bad enough he had to see Zim at school and then at home but now in his room, the one sanctuary he had from the madness? Zim ducked under his arms and entered the room, scanning the area with a dismissive look.

“Membrane Father says good siblings share, Dib Brother,” Zim said cheekily before he turned to confront the human. “Except for my things, I know you took my radiotopic quasmieser and I demand you return my property to me before your oafish human hands break it.”

“Oh, you mean this,” Dib grinned manically, pulling odd alien device out of his drawer. “Having you in my life has been nothing but a nightmare; the only advantage of having you close is having all your alien technology within my re- Hey!” Dib shouted as he was interrupted mid-monologue by Zim charging him, screeching and struggling to grab the machine. 

“Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!” The alien screamed flailing his arms in Dib’s face trying to grab the device.

Dib cackled, holding it high over his head where Zim couldn’t reach. He looked down at his mortal enemy and sort of adopted brother (he guesses) and sneered. “What? Is it too high for you? How does it feel to be a little shorty on top of being so magnificently incompetent?” To his surprise, Zim stopped his shouting and jumping to look up at Dib with wide eyes. The alien looked between them as if he had just noticed that, over the last several months they’d been battling over the fate of the Earth, Dib had grown slightly taller than him. 

“What is the meaning of this!?” Zim hissed, shuffling back and hunching his shoulders. “What technology do you have at your disposal that grants you greater height? Tell me!” 

“What are you talking ab-”

“Tell me!”

“I’m try to you-”

“Tell me!”

“Arg!” Dib screamed in frustration, clutching his hands to his head as if he could possibly get a moment of peace. But life wasn’t kind in that way and Zim certainly wasn’t. “It’s called growing up, Junior. People are born small and grow bigger as they age. Do you think my dad and all the other adults just appeared that way?” Judging by the Zim was blinking rapidly and furrowing his eyebrow, he probably did. Dib called him an alien all the time but it’s moments like these he realized just how other Zim was. “Do your uh people not grow up?”

“Irkens remain the same size from creation their whole life,” Zim muttered absentmindedly, perhaps not realizing he’d finally given Dib a name for his species. ‘Irken’ did sound kind of cool but Dib was still privately going to refer to them as ‘Dumb Green Butthole Aliens’. 

“Wait if you’re not that small because you’re young then how old are you?” Dib asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Older than your puny mind can comprehend,” Zim dismissed with a wave while Dib was too busy trying to comprehend the fact that someone who was essentially an adult spent his time attending middle school and picking fights with kids. Zim squinted his red eyes at Dib. 

“Are you saying that one day you will be as tall as Father Membrane?”

“Uh yeah maybe, I mean he is my dad and I’m told height runs in the family...” Dib trailed off at the look of horror and dismay on Zim’s face. His antennae flattened against his head and he backed up some more looking incredibly lost and vulnerable. It was uncomfortable to witness having been on the receiving end of that misery more times than he could count. When had he flipped and become the bully? “So I’ll be taller than you, who cares. You have those weird spider leg things to get you around.”

“Once you are Tall, people listen to you,” Zim mumbled, still folded in on himself and eyeing Dib like the was the alien. From Zim’s perspective he probably was but he’d never acted like Dib was really any different from him before. “Our Tallest are the highest authority, they lead our people in glorious conquest. They are beloved and respected and those who are beneath them are... not.” For just a brief moment, Dib could read Zim’s whole history in his hunched shoulders and downcast gaze. It was sad and lonely and painfully similar to his own life; bullies weren’t invented on Earth after all.

“Pfft,” Dib chuckled uncomfortably, “who wants to be tall anyway? You just run into things and have to buy bigger clothes. I don’t know how your society works but on Earth, how tall you are doesn’t decide anything, everyone has a choice in who they are and how important they’re going to be.” As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Dib knew he had made a grave error. Because in his stupid awkward moment of being nice he had forgotten that Zim was, in fact, trying to destroy the world. And was an obsessive, insane maniac. Also stupid. Zim stood himself up to his full height, still just below Dib, and proudly set his hands on his hips every inch the vile invader scum Dib despised. 

“For once in your life Dib baby, you are correct! Zim is too great of an invader to be held back by something so minuscule! I will conquer this filthy Earth planet and present it to my Tallest in order to prove what I have always known, that I am the single greatest invader Irk has ever seen!” He laughed loudly and with abandon as he snatched the radio whatchamacallit out of Dib’s hands. “So long, Dib, I’m off to conqueeeeeeest!” He said, activating his spider legs and punching a hole through Dib’s wall even though the window or the door was right there and climbed out.

Dib was staring dumbly at the empty space when Zim’s upside down face dropped down to glare at him. “Tell Father that I shall be late for dinner, too busy with my evil and all.” He frowned, probably remembering that Dad didn’t tolerate anyone being late for dinner and will literally track them across all of space time to get them to the table. “Fine but no more of your disgusting human pizza, it makes Zim sick.” 

“That’s because your “dog” ordered fish eyes and toenails on the last pizza,” even Gaz, who would eat pretty much any kind of pizza, had declined. But Zim was already gone, probably back to his home base to work on some truly nasty scheme that would inevitably fall apart due to his own reckless stupidity. Zim might be an adult by alien standards but he had a lot to learn about growing up. Dib did too but he was still a kid so he had time and, as long as Zim was living in this house, maybe he’d do a little growing too. In the metaphorical sense at least, man Dib can’t wait until he hit puberty and got way taller. He couldn’t wait to lord that over the alien. Maybe there was something to this ‘brother’ thing after all.  

[emilx311]

Senju Tobirama has two names, one known only to a handful of people. Turns out, this can make finding your soulmate a bit difficult. 

Written for MadaTobi week prompt Soulmates. Tobirama's second name here is Tetsuo which means (according to the list I found) wise hero or wise man. To make it easy to read I tried to stick to Tobirama for the most part, but anytime Tetsuo is used it is referring to Tobirama. 

