#southern shooting center

[loudlylovingreview]

Brett Wilkins: The 'Bigoted Conspiracy Caucus' in US Congress

“Invasion and great replacement theory rhetoric, both deeply rooted in white nationalist and antisemitic tropes, are no longer a bug on the Hill, they are a regular feature,” said one campaigner.  Republican U.S. lawmakers who embrace and amplify racist, xenophobic, and antisemitic conspiracy theories about undocumented immigrants are helping to stoke deadly politically motivated violence,…

[benandstevesposts]

Suspects Found But No Charges - Says Prosecutor

Suspects Found But No Charges – Says Prosecutor

https://elkcmesaz.tumblr.com/post/699927814097534976/cops-hood-cnn-reporters-murder-solved-but-no https://assets.tumblr.com/post.js

[wilwheaton]

Polling from the Southern Poverty Law Center last year showed 68% of Republican voters believe increasing racial diversity is "not a natural change but has been motivated by progressive and liberal leaders actively trying to leverage political power by replacing more conservative white voters." Republican voters have been trained to see people of color not as fellow human beings, but as an existential threat to themselves. That mentality, as history tells us, leads straight to genocidal thinking. Stories like this, where victims of a mass shooting are predominantly people of color, function on two levels for the Republican base. It stokes fear of chaos, justifying their desire for fascistic leadership. But it also satisfies their cruel desire to inflict pain on immigrants, or see them erased entirely.

Greg Abbott demonized the victims of the Texas shooting. It says a lot about why the GOP loves guns

The cruelty is the point.

[accio-victuuri]

Wang Yibo Bazaar January Issue feature article

What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

Faced with a public figure does not speak, should we choose to remain silent and just observe and speculate, or should we continue to build a bridge of dialogue at eye level and continue to ask questions?

This is a question Wang Yibo asked us.

We are happy to receive and answer - to come calmly without presuppositions, to follow only the intuitive guidance of the moment, to eliminate biased thoughts, and to see him as a "person" first.

This is not an article written just to fill the page. Perhaps what I can tell you truthfully is that every word in it was written at the filming site of this work, and was typed word by word at a distance of less than 20 meters away from the person I was working on - Wang Yibo. It seems that this is necessary to ensure the immediacy and time-limited nature of this creation.

It is full of questions that may not be asked even if they sit down and face to face. Perhaps it is precisely because there is no need for conclusive or chaotic answers that these questions become more reckless, direct and useless.

In the end, not only did the answer no longer matter, but it became increasingly unclear who the question was addressed to.

Wang Yibo: What you see is what you get

Written by: Lu Yanni

In a huge room surrounded by cement, there are two small temporary spaces surrounded by black cloth: the larger one is a shooting room, and the other smaller one is a space where people can watch movies and rest at any time. There were some white folding chairs inside, which were only occasionally empty throughout the cover shoot.

For more than four hours, the only thing that never stopped here was the music - some of which were from the editor's private playlist, and some of which were specially requested by Wang Yibo. They may be psychedelic, light, noisy, or strange, difficult to classify and describe, but no matter what the style and rhythm of the music are, they are all consistent and uninterrupted.

Wang Yibo just kept his head down and said nothing, even sternly smiling, and immersed himself in doing what everyone who came to him wanted him to do. Are all similar jobs the same? Does every day of his life look exactly like the same day?

The music was so loud that people could jump inside. He remained silent, without saying a word. There was nothing but silence.

He squatted down, covering his face with his hands, and then his head. His hands messed up his hair.

He half-knelt until he gradually fell to the ground. He curled up into a ball. He looked up. He bent over and simply lay flat on the ground, one leg bent, the other leg also bent, and his hands spread out and stretched forward. He fell directly to the ground. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hands on the white floor paper.

He said nothing, nothing but silence. Where is he lying?

I suddenly thought of his name being screamed out by the crowd in that small southern town more than a thousand miles away half a month ago, and the moment of silence when the lights went out in theaters one after another in contrast to the noise. , he sat down in the seat that belonged to him for a short period of time, and could occasionally get a moment of calm and peaceful listening time in the dark.

What shape and color is the peace he needs? Does he need peace?

The stylist used a tool to curl the bangs on the wig to make them fly a little more, then sprayed them with moisture, pulled them up, and sprayed them with hairspray to make them look messy and branched. He closed his eyes and let it all happen. That's not his hair. What does that lock of hair have to do with him?

A group of people squatted there, surrounding him in the center. The umbrella-shaped light illuminated him, and all he could hear was the snapping of the shutter and the blinking of the flash at the same frequency. It was as if a group of people had discovered some rare plants in the mountains and were sampling them very quietly and carefully. He sat there, occupying only the size of a corner.

Is this a rare moment of relaxation for him? "Relaxation" - it's just our guess. How can one person experience what he is feeling moment by moment for another person? Whether it is one-way or two-way, how easy is it to "understand" between people?

He stood up again, covering his head with his hands, as if he had just hit something, or as if the fight had just ended.

He tilted his head back slightly and took a deep breath. Was it exhaustion? Or some other feeling?

The staff passed by and sighed softly: "The shooting was too intense!"

Looking back, Wang Yibo was curled up in a ball and lying on the ground again. The photographer asked his assistant for a tissue, and he caught himself sweating profusely.

Wang Yibo was still lying on the ground, his body stretched further.

Reputation, what is it?

Is there anything else that can rival the vanity that comes with being in the spotlight?

If he were willing to give one thing in exchange for everything he has now, what would his answer be? What would your answer be?

Will prosperity last forever?

"I know why you wanna hate me! (I know why you wanna hate me!)" "

I know why you wanna hate me!"

The music has changed. Clothes changed. His body also seemed to be suddenly injected with a strength that would not be easily suppressed. Wearing a white vest, jeans, and chewing gum, Wang Yibo smiled, danced involuntarily to the music, and sang along, his voice getting louder and louder. The chorus was repeated once, twice, three times, four times...

"I know why you wanna hate me!"

"I know why you wanna hate me!"

He jumped up. His long arms and legs were swinging in the air.

What kind of opportunities and luck are needed to eliminate other people’s prejudices against you or your own prejudices against others? Is this something that can be controlled by just relying on the rise and fall of one's own ideas?

The next picture is the cover picture. Everyone is working hard to get as high a score as possible. His silence then became deeper.

Someone was saying, "Let's not act like a cover photo shoot... just be normal." So everyone laughed together, trying to relieve some of the pressure and tension, but he remained silent.

What are we creating?

He was leaning on the sofa, looking lazily at the camera, suddenly closing his eyes and leaning on the back of the sofa. How can we know what he is thinking at this time? Does he really enjoy this? A question that doesn't expect an answer at all. Who am I talking to? Who am I asking? A tree, a piece of cream cake, a chair, a bolt of lightning?