If you enjoy my fics please help support my writing! 

There was something very few people knew about Senju Tobirama. Well, really there were many things about the younger Senju brother that were not widely known, but the most important one was his name. Not his everyday name, that one had spread well beyond the boarders of fire country attached to tales of his battle prowess, his invented jutsus, his various feats, and monikers such as ‘the white ghost’. No, it was his true name that remained a secret.

Many had forgotten, but the previous lady of the Senju, Butsuma’s soulmate, was a Hatake and the Hatake could be a superstitious people. They believed that names had power and so every child of the clan was given two names. The first was their secret name, their true name. This name was a secret, given only to those closest to the person. The second was their everyday name, the name the general public would know them as. Though she had left her clan to help her husband and soulmate lead his, the lady Senju held on to some of her traditions. When each of her sons were born, she carefully selected two names for them. In their public names she followed the traditions of the Senju. In their private ones she followed her heart. When they were alone with her, she would use only these private names, would remind her children of the power they contained and why they should take such care with them.

Hashirama had always been a true son of the Senju. Though he respected their mother and her traditions he did not believe in them. He remembered and guarded the name she had given him as a gift but saw Hashirama as his name. After she passed, only his brothers would use his other name and soon even they began to stop. Soon it was all but forgotten, used only as an occasional loving nickname.

Tobirama was his brother’s opposite in many ways and this was among them. He had taken after his mother the most, both in looks and temperament. He listened with awe to her stories and committed them and her beliefs to memory. He’d never seen “Tobirama” as anything more than a cover, a shield created to protect his true self. Tetsuo was the name he regarded as his for it was the name his mother had given to him out of love.

Tobirama was a duty. Tobirama was having to be the spare heir. Tobirama was having to be his father’s soldier. Tobirama was having to fight and kill. Tobirama was stomping his emotions down so they would not get in the way of what had to be done. Tobirama was the aches of wounds and bruises and hours spent training and pushing himself to be better.

Tetsuo was none of those. Tetsuo was the joy of reading, of experimenting, of learning and creating. Tetsuo were the secret soft smiles he saved for his brothers, Touka, and later Mito. Tetsuo was wiping away his brother’s tears and whispered words of apology and forgiveness in the night. Tetsuo was drawing up drafts of treaties he wasn’t sure would ever be signed and plans for a village he doubted would ever exist. Tetsuo was promises to do all he could to help make Hashirama’s dreams a reality. Tetsuo was being able to let his guard down. Tetsuo was playing with and teaching the clan children. Tetsuo was carefully bandaged wounds, and kind words, and warm eyes.

Tobirama was the face he presented to the world, but Tetsuo was his heart. However, Tobirama had not only embraced the name his mother had given him, he had also embraced her warnings. Tetsuo was vulnerable in a way Tobirama was not, not only to spirits but to other humans, and so he kept Tetsuo tucked away. Only when he was alone, or with the small handful of people he trusted completely, would he allow Tetsuo to emerge.

His soulmark did not help in this regard. He’d kept it hidden since it had appeared, a task thankfully made easier by the fact it was on his upper thigh. It wasn’t that he feared he would never meet his mate, nor was it because he was ashamed of having a male’s name. He also did not suffer from the common fear in shinobi that their match would die before they could meet. He did not agonize over the possibility it could be a civilian. No, in these ways he’d been luckier than most. He’d known who his mate was since the moment he’d first seen the elegant writing sitting starkly against his pale skin. Madara was, after all, a rather unusual name.

No, Tobirama hid his mark precisely because he knew who it was for. He didn’t want his father to know he was matched with an enemy. Didn’t want to hurt Hashirama even more by revealing his soulmate was the boy Tobirama had been forced to part him from. He didn’t want to give Touka anything more to worry about-especially not something that could distract her during a battle. He assumed Madara was doing the same since the other never said anything. He continued to fight Hashirama and only ever glanced at Tobirama when checking on his younger brother. So, though deep inside Tobirama Tetsuo mourned for the chances lost, he forced himself to push past it and put such things out of his mind.

And then everything changed. Tobirama, who was always, always, Tetsuo deep in his heart, found himself with the perfect opening to kill Izuna. And yet, as he lined up his strike, all he could think about were whispered promises to his brother in the dark, were the documents and plans he had drawn up in case of the impossible. His brother’s stories about Madara echoed through his mind and the mark on his thigh seemed to burn with possibilities he’d never been able to let go of fully. And so, instead of following through, Tobirama moved his sword so it ended up clashing off Izuna’s. His rival stumbled back, well aware of just how close to death he had come.

The rest of the battlefield had gone silent. All eyes were on them, including their brothers’. They had all seen where Tobirama was aiming, had all seen the inevitable end, and they had all seen Tobirama change his strike at the last possible moment. After a few seconds that seemed to stretch on for eternity, the silence was finally broken by Madara screaming his brother’s name as he rushed over. He was shaking as he checked Izuna over, and the relief on his face when he found no serious wounds made Tobirama’s heart clench. His shocked, thankful gaze met Tobirama’s for a second before Hashirama sensed his opportunity and rushed over to ask Madara for peace once again. And this time, this time with his little brother alive in his arms only thanks to a Senju’s mercy, Madara said yes.

Things moved quickly after that. The treaties Tobirama had so carefully written and rewritten were brought out and signed. And, when Hashirama managed to talk Madara around to creating the village they’d dreamed about as children, he was prepared and dumped all the plans and schematics he’d painstakingly researched and created in front of them. Hashirama had blubbered about how he was the best brother ever, and even Madara had seemed impressed. Construction on the actual village started soon after, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, Konoha had started to look like a proper town. Hashirama had never been so happy, not even the day he’d met Mito, and Tobirama shared hi brother’s joy. It truly was an amazing achievement…and yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Even as their clans had settled together into peace and they learned to work together, Madara never approached him to talk about their bond. He tried to put it out of their mind and focus on his work (and there was always so much work that needed to be done) and he was, for the most part, successful at doing so.