On this blank screen, a new face and a new piece of clothing appear every month. What does he, who occupies the center of the screen, think about such rapid changes? Is there any panic? If not, then where is his panic? Does he think his panic has merit? Why do so many things have to be assigned so-called "value"? Who stipulates that people must prepare for a rainy day? Can't we make a decision after it rains? So what if it rains and it’s too late to make a decision? It's nothing more than getting soaked all over. It will be fine if the sun comes out the next day to dry it off.

Things seem to be getting a little more difficult.

"We have to get this cover picture out..."

"How about everyone disperse and stop crowding around him."

It's so hot in the room.

What else could he do? He couldn't go anywhere but stay where he was. Doesn't he want so many people surrounding him? Is he afraid of crowds? Didn't he live for the crowds and the attention of everyone? What does he want to live for? What do you hope to see from him when you pay attention to him?

If a little bit of the world is enough for him, how big is that "little bit"? What are the essentials?

There was a burst of cheers and applause, and everyone was very excited. He suddenly raised his arms in the slightly depressed atmosphere, and wow, the photo was finally "available".

“Well done!”

[quickiesgirl]

Distraction - Joel Miller

Paring: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warning: 18+, Smut, Dom/Sub, Car sex(ish?), Vaginal Fingering, Hand Kink, Dirty Talk, Older Man/Younger Women, Established Relationship, My Shitty Writing.

A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a few months and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out so I hope all the slutty Joel lovers enjoy.

Kinktober 27 - Car Sex

Romantic oldies played on the radio as you sat in the passenger seat, chin weighing in the palm of your hand while your teeth sunk tightly into your lip, acting as if you were gazing out the window at the radiant stars filling the sky. 

Though the night was beautiful, you had something else on your mind for the past hour, Joel Miller. 

 His arm was across the truck's center console with his large, appealing hand reached across, comfortably cupping your inner thigh, fingers molding into your plushness, while the other remained on the steering wheel. 

This simple, loving action reminded you of the lustful effect he had on your body. 

You looked to the side and gave yourself a moment to admire your partner. His coffee-brown gaze concentrated on the dimly lit road ahead with small wrinkles creasing near his eyes, graying scuffle along his jaw, leading up to his teased hair. Your legs pushed together, seeking relief from the ache between your legs.  

“See somethin’ you like, sugar?” Joel interrupted your train of thought with that husky, southern accent.  

“Maybe,” You shoot a flirtatious smile his way, feeling his thumb graze back and forth across your smooth, supple skin, making a shiver roll down your spine. 

It was instinctive nature to be close to you, always touching you in some way, just like he was now. Occasionally, he would remove himself to take sips of his coffee but always returned to give a light squeeze. Not only was praise his love language but so was physical touch. It was such a comfortable position, he could drive like this for hours, you by his side, his hand settled in your lap, warming from the skin-to-skin contact. 

It was a very loving action, but at times, it was torturous teasing. You hoped he’d just pull over for a spontaneous fuck, moving to the back and watching cars drive past while the truck rocked back and forth, and the windows steam from your hot, heavy breaths.

“You know, sweetheart, we still gotta few hours to go and I can handle the rest of the way, you should try to get some sleep,” Joel suggested in that thoughtful, caring manner of his, unable to feel the heat between your legs, the reason you’d been so restless, but you weren't about to mention that. 

“I know, but I'm wide awake, I doubt I‘ll be able to fall asleep right now.” You responded with a slight shrug of your shoulders.

He nodded and looked forward, back towards the road. He slowly dragged his fingertips up, moving closer and closer to your desperate cunt. Your hips hoist themselves up slightly, needing him in these moments. 

Joel chuckled before applying another light squeeze to your luscious thigh, listening to you sigh softly, legs clasping together before he finally spoke up, “You’re so tense, sweetheart... Are you sure you don't need some- relief?”

“W-well, what do you mean?” You stammered, trying to make it seem as if you weren't currently sitting in a pool of arousal, but that longing gaze told it all. Your body burns in a feverish warmth, embarrassed to admit that simple action was the cause of this puddle beneath you. 

You’d been with Joel long enough for him to know all of your fixations. One he took to his advantage was his hands. He’d seen you looking into your lap, silently inspecting every detail, the lengthy fingers of his hand which were a warm skin tone, a callous look to them after years of hard work, picturing the numerous times they’ve been inside you, so deep that you can feel them grazing along your cervix. You shifted continuously in a desperate manner that caught his attention, and it was relatively easy to recognize what was happening. 

“Don't think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been starin’ or the way them thighs been clenchin’ like there's no tomorrow.” Joel said, making your pussy flutter against the soft material of your panties, “I can pull over and help you unless you want me to keep on driving?” 

“I-I don’t think I can wait any longer… Please, just touch me.” You whimpered in a pathetic plea that made him take action and order. 

“need’ya to spread those beautiful legs for me, darlin’.”   

You did exactly as told, like the good girl you were, and allowed him as much access as possible while he drew your silky pajama bottoms to the side along with those cute, lacy panties of yours to unveil your aching cunt. 

“There she is...” Joel purred, resting his wrist upon your pubic bone while he took a moment to trail the tips of his fingers across your slit before parting his pointer and ring finger in a v shape, opening those puffy, wrinkled lips wide open to fully expose your arousal-soaked self before running his middle digit up and down. He proceeds to trace a few light circles on your clitoris before extending to your entrance which had been drooling. 

You inhaled sharply, ogling the sight of his hand traveling between your thighs, veins protruding in his hand, up to his forearm, just below the rolled-up sleeve of his button-up shirt. 

“Poor girl been achin’ for my touch, hasn’t she?” Joel said, pressing himself to your hole, watching you nod with those yearnful eyes and a needy, little pout, “Don't worry, darlin’, I’ll take good care of this pussy. All you gotta do is lay back and relax that pretty self for me...” 

He pushed his index and middle halfway inside, your inner walls swallowing him into complete warmth that made his cock strain in his jeans, imagining what your pussy would feel like, wrapped around him. 

Joel keeps his eyes on the road ahead, keeping steady control of the vehicle as his digits start moving in and out at a slow yet rhythmic pace, stroking your walls and massaging into the spongy tissue of your G-spot.  

“Jesus, this perfect fucking pussy, so wet and tight, it’s made to be fucked by an older man like me. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes- oh god, it feels so fucking good.” You gasped softly, melting into the passenger's seat, head tossing back and thighs spreading further apart. 

“I know, sugar,” He purred in his sweet southern draw, burying himself till he was knuckles deep inside your sweet pussy with a thick layer of arousal coating his fingers. He gradually increases his pressure and speed, causing the tension of lust to knot in your stomach.

A pornographic sound leaves your pretty little lips, making him smirk proudly and curl his fingers faster from your reaction. 

You stretched the seat belt from your torso, raising your shirt past your breasts to openly fondle yourself. It was such a scandalous image for Joel to witness, and luckily for you, at this hour of the night, no other vehicles were in sight. But with all this pleasure consuming your mind, getting noticed was the least of your concerns.