Madara could barely believe that this was real some days, felt like he’d been living in a dream since that fateful battle. His heart had all but stopped in his chest when he’d seen Tobirama line up his strike, but then the Senju had changed course. Instead of being dealt a fatal wound Izuna had walked away with nothing more than a bruise. And then they had actually managed to create peace between their clans. He and Hashirama had been able to make all their childish dreams into a reality better than anything they’d ever imagined. Konoha was beautiful, everything he’d ever wanted and so much more. And, this too, he had Tobirama to thank for. Madara was slightly ashamed to admit that he’d never believed Hashirama when the other had told him, had sworn, that Tobirama also wanted peace. The younger seemed so cold, so quick to fight, so willing to kill that he’d been unable to trust the other could ever truly want peace. He saw now how wrong he had been.

It had been Tobirama who had written the original drafts of the treaties they had signed. Treaties that were truly fair and equal, that left neither clan weaker than the other. It was Tobirama who had done the practical research they’d needed. Tobirama who had drawn up blueprints and plans they were able to construct off of, plans that had clearly taken years of work to create and refine. He thought of Tobirama slaving over books since they had all been children in order to give his elder brother a real chance to see his dreams though and was forced to admit that he’d been wrong. Tobirama did want peace, Tobirama did support their dream and was willing to work harder than anyone to see it through. And, after realizing all this, Madara began to wonder what else he was wrong about when it came to the other man.

The answer that that, as it turned out, was just about everything. As the village grew, Madara had gotten into the habit of watching Tobirama. At first, it was simply because of curiosity. He had wanted to see what the other man was actually like. He was surprised to find himself more and more entranced the more he saw. He was less surprised to realize how wrong most of his impressions of the man were. Tobirama could be cold yes, but more often than not it was not malicious. He was a busy man and he preferred to get straight to the heart of things. But he was always warm to those he cared about. He always had a smile for the Senju children that flocked to him, and later, for the children outside the Senju that began to join them. He was beyond patient with them. Madara had seen him teaching a group of them some basic Katas once while visiting the Senju compound, carefully explaining and kindly correcting them. He was also always willing to answer questions, no matter who they were from.

Tobirama was fierce, but Madara saw more and more that this did not mean he craved fights. He would not allow others to walk all over him, he stood his ground when challenged, but he never started confrontations himself. Well, that was not quite true. If he got wind of someone bullying another, especially if the victim was one of those he considered his, he would seek out and ‘correct’ the behaviour. But, without his old prejudices blinding him, Madara was able to see that this did not make him quick to fight, but rather, quick to protect. And that, well, that was something Madara could respect.

The more Madara watched, the more he could understand the traits he’d once been reviled by. This included the other’s tendency to go straight for the kill in battle whenever he could. Tobirama like to nip things, especially problems, in the bud and make sure they would not be repeated. Going for the kill meant he took out a threat permanently. It meant that the enemy would not be able to hurt him or his, meant that someone else would not have to deal with it later on, meant that he did not need to fear an attack by an enemy he’d thought down. It was not that he was a monster trying sate his bloodlust, it was that he was taking the quickest and most efficient root to protect his side and end the battle.

The longer Madara watched and the more he saw the more he understood, and the more he understood the more he found himself unable to look away. Before he knew it, months had passed and Madara realized he had fallen in love with Senju Tobirama. For anyone else this would not have been a problem, but Madara was an Uchiha. A clan of fire users, they burned with all the passion of their jutsu. And they believed very strongly that their largest passion should be reserved for their soulmates. It was unheard of for an Uchiha to look elsewhere while their match still lived, and Madara knew his did. The ink over his heart was still as dark as it had been the day it first appeared; Tetsuo spelled out in neat, efficient strokes. And Madara did yearn for him, for this mysterious man that had been made to fit him perfectly in a way no other could, but he was not here! There was no one among any of the clans to join Konoha baring that name and Tobirama was right there!

Tobirama was right in front of him, also still lacking any sign of a match, and Madara could see so clearly all the ways they would fit each other. A year ago he would never have believed it, but he knew now that Tobirama would be able to match him passion for passion. He could, and did, stand his ground unflinchingly even when faced with the worst of Madara’s tempers. Tobirama was intelligent, hardworking, and beyond dedicated to the causes and people he considered his own. He cared for their village and all the people in it just as much as Madara did. He was also strong, able to go toe to toe, and occasionally even beat, Izuna and hold his own against Hashirama or Madara himself. It didn’t help that the Senju was absolutely beautiful. Lean and pale he was like moonlight given form, except for the twin gems he called eyes. So, Madara found himself caught in a sort of limbo where he watched and wanted from afar, almost wishing that his mark would fade so he would be free to approach. The whole thing left him feeling guilty and wrong-footed which was in turn making him even more irritable than normal. This, ironically, ended up being what brought everything to a head.

It was a lovely day and Hashirama had decided that his brother and best friend both needed to relax. To this end he had wheedled, and nagged, and begged, and pouted, until they had both agreed to come with him to the onsen after work. Tobirama, as was his habit, made sure that the towel around his hips was secured in such a way that it covered his soulmark. While he did this every time he visited the onsen it was especially important this trip since the two people he was with were also the last two people he ever wanted to see his mark. Hashirama would cry and try to push them together, and Madara…well, just because Tobirama had forced himself to accept that Madara didn’t want anything to do with him or their bond didn’t mean that he wanted to hear the other man say so.

“Oh hey, Madara, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your soulmark before!” His brother was exclaiming, peering intently at the Uchiha’s chest. Tobirama was quite surprised since he had assumed that Madara would have found some way to cover or hide his mark as Tobirama did. He was also confused; this was not how his brother would react to seeing his name on the other. He’d been so certain, the Uchiha’s handwriting even looked the same, but maybe, maybe he’d been wrong? Maybe there was another Madara out there, or, maybe he had a broken bond. Maybe he was matched to Madara, but Madara wasn’t matched to him. “Have you found them yet?” Asked his oblivious brother.

“Obviously not!” Madara snapped. “I’ve asked around, but apparently there is no one named Tetsuo anywhere in Konoha”. Tobirama stumbled and almost fell as he walked towards them, much to their obvious surprise. He didn’t really care though, not when he was able to catch sight of Madara’s chest himself. It was there, written as if by his own hand in black ink above the other’s heart. It was there and it explained everything.

“Tetsuo” he whispered, almost reverently. He then followed that up by facepalming and saying, “I am such an idiot!” He’d assumed that because Tobirama was the name used most often it would be the name on his mate’s mark. That had become especially true after Hashirama met Mito and she’d had his common name on her. In hindsight it seemed obvious, of course the mark would read Tetsuo! The marks were linked to their souls, to their purest essence and, at the core, he’d always seen himself as Tetsuo, not Tobirama. Mito’s mark had read Hashirama because that was the name his brother saw as his, not because it was the one more commonly used. And of course Madara had never approached him, he had no idea that he had a name other than Tobirama, let alone that it matched his mark and that they were soulmates!

“Tobi-Tetsu-oh, OH!” Hashirama exclaimed, looking between the two of them in shock. He hadn’t even thought, but yes, now that he looked again that was definitely his brother’s handwriting and Tobi had always been so careful to hide his mark, even from Hashirama! He hadn’t realized at first because, like his brother, he’d expected the name written on his match to be Tobirama. “Oh, I’m so happy!” He cried, tears dripping down his cheeks.

“What?” Madara asked, glancing between the two Senju. “What are you talking about? Have you both gone crazy?!” He ignored the thought in the back of his mind, the idea that they were reacting like this because they knew who his soulmate was. He also ignored the hope, worry, dread, sorrow, and longing churning inside him. That, at least, seemed to bring them back into reality. The brothers exchanged a look.

“I’m just going to um…go somewhere that is not here” Hashirama finally said, all but fleeing. Madara was getting even more confused and now he had only one possible source of explanation.

“What the hell Senju?” He demanded, placing his hands on his hips and giving Tobirama a look which clearly conveyed, ‘explain now’. Unusually for him the Senju seemed to fidget under Madara’s glare. He looked hesitant for a moment before seeming to reach some sort of decision.

“I’ll explain, just-not here” he said. Madara finally remembers that they were in the changing room of a public onsen clad only in towels and had to agree that was fair. The two quickly changed back into their clothes and then Tobirama grabbed his hand and they disappeared. They reappeared in the living room of a house Madara had never seen before.

“My home” Tobirama answered his unspoken question. “Please sit, I did promise you an explanation”. Madara follows the suggestion while Tobirama stays where he is, leaning on the wall facing Madara and still fidgeting. The silence stretches on before Madara makes a pointed ‘well, get on with it’ gesture. Tobirama takes a deep breath and does.

“As you likely guessed by our reactions, Hashirama and I know who your soulmate is” the younger Senju starts off with, and Madara swallows. “I will tell you who it is, but there are some things I have to explain to you first.” Madara is surprised, but nods, willing to listen. Perhaps his soulmate has health issues, or is on a long-term undercover mission?

“The Hatake, like every other clan, has certain traditions and beliefs not well known outside the clan. One of these is that they give every child two names. They believe that true names hold power, so all children on their blood are given an outside name they can use instead of their true name” Tobirama explains. Madara is confused, while interesting this history lesson on the Hatake does not seem particularly relevant. “What many forget us that our mother, Hashirama’s and mine, was originally a Hatake. She gave up much from her clan when she wed father, but she did not loose the beliefs she had been brought up with. So, when she had her children, she gave us each two names.” Here the Senju pauses and seems to brace himself before starting directly into Madara’s eyes.

“Tobirama is not my name, not really. It is my outside name, the name I was given to shield my true name so it could not be used against me. My true name, the mane my mother gave me out of love, is Tetsuo, and I am your soulmate” he confessed.

Madara felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He was frozen to his spot, unable to react and unsure how he would even if he could. Emotions flew through him, there and gone only to be replaced a moment later. Shock, he’d found his soulmate? Anger, his soulmate had been in front of him, had known all this time, and had done nothing?! Relief, he’d found his soulmate! Confusion, his soulmate was the man he loved? Awe and wonder, Tobirama was Tetsuo, was his soulmate. The man he loved and his soul’s match were one and the same!

“Madara?” Tobirama’s concerned voice finally roused him back to reality. He blinked his eyes a few times and was surprised to feel a few tears escape. Tobirama (his soulmate!) was crouched in front of him, face twisted in worry with an arm reaching out for him, but now quite touching. “Madara?” He asked again.

“I’m okay” Madara assured him, “just surprised. But-” here he hesitated, but he needed to know. “But if you knew we were soulmates-you do have my name, don’t you?-why didn’t you say anything before now?” His heart pounded in his chest and he held his breath, waiting for the answer. Tobi-Tetsuo looked embarrassed.

“I, well, to be blunt, I thought you weren’t interested” he explained. Madara blinked, rather taken aback, and Tetsuo rushed to elaborate. “I do have your name, always have. During the war I assumed you would never be able to want a Senju and then when peace came and you never said anything, I figured it meant you weren’t interested in me, so I tried to respect that and stay away. I never even thought that the mark might read Tetsuo, never imagined you might not know.” By the end he was blushing adorably and Madara’s heart was swelling with happiness and hope.

“You want this? Want me?” He has to ask, has to be sure.

“More than anything” Tetsuo whispered, voice thick with emotion, and Madara can’t resist anymore. He grabs the man he’d been loving from afar for months and drags him into a kiss. Tetsuo responds enthusiastically, and doesn’t protest even as Madara drags him closer and closer until he’s sitting on the Uchiha’s lap.

“Mine” Madara whispers reverently once he’s finally pulled away from the other enough to speak. “My soulmate”. Tetsuo beams at him.