He let out a low grunt, grip tightening around the steering wheel when he catches a glimpse of the bud of your erect nipple poking between your digits while you continue massaging at the soft flesh. You moan softly, thrusting forward only pushing him deeper inside your cunt. 

“That's it, darlin’, keep rollin’ those hips. ” 

The muscles in his forearm contract, forcing a third digit inside your pussy, pressing against your g-spot at a rapid pace with the palm of his hand pressed into your neglected clit, throbbing against the pressure. 

You moaned softly, mind concentrating on the euphoric state that was pulling you even closer to the edge. 

“Come on, sweetheart, let me feel you make a mess all over my fingers.” Joel increased his speed, feeling how close you were while he watched you fall apart right then and there.

Orgasmic shockwaves grip your entire body, making your inner walls contract and squeeze around him as you release all the built-up tension. Moaning out of complete pleasure with the older man’s name written across your lips, drowning out the sound of music playing on the radio with your filthy, disgraceful noises. 

A glazed-over look filled your eyes after you came, along with a sleepy-filled high, feeling the way he carefully dragged his fingers out and raised them to his mouth, casually wiping away your wetness with his wide tongue.

“Jesus…” You mutter at the lascivious sight as he smirks mischievously. 

Proceeding to lower your shirt, you feel his hand return to your thigh, which makes a warmness flutter through you as you scooch closer and happily lace your hands around his arm. 

“Feelin’ better, honey?” Joel asked, stroking his thumb back and forth against your supple skin.

“Mhm, just the remedy I needed.” A smile spreads across your face as your eyes stay in his direction. 

The pleasant sound of music and the soft scent of cum filled the truck. Something about this intimacy, sitting in silence with the radio on low and basking in the moment with your lover, was so incredibly soothing. 

Sometimes, you wonder how you ended up with such a loving partner to call yours. It's a special feeling to have him in your life. But for now, you’ll have to wait to show your appreciation through a nice fuck, and his favorite home-cooked meal once you’re back home.

His dark brown eyes glance over, watching yours become increasingly heavy till they’re finally fluttered shut, and after a few seconds of silence, you hear his voice say ever so softly, “Get some rest, hun, I’ll wake you when we’re close to home.” 

“Mmm, thank you.” You mumbled sleepily, loosening your grip above his wrist to eventually slide down to lay your hand on his, falling asleep soon after with his soothing touch still in yours.

It was barely light outside when he pulled up to the house, shutting off the truck and looking at his sweet angel, who’d been sound asleep for the last few hours. 

Instead of waking you, which he had no intention of doing, he quietly carried you inside, up the stairs to the bedroom, where he laid you on the mattress, feeling you stir slightly in your sleep before pulling up the covers and placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, leaving you to get the rest you need.

Joel Miller Smut Taglist: @cutesyscreenname @milly-louise

Taglist Form | Message if you want to be removed <3

[arlemangel7]

Gambit x blackfem!Mutantreader x rogue

First meet: Love in the club

When he met you he had three thought southern loud and sexy. You were a bartender that knew her way around the bar and how to entertain large crowds from the door all he could hear was loud woos and "come down on the left", "what can I getcha boys?", "alright alright two beers and six shots haha, guess we have a big night tonight huh 😁". He was alittle star struck almost to the point of drooling and had it not been for rogue nudging him out of his trants he'd still be standing at door mouth agap watching you twirl and dazzle the room as you shake cocktails all from behind the bar.

Rogue thought you were a raging fire but knew what she wanted soon as she seen you. She sauntered up to the bar through the sea of men sat right now in the center and said "hey sugar how's about me and you take a shot of your choice when you get a minute,hm?". You standing in her perfect line of sight say "well I hope you can shoot something sweeter than you accent darlin?" Without missing a beat she replies with "tell ya what, I'll take as many shots as it takes to get you to come home with me?" You, muddling limes into the bottom of the tin say "well, lucky for you I don't have any plans tonight and I get off in an hour. Soooooo if you can down ten shots of my choosing without throwing up or keeling over I'll take you...and your friend there up on your offer. And?" You place the muddler down grab a bottle and turns around to face her with the bottle still out of view "I'll tell you the name of your poison just cause im so nice." She place the bottle on the counter between yall "100 proof jack, so, do ya really wanna take me home?"

Five minutes later

Yall are down to the last shots of whiskey. Rogue takes her ninth shot and then you follow both your tummies are churning proof that both of you have CLEARLY over estimated the integrity of your stomachs, gambit is in the middle of yall already guessing the outcome if this battle is finished as intended "Listen ladies, I'd suggest we fold this round." both you and rogue say in unison "hush it Cajun!" Realizing yall both made a jinx burst into laughter before you say "you sure you wanna finish this?" She doesn't say anything accept "to our night together." She raises her shot glass up awaiting for you to do the same you chuckle raising your shot glass and doing your best to maintain eye contact through fuzzy vision "night ha *hiccup* try life" *clink* yall slam the glasses on counter and down them hearing the crowd roar in drunken cheers was the last thing you heard before blacking out.

The next morning.

You wake up to bright Sunrays shining through the window next to your bed..... only you don't have a window next your bed. It takes a few seconds to feel an arm squeeze around your tummy and a "mmm" in a slightly familiar voice. You softly and slowly turn to get a glimpse of your bed mates face when you realize you are naked, this makes you spring to a Sitting position trying desperately to remember what happened. "Well good morning cher, helluva night you had huh?" Surprised by the southern male voice coming from the fuzzy figure coming from the doorway. Squinting to get a better view of this person he says "your specks are on the night stand on ya right" you smile silently in thanks and retrieve your second eyes. After a few seconds your pink irises start to focus and you see the man from the bar "names remi but you may know me as 'cajun' I believed you called me last night" you nod "y/n". "Awh, a beautiful name for a beautiful lady. Your bedmate is.." "rogue?" You cut him off, you remember her saying that was her name on the way out of the bar.

"The very same, may I?" He gesters to the spot on the end of the bed trying to be careful with his movement not to frighten you you nod and he sits down before you ask "we didn't do..???" "No cher nothing like that, you two kissed alittle on the couch got naked because it was two hot in here wondered through the house to this very bedroom and watched TV until you both passed out on top of the covers. From there all I did was place a blanket atop both of you, remove your glasses shut the door and went to go sleep on the couch." Seeing the slight skepticism written on your face he says " listen i understand how it sounds but scouts honor im not made that way and There are security cameras in the living room and the hall if you wanna check for ya self."

For your own sanity you decide to take him up on his offer and Lou and behold he is telling the truth you both stumbled in the house threw your keys on the table near the door splayed on the couch where rogue atop of you where a make out session followed as yall are preoccupied with each other remi is seen in the back chuckles shaking his head taking his coat off, locking the door and going down the hall to the room where we ended up. Going back to the living room camera yall break from. The kiss turn on the TV say something in audible to each other and proceed to ditch clothes left right and center until nothing but skin remains yall cuddle on the couch for a sec before saying another sentence to rogue and her reply makes you rise from your position of your head on her belly to walk/stumble through the hall opening doors left and right until you found the bathroom following your departure rogue meets you in the hallway and guides you to the bed room as you both enter remi leaves shutting the door behind him and going to lay down on the couch.