“Always” he swears and, for the first time, Madara feels complete.

[the-council-of-new-york-vampires]

A Council For New York

Bloodbound Fanfiction

Summary: Get your 1920s dictionaries ready: Gaius’ former underlings meet to discuss the new idea of a Council!

Characters: Adrian Raines, Kamilah Sayeed, The Baron, Lester Castellanos, Adam Vega, Priya Lacroix

It was a dark night in the 1920s when Adrian and Kamilah were sitting at a table in a restaurant, in their minds debating whether this was a mistake. Regardless, it became plain that the answer didn’t really matter: As soon as they saw The Baron and his men enter, they knew there was no going back anymore.

He approached the two, his dead eyes set on them. Yet, he didn’t greet them, just sat down at the opposite of them on the padded bench that was surrounding the table. His men followed, wearing suits and emotionless faces, and sat down close to their boss, quiet as well.

Immediately, Kamilah scowled at his companions. “This is supposed to be a peaceful meeting.”

The Baron’s neutral face turned into an angry one... Not that there was much of a difference. “You won’t let me bring my thugs?”

“It was said explicitly that only future Council members are welcome,” Kamilah responded in anger. “I demand you send them out!”

The Baron’s eyes narrowed at her as he began to growl, showing nothing but disgust and hatred towards Kamilah with just this reaction. Obviously, he was quite unsure what to do next.

“Now!” she added angrily. Kamilah was two millennia old - she could fight a newly Turned vampire in her sleep.

He continued to stare at her in anger, before deciding to play it safe by turning to his thugs and sending them out. The next few minutes he spent eyeing Kamilah and Adrian with an angry face, his arms crossed over his chest.

The uncomfortable atmosphere was temporary stopped by Lester approaching the table.

“Good evening, Lester,” Adrian greeted, obviously attempting to lighten up the mood at least to some extent.

“Good evening, Adrian,” Lester merely replied when taking a seat as well. “And hello, Kamilah.”

“Hello, Lester.”

It was plain that everyone knew each other rather well... Except for one. Lester faced The Baron, who was sitting the farest away from the others, and asked, “You here, too?”

Before The Baron could get in any way offended, Adrian revealed, “We thought it was a good idea to invite The Baron as well, since he has defeated Gaius with us.” The last bit of the sentence ‘...And is too powerful to have as an enemy’ was something he left out on purpose. The Council would be an alliance that was supposed to work as smoothly as possible.

“That’s alright with me,” Lester answered, seeming as if he hadn’t had a horrible day at his plant... Unlike sometimes when the men he was constantly oppressing were rebelling against his ways of unfair payment and dangerous work.

Minutes passed until it was the right time once again for Lester to ask his favorite question. “Where’s Vega?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian answered, “but let’s not order until we are complete.”

Slowly but surely, even Lester was seeming to get angry. “We said 9 pm. He’s almost twenty minutes late!”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Adrian merely replied coldly.

“He’s never on time! Seriously, if he isn’t here in five minutes, we will rule him out!” Lester predicted angrily. “No Clan for him, then!”

“We won’t,” Kamilah decided in a voice that was calm, yet displaying absolutely no interest in debating her words.

Lester scowled at her. He was obviously angry, yet didn’t seem willing to debate Kamilah on the topic.

It was then that Vega approached the table, wearing a polished smile on his face, Priya pulled close by an arm he had wrapped around her waist. “Hello, friends!” he greeted them, suddenly bringing positive energy to the seemingly upset table. “We’re truly sorry for the delay!”

“Couldn’t stop the barneymugging,” Priya mumbled to herself with a smirk.

The others watched their arrival with neutral faces, Lester with an angry one, as the couple sat down as well, thereby completing the Council.

Immediately, The Baron asked, “The girl, too?”

Even Kamilah was surprised. “Apparently?”

“Priya here did a great job helping us to take down Gaius, so we figured it would only be fair if she received her own Clan in return,” Vega explained smoothly.

Kamilah faced the rather young vampire critically. Honestly, she had already disliked her the first time she had seen her, weeks ago. Her careless party girl personality mixed with her ridiculously incorrect slang language... Naturally, Kamilah had her doubts about Priya’s responsibility. “And she is able to lead an entire Clan?”

“Absolutely,” Vega assured her. “Priya is a very intelligent woman with truly superior leading qualities. Isn’t it so, doll?”

“Banana oil!”

He nudged her, scowling, apparently unhappy with the answer.

“Err, totes! I’m no Dumb Dora!”

Kamilah raised a very sceptic eyebrow. While Vega had seemed convincing enough, Priya had somehow managed to take that security away with words Kamilah hadn’t even understood.

The six were interrupted by a waitress who was - after creepy flirting coming from Lester’s side of the table - taking their orders. After she left the table, Adrian and Kamilah could see that private conversations between both Lester and The Baron and Adam and Priya had come up.

Adrian looked to the left...

“So, Baron, when were you Turned?”

“Just a few weeks ago.”

...Kamilah to the right...

“Babes, I think I forgot my wallet.”

“Doll, you own a wallet?”

...as they met each other’s glances again, and Kamilah cleared her throat loudly.

Then, all eyes were on her.

“Excuse me, but we came together to discuss the new Council,” she reminded them calmly. “As the Senior member, I will be leading the discussion, as well as future votes and the like.”

An age-based hierarchy was something The Baron seemed to dislike as he asked in anger, “Senior member?”

“Yes. I am by far the oldest, so it is the most logical solution for me to lead us. But that’ll be all. We’re a democracy, and my voice won’t count more than yours.”

“So what do I get?” Lester asked, unafraid to hide his selfishness. “I’m the second oldest.”

“You’re my backup,” Kamilah decided, “in case I will ever be missing.”

“And I’m the backup’s backup?” Vega asked, apparently not uninterested in this chance of power and authority over the others.

Kamilah tried not to roll her eyes. “Yes.”

“So, if I kill both you and Lester, I’ll rule over the Council?” he asked, suddenly wearing a smile.