"See a perfect gentlemen." He says in a matter of fact tone "alright I, ahhhh" you say feeling a sharp pang ring through your head "so you want Tylenol, ibuprofen or advil?, and what would you like for breakfast I got waffles eggs and sausage." (Insert medicine and breakfast of choice here) "That'd be great, thank you" he gives you one of his shirts to put on before breakfast is ready and points you to the hall closet with all the spare rag,towels, toothbrushes and etc are he tells you food will be ready in a second and to take all the time you need. Between that time rogue wakes up and is in the dining room where the food and remi are.

After this your relationship would start off and the rest would be history.

As always stories mine characters belong to who they belong to

Let me know your thoughts and ideas

Signing off for now sleep well yall💋💋

[prince-liest]

Thoughts on the headcanon that Alastor is afraid of dogs?

As far as the info I've gathered goes, a popular hd is that Alastor died in the woods after either being shot by a hunter with dogs that though he was a deer, or, the most violent version, that the hunter had his dogs go after the "deer" and they chased after him and murder him, eating the meat of his bones even, on some occasions (although I don't see the practicality of that. Why train your hunting dogs to eat all the pray you're supposed to be hunting for yourself?)

In any case, bc he died due to a hunter thinking he was a deer, Alastor became a deer demon in hell, and because were present/a big factor/the cause of his death has developed a deep rooted phobia of dogs

Oh, I fucking love that headcanon! I just wrote it in as part of how Alastor died in my most recent chapter of Once Bitten, Back For More, and it's actually also going to come up in the last installment of 666 as well, haha. I just think that Alastor deserves some dog-related PTSD, as a treat. (For me.)

Most hunting dogs really aren't used for "chase down and maul" type purposes (my maternal grandfather's hunting dog was a cocker spaniel named Astra and she just retrieved the birds he shot, for example) but I get the impression that someone who shot a man dead-center in the forehead in the middle of the woods under the guise of "hunting" probably maybe had some non-standard reasons for shooting at someone in the woods. I don't think he encountered another serial killer or anything, but for canon purposes, I imagine that it's not out of the realm of imagination that a white Southern hunting man from the 1920s that happens to have some dogs with him might get some (fucking horrible) ideas if he found Alastor alone in the woods, with a low bar for justifying suspicion. Especially if he initially mistook Alastor for a deer and already shot at him, and now needs a reason to validate himself.

It's a horrible and hateful way to die for sure. I really don't think that Alastor went peacefully, all-considered.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Footage from the Zionist bombing of a residential neighborhood in central Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip on Tuesday, opening Ramadan with the mass slaughter of civilians.]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DEATH AND DESTRUCTION EVERYWHERE ON THE 157TH DAY OF ISRAEL'S ONGOING GENOCIDE IN THE GAZA STRIP

Opening the first day of Ramadan, on the 157th day of Israel's ongoing war of genocide against the Palestinian population of the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 7 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of 67 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, and wounding another 106 others over the previous 24-hours.

In what has become a daily atrocity, Israeli occupation soldiers opened fire on hungry civilians waiting for food aid at the Al-Kuwaiti roundabout in Gaza City, shooting starving people in the street and resulting in the deaths of no less than 9 civilians, while wounding another 20 others.

In the north of Gaza, Zionist atrocities continued when occupation warplanes bombed a civilian home belonging to the Al-Saqqa family in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood of Gaza City, killing at least seven civilians, including five children, and wounding another six others.

Similarly, Zionist fighter jets bombarded the Abu Shamala family home, also in the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, slaughtering 16 civilians, including the wife of journalist Mufid Abu Shamala, along with all his children.

Occupation artillery fire also concentrated on several areas across the northern Gaza Strip, including the Al-Sabra, Tal al-Hawa, and Sheikh Ajlin neighborhoods of Gaza City, murdering three Palestinians who were transported to Al-Shifa Medical Complex.

Meanwhile, in central Gaza, intense bombardment and artillery shelling targeted several areas, including various refugee camps while targeting civilian residences and town squares.

Zionist forces also detonated another residential town square in the Al-Maghazi Refugee Camp after forcefully evacuating local residents, while Israeli artillery forces shelled several other targets across central Gaza, including the Al-Nuseirat Refugee Camp, Al-Bureij, Deir al-Balah and Al-Maghazi.

At the same time, IOF warplanes bombed the Abu Sinjar family home in Deir al-Balah, resulting in the martyrdom of eight civilians, while several others remain missing under the rubble, according to local medical sources.

In another atrocity, Israeli occupation aircraft bombed a civilian home in the village of Bani Suhaila, east of Khan Yunis, in the southern Gaza Strip, with a simultaneous bombing in the city center, killing and wounding a number of Palestinians.

In a similar crime, north of Khan Yunis, in south-central Gaza, occupation warplanes flattened an entire residential square in the center of the town of Al-Qarara with an intense bombardment, resulting in the martyrdom of no less than 11 civilians.

In two separate Zionist airstrikes, occupation warplanes targeted local residents in the town of Al-Qarara, killing at least five civilians, some of whom were taken to Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, while others were taken to the European Gaza Hospital.

IOF artillery shelling also targeted the Abasan Al-Kabira neighborhood of Khan Yunis, as well as the Khuza'a neighborhood, east of Khan Yunis.

The slaughter continued with the Zionist bombing of a civilian residence in the El Geneina neighborhood in the city of Rafah, in addition to bombings targeting the vicinity of local shelters and civilian tents belonging to displaced families.

Occupation aircraft also bombed a civilian residence belonging to the Saleh family in the Al-Saudi neighborhood of Rafah city, wounding three Palestinians, while a second bombing targeting the Abu Taha family home luckily resulted in no reported injuries.

As a result of Israel's ongoing war of genocide in the Gaza Strip, the infinitely rising death toll now exceeds 31'112 Palestinian civilians killed, more than 25'000 of which, or over 70%, were among women and children according the United States Pentagon, while another 72'760 others have been wounded in Zionist strikes since Israel's aggression in Gaza began on October 7th, 2023.

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#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[clvr-the-insect-enthusiast]

Clover's Pokédex: #004, #005 and #006: Cyndaquil, Quilava and Typhlosion

Bonus Entry: The Infernal Parade

By Clover of the Survey Corps

Here's the link to the master post!

CYNDAQUIL

Category: The Fire Mouse Pokémon Average Height/Weight: 50cm, 7.9kg Conservation Status: Cyndaquil is surprisingly thriving in certain secluded areas in Johto. Type: Fire Evolution: Cyndaquil may evolve into Quilava through aging or training.

Cyndaquil is quite timid, but will not hesitate to light the flammable spots on its back as a last resort. These flames burn hottest when the Pokémon is angry, and have been used for generations in cooking in the absence of another heat source. When tired, Cyndaquil will flee or curl up into a ball rather than strike back, as its flames would otherwise not burn completely.

QUILAVA

Category: The Volcano Pokémon Average Height/Weight: 90cm, 19kg Conservation Status: Quilava is rare in the wild, but can occasionally be seen roaming grasslands. Type: Fire Evolution: Quilava evolves from Cyndaquil through aging or training, it also evolves into Typhlosion through the same methods.

Quilava is completely immune to any form of damaged caused by fire. Its fur and skin have ridiculously high burning temperatures, estimated to be around 900°C. I doesn't ususally attack with the flames on its head and rear, using them more for intimidation and attracting mates. Unless their mouth is somehow obstructed, it will always prefer to burn opponents by biting them and igniting its own teeth.

TYPHLOSION

Hisuian Form

Category: The Ghost Flame Pokémon Average Height/Weight: 1.60m, 69.8kg Conservation Status: Hisuian Typhlosion went extinct in the wild shortly before the foundation of Jubilife, as the last pack of Typhlosion living near the border with Johto migrated to escape predators. Type: Fire/Ghost Evolution: Typhlosion evolves from Quilava through aging or training.

In Hisui, Typhlosion seems to have a link to the fallen. It eats the souls of the lost, in order to purify and release them into the afterlife. There are rumors that the power of a Hisuian Typhlosion is the only thing capable of purifying a Spiritomb's 108 souls.

BONUS: THE INFERNAL PARADE

1- The Parade begins

Occasionally, in the Crimson Mirelands, an odd phenomenon occurs during full moon nights, which I have dubbed the Infernal Parade. A pack of Quilava migrates from the southern lands and gathers up in the ruins near Brava Arena, where they spontaneously evolve into Hisuian Typhlosion as soon as the moon rises.

2- The dance and the Spirit Feast

Upon evolving, they sing and dance, summoning strange fiery wisps that follow them around. This strange parade tends to last about an hour, before the Pokémon sit in a circle and absorb those wisps thrhough eating or the openings on their necks while meditating. This strange feast tends to last until exactly midnight.

3- Fireworks in the night sky

As the feast ends, the pack stands up in unison and unleashes a massive burst of purple fire into the center of the circle. The resulting fireball shoots up in the sky and silently explodes, scattering strange light particles through the air, which can be seen all the way from the Icelands. After that, the Pokémon leave, probably on their way back to Johto.

4- My conclusions and theories

The Infernal Parade is a truly beautiful event, and possibly the inspiration for modern fireworks, but there is more to it than just bright lights and eating flames. Here are some notes I took while watching a recent Infernal Parade:

The Typhlosion allow other Pokémon to participate, but few accept their invitations. I'm still unsure if they're as welcoming to all humans as well, or if they let me join them just because I was accompanied by my own Quilava, which I brought in an attempt to evolve.

The strange wisps are most probably the souls of other Pokémon, as they have a similar shape to the wisps released as a byproduct of Typhlosion purifying forsaken spirits, and the large explosion in the end must be the result of releasing multiple souls into the afterlife at once.

My theory is that the Infernal Parade is a way for Typhlosion to keep the balance between the realms of the living and the dead, making sure the lost souls scattered across Hisui find the way to a peaceful afterlife. The singing and dancing is a way to call for the spirits, and the meditation is there so each Typhlosion can concentrate enough energy to purify multiple souls at once.

[thecourtscorkboard]

Turnabout Goodbyes (1-4)

Phoenix Wright is called to defend a rival—and a close friend—in the first finale of the series, Turnabout Goodbyes.

I have to give an apology for how long this took; I lost a lot of motivation, then lost my password twice. But we're back! We're so back. Thank you for your patience!

The original final case of PW:AA, Turnabout Goodbyes (1-4) is the penultimate case of the game and instantly hooks with its art and intro. Miles Edgeworth is arrested for a murder he did not commit: and it's up to Phoenix Wright to defend him.

THE CORE CAST:

Phoenix Wright: Phoenix Wright has become a legal icon for his ability to save the most impossible cases. When this one arrives on his doorstep, however, it may just make or break his career.

Maya Fey: Maya returns as Phoenix's partner: her inquisitive energy is on full force for this case, and she serves a vital role!

Manfred von Karma: A new prosecutor that has taken over this case specifically to prosecute the defendant. Ruthless, cold, and undefeated in his 40 years of prosecution.

Miles Edgeworth: Not the prosecution, but instead the defendant! Miles Edgeworth has been arrested for this murder, and he's obviously not taking it very well.

Dick Gumshoe: Even though he's the detective for this case, Dick Gumshoe firmly believes in his boss's innocence and is determined to help Phoenix in any way he can!

THE MAIN CAST:

Lotta Hart: A true-blooded Southerner with a heart of gold and an afro that Richard Pryor would be proud of.

Uncle: An unnamed boat shop caretaker who has lived on Lake Gourd for an indeterminate amount of time. Potentially senile despite his relatively young age, all things considered.

Polly: A pet parrot owned by the boat shop caretaker. Loves to say her own name!

THE SECONDARY CAST:

Larry Butz: When something smells, it's usually returning for a cameo! Larry appears in this case for his winter job and to do his part in getting Edgeworth free.

Yanni Yogi: A mysterious court bailiff who was arrested and acquitted for the DL-6 incident some 15 years ago.

Gregory Edgeworth: Miles Edgeworth's father and the victim of a murder that happened 15 years ago called the "DL-6 Incident".

A BRIEF RECAP

Two men are standing on a boat in the middle of the lake. They're discussing something that happened 15 years ago: one of them says that they've suffered, and that an opportunity as presented itself. An opportunity to take revenge! He raises a pistol and shoots a shot: the other man falls into the water, and Miles Edgeworth watches him sink into the depths.

Wait.

Miles Edgeworth?!

Merry Christmas.

Investigation, Day One

Phoenix and Maya are (presumably) celebrating Christmas at the office! Maya asks if Phoenix knows any waterfalls nearby to train her spiritual powers, and Phoenix suggests both the office shower and the fire department—the water pressure in the shower is too low for Maya and the firefighters got mad at her, unfortunately. Watching the news, he's bored about tabloid reports of a cryptid in Gourd Lake but is surprised at news of a murder: and flabbergasted when it turns out that Miles Edgeworth was arrested for it! Going to the Detention Center to see Edgeworth, he enters the room and then immediately turns around, trying to walk away but coming back when Phoenix calls out for him. Edgeworth, pissed off, asks if they've come to laugh at him. Edgeworth says that he didn't want Phoenix to see him like this: Edgeworth doesn't want to talk about the murder, and Edgeworth calls the idea of Phoenix defending him 'ridiculous'. He says that Phoenix needs real skill, and Phoenix changes the subject. Why did Edgeworth go to Gourd Lake if it's so far away from his place of work? Edgeworth stays silent, continuing to stonewall us. When Maya is about to ask if he really did it, though, he quickly explains that he went to see Gourdy: the cryptid that was on the news earlier in the day. Phoenix presents his badge to Edgeworth in an attempt to get him to let him defend him (wow, that's a lot of 'him's!) Edgeworth doesn't trust Phoenix, calling his case hopeless. Every defense attorney has turned him down. Ever single one. They were afraid of a loss: it could be Edgeworth's fault that they didn't represent him. After all, he is the Demon Prosecutor.