Priya laughed, but Kamilah scowled at him immediately.

“I’m just kidding,” he answered, trying to calm her down with the exact same trustworthy smile. “Just trying to lighten up the mood! What’s the next point?”

“Sectors,” Adrian threw in. “Sectors and brands.”

“It makes sense for every Clan to have an own sector, something to specialize in,” Kamilah explained. “For example, Adam, you’re a politician, so your sector could be politics, The Baron’s crime, since he’s a crime boss. However, the sectors don’t need to be certain so soon. The more fields we cover, the bigger our benefits will be.”

“With crime, I could fight you all,” The Baron claimed.

“We work together, not against each other,” Kamilah explained, scowling for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Sure,” The Baron answered, not seeming to care that his answer sounded less than convincing.

“Enough about the sectors,” Lester demanded. “You were saying something about brands?”

“Well, yes, we all need a brand for our Clan members,” Kamilah elaborated.

It was then that Priya spoke up. “Can my friends be my Clan members? ‘Cause I won’t allow ugly people in my Clan.”

Kamilah felt the sudden urge to roll her eyes. A single stupid question and, of course, it had to come from Priya. She answered, “If you brand them, sure. It’s on you to decide who to let into your Clan, but remember that you only have 29 open spots.”

“And what if Vega gifts me Clan gifts?” she just asked.

Lester turned to Kamilah, immediately wanting to know, “What are Clan gifts?”

For the first time, Kamilah seemed mentally exhausted. “I don’t know. I think she just invented that.”

Laughter came from Vega’s and Priya’s side of the table, and she said “Y’all, we def need to make Clan gifts a thing.”

Kamilah felt like losing it with her, but, finally, the food was served, saving her from explaining that probably no one would ever gift the other’s Clan anything, and therefore ‘Clan gifts’ were a baseless concept.

When everyone was either eating or complaining about the food, Kamilah, who had been observing the scene, was addressed by Adrian. “Are you enjoying the night, Kamilah? At least, partly?” he wanted to know, as caring as always.

“I will have enjoyed it if no one ends up dead,” Kamilah just answered coldly, eyes particularly on The Baron, the tone of her voice so serious that Adrian couldn’t tell whether she was joking or not.

“Just... try to socialize,” he advised her. “I mean, we know Lester and Vega, but there are two faces we don’t really know and maybe, just maybe, could befriend.”

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “Befriend? Brother, are you asking me to befriend that ruthless gangster to my left? Or this brainless party girl to my right?”

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “Let me start a conversation for us.” He turned to his right, preferring a girl that smelled like smoke and too much of expensive perfume over a guy that smelled like blood sausage and cigar ash. “Priya, is it?”

She looked at him, Vega as well, both of them smiling like usually. “Pos-i-lute-ly,” she answered, apparently in a good mood.

Adrian wanted to say something back, but Priya was faster, pointing at him and Kamilah and asking, “Sheik and Sheba?”

Adrian raised both eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

After uttering a laugh, Vega turned to Priya and told her, obviously amused, “They’re not.”

“Oh.”

Adrian shook his head, perplexed, but wanting to keep the conversation going. “You’re... an interesting couple.”

“He’s my daddy.”

Adrian just gaped. “Uh...”

Even Vega seemed embarrassed, mumbling to his girlfriend, “Doll, you should stop with the slang... They don’t quite understand it...”

Priya presented him a sad face. “Rhatz! I love slang.”

After a few seconds of silence, Adrian cleared his throat, and asked, “So, Priya, do you work in politics, too?” Obviously, the answer was no, but straight up asking if she was employed at all seemed rude.

As expected, both of them laughed, and Priya just said, “Ew, no. I hate politics.”

“Priya is more of a free spirit,” Vega told them happily with a smile that was slightly different, somehow more... sincere. As if he really did feel something for that woman.

Suddenly, Kamilah asked exactly what Adrian had assumed to be too bold: “So, she’s unemployed?”

Vega’s expression darkened immediately. He seemed honestly angry. “No, she’s not unemployed. Please don’t judge her without knowing her at all. Thank you.”

Kamilah doubted the truth of his statement, but asked anyway, the question directed at Priya. “Fine, then, what do you do for a living, Priya?”

She looked up at Vega, as if unsure what to say, who looked at her, then back at the two as he answered, “Priya works in the artistic field. Like I said, she’s incredibly creative. You should see her drawings, they’re fantastic.”

“Fair enough,” Kamilah judged coldly. “Can she also speak for herself, or do you do that for her?”

“She can, if I allow her.”

Priya nudged her boyfriend playfully, grinning, just like him. “Oh, shut up.”

Kamilah rolled her eyes at their dynamic.

Their conversation was interrupted by Lester who asked, directing it at everyone, “So, about the brands, can we just... decide them, or what?”

“Someone would need to come up with the designs,” Adrian answered. “But besides that... Sure.”

“And who’s gonna do that?” The Baron asked, somehow even seeming angry when calm.

Kamilah raised an eyebrow. Maybe she was underestimating Priya. If this wasn’t one of Vega’s made up stories, designing brands for each Clan could actually be a way for Priya to prove that she was in fact underrated. So, Kamilah asked, willing to give her a chance, “Priya, maybe?”

Vega leaned forward immediately, taking his hand away from Priya’s waist and folding it with the other one on the table. His voice seemed calm, yet there was a hint of anger Kamilah couldn’t help but notice. “Sure, what’s your offer?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Excuse me?”

“Well,” Vega answered with a laugh, “Priya here is not going to work for free.”

“I will not pay her for a brand design,” Kamilah stated coldly.

“Me neither,” The Baron agreed. “I could as well throw my money directly into a fire.”

“I’d pay that sexy lady for something else,” Lester said, presenting a flirtly smile to Priya, “...But not for a design.”

“Fuck y’all,” Priya said angrily, her angry expression immediately becoming a surprised one when she felt Vega's knee nudging hers, hard, under the table. “...Ow!”