Phoenix and Maya go to investigate the crime anyways. Gumshoe is at the entrance to Gourd Lake, ordering the police on scene around in a rather unusual way. He's calling people idiots, telling them to double-time it, stuff like that: he's not in a good mood, either! Gumshoe is absolutely certain that Edgeworth didn't do it—he's open to help Phoenix in any way that he can. That's good! Gumshoe is disheartened to hear that Edgeworth didn't ask for their representation, and when Phoenix asks him what happens he calls him "Mr. Head-in-the-fluffy-pink-clouds Lawyer", which is really funny. Gumshoe explains what happens: it happened very early in the morning, just after midnight. Two men were on a boat, and one of them shot the other person with a pistol. He was arrested on the scene, and there's even a witness that can testify as to what happened. Great. Just great. We've really got our work set out for us, huh?

At least we've got someone on our side...

It's hard not to feel bad for Gumshoe. It's true that most of the police force thinks Edgeworth did it, it's true that nobody is defending Edgeworth, and it's true that the case against him is very strong. It sounds like Edgeworth is mad at Phoenix for some reason: Gumshoe says that he's just been muttering "Wright, Wright, Wright..." after the 1-3 trial. Gumshoe can't tell us anything about the witness—the only witness—but he's trying to see if they can find another. Gumshoe is taken away for a briefing, but not before Maya asks him for an autopsy report. An autopsy hasn't performed yet, however: he tells Phoenix and Maya to drop by the precinct and gives them directions. He also gives them permission to investigate the park, which Phoenix and Maya immediately do. They discover some party poppers, which Maya takes. Walking around the lake, they discover a noise-based camera that Maya tries to get to work. She tries saying something into the microphone, then tries shouting, then tries screaming before Phoenix interrupts her. She kicks it, and Maya tries the party poppers. The camera takes multiple photos, and the camera's owner gets right furious about it: meet Lotta Hart, one of my favorite side characters in the trilogy! She's rather excited to learn that Phoenix is a lawyer, and she gives us a bit more information about the crime. She's a research student here photographing meteor showers, and she was on the lake on Christmas Eve—she must be the prosecution's witness! We ask about her camera: the device she has attached to the camera is a microphone, so it might've taken pictures of the murder! We're not gonna ask her for those just yet and instead take just a small look around Gourd Lake. There's a boathouse that rents out boats to be used. This must be where the boat came from.

Anyways: it's time to go to the precinct to see if we can talk to Gumshoe. He's still in his briefing, so I guess there's only one place to go: the detention center. Phoenix asks Edgeworth if he did it, and Edgeworth only tells him to think what he will. He just asks Phoenix to stay out of it. He doesn't want our help, and rather forcefully tells Phoenix and Maya to leave him alone. He goes back to his cell, and we go back to talk to Lotta. We ask if she might've taken a few pictures of the crime. She goes to check her film: it turns out that she's not the prosecution's designated witness, given that she says she might be a witness. Going back to the precinct, Gumshoe begs us to stay by Edgeworth. Edgeworth and Gumshoe trust each other deeply—Gumshoe got his hands on the autopsy report and gives it to us. The victim was shot once in the heart on the 24th or 25th: Maya seems to recognize the victim, but she can't place exactly where. Maybe when she was a kid. Going to check with Lotta, it turns out she did indeed take two pictures: and one of them is a picture of someone raising a gun!

Dun, dun, dun!

It's looking impossible for it to be anybody but Edgeworth! She runs to tell the police about the photos she took, and Phoenix is left to just wander around Gourd Lake. Sure enough, we meet Santa Claus himself! It's just Larry in a costume, though: he's working a job as a hot dog vendor to help provide for his girlfriend Kiyance. He gives us information about Gourdy: it turns out it's a Nessie-like monster inhabiting Gourd Lake, and he gives us the news article for more information. Talking with Larry about Edgeworth, it turns out that he, Phoenix, and Edgeworth were all classmates and friends in elementary school. Edgeworth was trying to be like his father—a famous... defense attorney? It turns out that Larry is unsure why Edgeworth turned to prosecution, but it seems Phoenix might have an idea. Going back to the Wright and Co. Law Offices, Maya is taking a hard look at the autopsy report: she recognizes the face! He was a lawyer that worked with Marvin Grossberg. Marvin Grossberg? Could he have something to do with the "DL-6 Incident" from 1-2 that Grossberg told Redd White about?

Going to Grossberg's office, they've come to show him the picture. The man's name is Robert Hammond, and it turns out he was the defense attorney for DL-6! The criminal was never caught; the man that Hammond defended was found innocent, and the police blamed the spirit medium who called upon the spirit of the victim—Misty Fey, Maya and Mia's mom. What does that case have to do with Edgeworth, though? Well, it has everything to do with Edgeworth, Grossberg says! After all: the victim in DL-6 was his father, Gregory!

Grossberg gives us a photograph of the woman from 1-2. It turns out that this is Misty Fey: he tells us to give it to Edgeworth. We do so, and Edgeworth says that he's impressed that we've figured out so much in just a few hours. He ultimately agrees for Phoenix to represent him, and answers everything to the best of his ability.

"The DL-6 Incident... was when my father died. Right in front of my eyes."

He gives us a bit more information about DL-6. He doesn't remember much of it, but he says that Gregory died right before his eyes: and that the statute of limitations runs out in three days, on December 28. If the statue of limitations runs out, then legally the case never happened: it can't be a coincidence that so many people related to DL-6 are showing up this year, can it? Redd White, Marvin Grossberg, Robert Hammond—even both Maya and Mia. Nobody knows where the suspect in DL-6 is, and Edgeworth is understandably silent about his father. He gives Phoenix a letter of request to give to Gumshoe, but right before they part ways an earthquake rocks the station! Edgeworth goes missing for a few seconds before Phoenix and Maya spot him. He's curling up on the floor in a ball, shivering. Poor guy... guess he has a phobia. Going to the police station, we give the letter to Gumshoe: he says that Lotta Hart is definitely showing up as a witness tomorrow and even has an enlarged photograph of the crime. Phoenix says that Edgeworth was never scared of earthquakes while they were in school. Hmm... in any case, day one of investigation draws to a close with many unanswered questions and few leads. But if Edgeworth's innocent, something had to have been overlooked!