“Then it’s settled,” Kamilah stated, simply overhearing her comment, but noting it in the back of her mind, “Everyone will come up with their own designs.”

Adrian turned to her and asked, “So, shall we come to the most important part?”

Kamilah faced him, and they nodded. Then, she focused back on the four pairs of brown eyes looking at her. “Right. Rules.”

It was as if The Baron’s and Priya’s shoulders slumped down just a bit in that moment, displaying disappointment.

“We will design a Pact and all give a signature. Any violation against the Pact will get punished,” Kamilah stated coldly.

“Like, by giving up a fancy Clan member?” Priya asked.

“No,” Kamilah answered, looking her dead in the eyes. “By death.”

She just gaped. “Oh!”

“And in that case?” Lester asked, apparently not halfly as surprised as Priya.

“The dead member’s possessions will get inherited by the rest of the Council,” Kamilah explained. “Details we should develop later.”

“And what if only one Clan is left?” The Baron asked. “Assuming, one Council member kills all the others.”

Suddenly, Priya was the only one laughing.

Kamilah looked at The Baron in anger. “Is that a serious question?”

The face he presented her was not less angry. “Do you think I’d ask a joke question?”

Before their conversation could escalate, Adrian answered, “We should decide that there always have to be six Clans, meaning a dead member would get replaced by a person of another Clan.”

“’Kay, and what are the Clan names?” Priya asked.

Adrian told her, “It’s up to you to decide-”

...But got interrupted by Kamilah. “Surnames. We will all use our surnames.”

“Then what’s his surname?” she asked, pointing at The Baron.

Kamilah was quiet, actually waiting for him to answer, but he just said, “Baron. My Clan’s name is Baron.”

“I asked for your surname, not your Clan’s name, gramps,” she said rudely.

Lester laughed. “Gramps.”

....But The Baron gave him a look so angry that he shut up immediately, excusing himself to the restroom rather quickly. Then, The Baron turned to Priya. “Can you say that again, you cheap ass whore?”

Vega almost choked on his drink. “What did you just call her?!”

“A cheap ass whore. You wanna fight me about it, pretty boy?”

“Don’t!” Kamilah’s incredibly quick reflexes came to a use when she jumped up in a heartbeat, positioning herself between Vega and The Baron, and shoving Vega to the back.

“Get out of my way!” he demanded, unwilling to hurt Kamilah.

“No!” she said back to him, as unwilling to use violence. “Sit down!”

“He insulted my girlfriend!” Vega uttered, still somehow trying to reach The Baron behind Kamilah.

“Bump him off, Addy!” Priya cheered, both angry and entertained at the same time. “Give it to him!”

Her words animated him even more as he shouted, “Move, Kamilah!”

“Sit down!” Kamilah finally used her superior strength to push Vega away, who was then grabbed and pulled back by Adrian. That, before anyone else had to get in the way.

“Let go of me!” Vega demanded, still fully enraged.

The Baron simply shook his head. “That’s it, I’m leaving. Had my thugs been allowed to stay, they would have taken care of him.” Then, he got up and left, as rudely as he had entered.

Kamilah approached Vega in anger, who seemed to be slowly calming down without being forced to look at The Baron. “Adam! What was that?”

“Did you hear this guy? How does he have permission for a Clan? He’s a crime boss!”

“We don’t want him against us. Do this again and I won’t be as lenient!”

“You? I should have killed him!”

“That’s against the Pact,” Adrian said as calmly as possible. “Forgot?”

“Frick the Pact!” Priya cursed, grabbing her tiny designer bag when getting up from the bench. “Come on, babes, let’s blouse!”

Adam turned away from them, as Adrian let go of him, and within a few seconds, the couple left, each a cigarette in their mouth and an arm around the other’s waist.

Adrian and Kamilah could only shake their heads. As half of all people had left, the meeting could officially be labelled as ‘failed’.

When Lester came back from the restroom a minute later, he was surprised to find an empty table.

It was then that the waitress approached him.

“Hello, cutie. How’s it going?” he asked, smirking at her yet again.

“Good. Are you ready to pay?”

“For your body? Sure.”

“For the food.” She suddenly reminded him, “Your companions left. The bill is on you.”

[stacks-reviews]

New Releases 7/24/27

Happy New Release Day!

In Books --The Backstagers volume 1 by James Tynion IV and illustrated by Rian Sygh “All the world’s a stage...but what happens behind the curtain is pure magic literally! When Jory transfers to an all-boys private high school, he is taken in by the only ones who don’t treat him like a new kid, the lowly stage crew known as the Backstagers. Not only does he gain great, lifetime friends, Jory is also introduced to an entire magical world that lives beyond the curtain. With the unpredictable twists and turns of the underground world, the Backstagers venture into the unknown, determined to put together the best play their high school has ever seen.”

I love everything about this. I hope it’ll be as good as it sounds. I mean, a magical boy band. Or at least a boy band that will travel to a magical world. What’s not to like.

--Daughter of the Burning City by Amanda Foody The Gomorrah Festival is a traveling carnival of debauchery, catering to the strangest of dreams and desires. Sorina has spent most of her life on the borders of the festival as an illusion-worker, the only one to be born in hundreds of years. She creates illusions that you can see, feel and touch, that even have personalities. Sorina’s creations are like her family even though she knows that they are not truly real. At least until one of them is murdered. Desperate to save her family Sorina will venture into the most sinister corners of the Festival to unravel the horrifying truth.

I started thinking about Cirque de Freak by Darren Shan the moment I read the description. Purely because of a creepy carnival. I’ve never read that series by him but I have read a few books of his series The Demonata. 

I’m really enjoying Sorina’s illusion powers. I like how she can make them touchable. I’m already debating if she might somehow be summoning her ancestors, maybe even pulling people from other dimensions, or just being so creative that she can create almost anything and make it real. Or even unknowingly putting a bit of herself into each creation, giving them life that they may grow and develop on their own. Either way it sounds like it would be pretty good. I’m curious to see what all powers might reside deeper in the carnival. And just what kind of power is able to kill illusions.

--Descending Stories: Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju volume 2 by Haruko Kumota Yotaro has been accepted as Yakumo’s apprentice and a member of his household. Taking in this young man forces Yakumo to confront his past and promises that were left unfulfilled. He thinks of his friend and rival, Sukeroku. He remembers growing up in a Japan changing after the war. And of a woman named Miyokichi.

The second volume of the manga that the hit anime of the same name is based on. Although this series is about Yotaro and Konatsu (a woman who would like to perform rakugo but is stopped by her legal guardian; Yakumo, because he believes in the old style that prevents woman from peforming rakugo) learning rakugo and performing. It is also a tale of Yakumo as he confronts his past.

--Fairy Tail volume 61 by Hiro Mashima “The meaning of family. As the most powerful wizards of Fairy Tail face off against the remaining members of The Twelve, their hearts, relationships, and skills will be put to the test. The battle between Erza and Irene reaches an emotional conclusion, Gray shows how far he’s willing to go to save his dearest friends, and the love of a father sparks a shocking revelation from August. As Natsu and Zeref’s showdown approaches, both enemies and friends must ask themselves who their true family is!”

Honestly, I have fallen behind on Fairy Tail. The last volume I read was 54. I’m slowly trying to catch back up. It’s not that I don’t like the series anymore, although I don’t know if I could still call it one of my top current favorites. I had to cut back due to when I left one of my part-time jobs. Although the one I kept had fewer hours, it allowed me to focus on college and my homework more. I don’t really know what is going on currently, except for the fact that it is near the end of the final arc. I want to be all caught up by the time the final volume; 63, comes out. 

--First We Were IV by Alexandra Sirowy “It started for pranks, fun, and forever memories. A secret society - for the four of us. The rules: Never Lie. Never tell. Love each other. We made the pledge and danced under the blood moon on the meteorite in the orchard. In the spot we found the dead girl five years earlier. And discovered the ancient drawings way before that. Nothing could break the four of us apart - I thought. But then, others wanted in. Our seaside town had secrets. History. We wanted revenge. We broke the rules. We lied. We told. We loved each other too much, not enough, and in ways we weren’t supposed to. Our invention ratcheted out of control. What started as a secret society, ended as justice. Revenge. Death. Rebellion.”

The first time I looked this book up, I wasn’t too crazy. Labeled it as a maybe. I don’t know if Goodreads had a different description or if I just liked it more the second time around. It sounds like it could be a pretty good mystery. My guess right now, is that by creating IV they might have gotten the idea from a old group who called themselves the same. And somehow in the process maybe committed some kind of magic ritual that maybe activated some old ghosts from the previous group. I hope it has something to do with an ancient civilization.

--Generation Witch volume 1 by Isaki Uta One percent of the population is made up of witches. Some look up to witches, some envy them. But these abilities can sometimes be more of a curse than a blessing, as any witch knows. Growing up requires a lot of luck and effort for a teenager, so what happens when you throw spirits, magic, and broomsticks into the mix?

I couldn’t really find any information regarding this manga other than the description. It appears to be pretty new. It sounds like a cute coming of age story and it kind of makes me think of Flying Witch; which I have neither seen nor read but I would like to, and Kiki’s Delivery Service. In terms of a young witch trying to learn her craft throughout her day to day life. 

--Strange Practice (paperback) by Vivian Shaw Greta Helsing uses her family’s highly specialized, and highly peculiar, medical practice as a doctor to the undead. Keeping the supernatural community not-alive in London has been the Helsing’s specialty for generations. She treats vocal strain in banshees, arthritis in barrow-wights, and entropy in mummies. It’s a quiet, supernatural-adjacent life Greta’s been groomed into since childhood. Quiet until a group of murderous monks appears, killing human and undead Londoners. It’s up to Greta to use her unusual skills to stop the cult if she hopes to save her practice and her life.

I’m a fan of seeing supernatural creatures just trying to live their lives. Where not all of them are necessarily evil. Some just want to live. I’m gonna point the blame at Inuyasha on this one cause I think that’s the first place I ever ran across the idea of not all monsters are evil. I think. Plus, I just like seeing the twist of a Helsing helping supernatural creatures instead of hunting them.

In Movies --Gifted A story of a man raising his very intelligent niece after her mother died so that she may live an ordinary life. His mother finds out where they live, believes her granddaughter’s talents are being wasted, and tries to gain custody of her. 

It was a really cute story starring Chris Evans. And Mckenna Grace was adorable as Mary. I loved their characters relationship in the film. It was a very touching movie.

--Ghost in the Shell This entry will contain some spoilers at the end about the end of the movie. You have been warned.

The live action adaptation of the amazing manga, anime film, and anime series. On IMDb the description of the live action version is as follows: “In the near future, Major is the first of her kind: A human saved from a terrible crash, who is cyber-enhanced to be a perfect soldier devoted to stopping the world’s most dangerous criminals”

Really just putting this up because I’ll be getting it someday to be able to finish my collection. That’s about it. The effects of this movie were very well done. I really appreciated the fact that there were references to each form of this series. I remember seeing scenes that I know were only in the manga, some scenes that were in the original film, some scenes from S.A.C., and some nods to Arise. I had some issues with what they did to the story. I love GitS. The anime is easily one of my top favorites and I have a lot of respect and love towards Major Motoko Kusanagi. I tried my very best to see the movie as its own universe. Easy enough since each form has been its own universe. But there were just some things here and there that I couldn’t get past. Which I could go into all the details but that should probably be on a post more dedicated to it. But I will mention that I was slightly disappointed that she was not shot in the head at the end. In each other version, that happened at least once. And they ruined my OTP. Due to plot, I gathered that the Major is really aged somewhere between 16 and 18. While Batou looks like he’s in his 30′s. I can’t approve of it. They ruined my ship in this version and for that I will never forgive them.