Trial, Day Two

In the defendant's lobby, we learn the name of the prosecutor on this case: Manfred von Karma, the man who mentored Edgeworth! Edgeworth calls him a "God of Prosecution", telling us that he hasn't lost a single case in his 40 years as a prosecutor. He tells us that he'll do anything to do a guilty verdict. "Manfred von Karma is a man to be feared," he says, describing von Karma as vicious as Edgeworth multiplied by ten—no, times twenty. Phoenix asks if Maya could channel Mia for help, but Maya's having trouble: she's been slacking on her training, and she can't quite reach Mia. Trial begins, however, and we're forced to enter the courtroom.

The God of Prosecution.

Meet Manfred von Karma, the star of this case. He immediately takes control of the courtroom, scaring His Honor out of an opening statement and calling Gumshoe to the stand. Hopefully he's never dealt with Dick before (winky face). He demands testimony from Gumshoe instead of His Honor, saying that the Judge only has one role: to slam down his gavel and say the word "guilty"! Gumshoe testifies that "a man" called into the station a bit after midnight on Christmas Day. A body was found in the lake later in the morning, which is why Edgeworth was arrested. Phoenix grills Gumshoe for information. Von Karma confirms that there were two witnesses: asking about the body, Gumshoe mentions that a bullet was found in the man's body and that the murder weapon, a pistol with Edgeworth's fingerprints on it, was found on the boat. The bullet found in the man's body was fired from the same gun: the ballistic markings on the bullet, essentially a gun's fingerprints, matched the gun's rifling. His Honor says that a verdict could realistically be declared now: but he wants to hear from Lotta first. Von Karma orders a 10 minute recess, and we go to meet with Edgeworth in the Defendant's Lobby.

Phoenix asks him about the gun and why his fingerprints are on it. Edgeworth confirms that he was in the boat, but he maintains that he didn't shoot Hammond: and that he doesn't know who did. He heard a gunshot, and then saw Hammond fall from the boat. At the time, he says, he thought that Hammond killed himself. Maya also still can't get Mia, lamenting that she's feeling useless in this case. Poor girl...

Court is once again in session, and Lotta Hart is brought to the stand. She confirms that she's a research student and is ordered to testify about the night of the murder. After testifying about hearing two bangs and seeing two men in a boat, Von Karma presents her photo: it's definitely a picture of one man shooting another, the photo from yesterday! The courtroom erupts into pandemonium! The court nearly finds Edgeworth guilty, but Phoenix demands to cross-examine Lotta. Maya asks if Phoenix found a contradiction: there's a chance. Cross-examining Lotta, he can't find one! His Honor says that any more outbursts from Phoenix will land him in contempt of court. Phoenix can't find anything... but Maya shouts "hold it!" and demands that Lotta testifies more! She says that her testimony is vague and that it's unclear whether she saw Edgeworth!

THAT'S MY FUCKING GIRL!!!

Von Karma tries to get His Honor to put Phoenix in contempt, but Maya points out that it wasn't Phoenix who said anything: it was her! Maya is held in contempt, and Phoenix cross-examines Lotta again after Lotta says that she says she saw Edgeworth! This changes her testimony: he can keep cross-examining! For the first time in the trial, His Honor sides against von Karma: he does not sustain holding Phoenix in contempt, and Maya is held in his place. Lotta says again that she saw Edgeworth on the boat and Phoenix seizes this contradiction: from the earlier photo, it's impossible to make out who is who! If high-quality film can't capture their faces, how could Lotta?! Von Karma pleads, saying that that's not what he told Lotta to say; but it's too late, because she's said it! Lotta says that she saw Edgeworth, though. She used binoculars. Now why would she be using binoculars on the lake if she was looking for a meteor shower? One thing leads to another, and Lotta admits that she was looking for Gourdy. She wasn't really looking at the boat at all! She's not a research student: she's an investigative photographer looking for Gourdy. Phoenix proves that she was looking for Gourdy, but it changes nothing... until Phoenix remembers that she enlarged the photo! Phoenix makes her show the enlargement, which von Karma says does not exist; but Lotta shoots back, saying that he told her not to present it! The photo very clearly shows somebody firing a pistol. A pistol that is in their left hand... but the prints on the pistol were of Edgeworth's right!

Phoenix presents Edgeworth's theory that the victim shot himself. Von Karma, however, shoots this down: the distance from the gunshot proves that the victim was shot from at least a meter away. Nobody has meter-long arms, much less with enough room to circle back and shoot themselves in the chest! With reasonable doubt placed on Edgeworth's guilt and the question of who killed Robert Hammond still up in the air, His Honor asks both the defense and prosecution to investigate the matter further. Court is adjourned for the day.

In the Defendant's Lobby, Edgeworth and Phoenix meet to discuss the trial. Phoenix says that he's going to check on Maya, and Edgeworth tells him to tell her that he said to watch her mouth in court (that's a lot of telling!). Phoenix knows what he really means, though.

Aww, he does care.

With that, we move on to the second day of investigation. Things are getting juicier and juicier!

Investigation, Day Three

Curiously, this day does not start in the Wright and Co. Law Offices. It starts in the detention center, after Maya was arrested and held in contempt of court. She still can't call on Mia and she needs to get bail ready, so we go off to Gourd Lake: we talk with Gumshoe a bit, and he tells us that Edgeworth's fear of earthquakes goes back to DL-6. Gumshoe also tells us that he told the detention center to let Maya go as soon as they finished their report and not to worry about bail: Edgeworth paid for it! We tell Maya the good news and she joins us for our investigation: we meet Lotta at Gourd Lake, who says she wants information for the information she gave us. Specifically, she wants information about Gourdy! Going further into Gourd Lake, we meet with Larry. Something's different, though. There's a big ol' inflatable Steel Samurai balloon and a banner of flags!

From left to right: the United States, Germany, Canada, Brazil, Serbia and Montenegro, Bangladesh, a messed up version of India, South Korea, China, the United Kingdom, and Australia.

The balloon's inflater apparently broke. Larry doesn't have a lot else to say, so we go back to Lotta's camp: we don't have any proof, however, and she's turned down the sensitivity on her camera. After talking with Lotta about Gourdy some more, we go back to Larry and decide to talk about Gourdy. He denies it exists, saying that perhaps somebody saw something they mistook for a monster. Going to the Police Department, we meet Gumshoe: they're talking about a motive, and it's looking like von Karma's gonna go with Edgeworth getting revenge for his father. That certainly lines up with what we saw in the intro. Maya brings up that they're gonna be looking for Gourdy, and Gumshoe uncharacteristically snaps: he's understandably absolutely pissed that they're looking for a monster instead of helping Edgeworth. Phoenix tells Gumshoe about what's going on with Lotta, and he's more understanding: he's decided to help us out, giving us a choice between three tools—secret weapons for finding evidence! First up is the best character in the entire franchise! Second is Gumshoe's personal fishing pole, and third is a metal detector. Phoenix notes that none of these seem particularly useful, unlike Maya who thinks they all sound great. Phoenix ultimately decides to take one anyways, commandeering Missile from Gumshoe.

Going back to Larry, Missile immediately starts eating all of Larry's Samurai Dogs and ultimately is of little use. We try the fishing pole next, but we've got no bait: Phoenix jokes about using Missile, which understandably pisses off Maya, who hits him. I like to imagine she punched him in the stomach. She catches her own leg (ow!), falls on the ground, and wastes more of Lotta's film. I guess all that's left is the metal detector. We go to grab that, and going to the Boat Shop... it starts beeping! It looks like there's an air canister surrounded by a banner of flags. It looks like something Larry would own: but when we present it to him and ask him if it's his, he clams up! It's starting to make sense: he used the air tank to inflate the balloon because his compressor wasn't working. It got caught on the flags when it flew into the air! It turns out that he was out looking for it... on Christmas Eve. That's the night that Hammond was murdered!

How messed up would it be if he found the body? Flags, from right to left: Switzerland (at an incorrect ratio), the United States, Japan, potentially the Netherlands, and a Nordic nation I can't identify—given the width of the cross, probably Denmark.

Larry says he went home before midnight, so he didn't know what happened. He's no witness: but we've got a sneaking suspicion that we know what Gourdy was. It was the air balloon crashing into the water! Going back to Lotta, we tell her the truth. She's heartbroken: but in line with Southern chivalry she keeps her promise and gives us the info she has. Lotta tells us that the witness for tomorrow is the caretaker of the boat shop. She also has another photo to show us. The photo she shows is... just a picture of the lake, taken at 11:50 PM on Christmas Eve. What could've caused her camera to go off? Going into the shack, we meet the Caretaker! He's an old man, calling Maya and Phoenix Meg and Keith: is he really our witness? He seems a bit... confused, for lack of a better word, calling the boat rental a pasta shop. He calls out to his parrot, whose name is apparently Polly. He gives the Wet Noodle, his pasta shop, to "Keith"... before falling asleep. Again: this guy is our witness? He keeps going off-topic about the pasta shop. Phoenix knows that he know something about Hammond's murder. Talking about Polly, it turns out that she can say a few different things: she says her name is "Pol-ly!" and Maya immediately falls in love with her. The code for the safe is "1228", which Maya immediately remembers. Funnily enough, his kotatsu is a table with an electric blanket on it in the western releases. Looking a bit more around the shop, it turns out that all the fish on his wall are... saltwater. Huh. Now why would there be pictures of saltwater fish in a rental shop on a freshwater lake? Showing the old man our attorney's badge, we decide to finally break the charade. We're not really Keith and Meg!

Clearing things up with the old man, we finally get the opportunity to talk about the murder. He helps us out on one condition: we'll run the Wet Noodle once the case is all done. Apparently he knows all about the murder: after all, he saw it. Talking about it with Phoenix and Maya, he says he heard a bang and looked outside. There was another gunshot, and one of the men in a boat on the lake fell into the water. The boat came back to the shore, and a young man passed by the shop's window. He was saying something. The old man forgot, however. Great. He says he'll remember by tomorrow. Maya has one last thing to do: she asks Polly if they've forgotten anything.

What does this old man have to do with DL-6...?

DL-6 again! It seems like everybody in this case is involved with it to some degree: Maya's mom was the medium they used, Edgeworth's father was killed, Hammond was the defense attorney, and even this old man has some relationship to it. I wonder if that means von Karma was involved somehow?

Going back to talk about the caretaker with Gumshoe, he says that he's not sure about the witness. They don't even have any idea who he is. Phoenix asks about the DL-6 incident. It has something to do with the case, and Phoenix wants to know what it is. Gumshoe doesn't really know what it is, though, and Edgeworth forbade the police department from reading the file. Gumshoe says that if he can be convinced that DL-6 is related to the case, though, he might open the file up: we talk about Polly and how she knew about DL-6! Gumshoe opens up the evidence room for us. He doesn't want to open the file himself, apparently. Going inside, we get a good look at the case file.

On the day of the incident, December 28 of 2001—fifteen years ago in two days—a really bad earthquake struck Los Angeles: part of the district courthouse even collapsed, knocking out the power. No wonder Edgeworth is so scared of them. Three people got trapped in an elevator. It took five hours to rescue them, and when they were rescued... one of the people was found shot dead, and the other two were unconscious due to oxygen deprivation. The victim was Gregory Edgeworth, and one of the other passengers had to have been Miles. Gregory Edgeworth was 35 when he died, sharing a pretty striking resemblance when his son. He had lost the trial that day, and it looks like it couldn't have been suicide. The murder weapon was found in the elevator: it was fired twice, just like in the current murder! The suspect that was arrested was named Yanni Yogi. He was the third person in the elevator and a clerk for the court: and the person that Misty Fey must've helped arrest. He was arrested and tried, but acquitted thanks to the intervention of Robert Hammond—a plea of insanity meant that Yogi was set free, but his fiancée Polly Jenkins (Polly? Hmmm...) committed suicide. Yogi, for his part, was suffering from brain damage and apparently lost all memory of even being inside of the elevator. He disappeared after his acquittal, though. Phoenix and Maya take parts of the DL-6 Case File, and day two of investigation comes to a close!

Trial, Day Three

Trial opens up with von Karma declaring that the trial will only take three minutes. Calling the caretaker to the stand, he rather curiously doesn't make him state his name or profession, claiming that he's suffering from memory loss. Curioser and curioser! I think we've got a pretty decent idea of who this old man is, though.

In any case, the boatkeeper testifies that just after midnight, so in the wee hours of Christmas morning, he heard a set of gunshots from a boat on the lake; a man then walked by the boat shop's window. His Honor tries to start a cross-examination, von Karma objects: there are only 10 seconds left before 3 minutes are up and he's pressing for a verdict! Phoenix presses for a cross examination back, and von Karma flips. His three minutes are up, and it's time for cross-examination. Pressing every statement, the caretaker says that he could see the man's face. The caretaker, of course, says... it was that Edgeworth! Uh-oh. Uh-oh! Uh-oh! The trial is nearly over, but Phoenix raises an objection. The fingerprints! The shooter shot with his left hand, but the fingerprints were from Edgeworth's right! Von Karma claps back that Edgeworth could've wiped his prints and be holding it with the other hand. Phoenix objects back, saying that this is just hearsay from the witness. Von Karma shoots back, giving us an "evidence is everything" clapback, demanding proof that the witness is lying! There's no proof, though. There's nothing we can do. This court finds the defendant, Miles Edgeworth...

Sorry, Miles...

It's done. It's over. UNTIL LARRY FUCKING BUTZ POPS UP. The unsung hero of this fuckin' case! Larry says that there's no way this old man is telling the truth and demands to testify! Larry says that he was there on the night of the murder and says he remembers it differently! He's the only witness that von Karma couldn't have possibly fixed: our last chance! His Honor undoes his previous verdict and lets Larry testify. Von Karma is flabbergasted and we're given wind in our sails!

A brief recess is ordered. Edgeworth is understandably upset but tries to console us (poor guy). Larry being at the lake isn't a surprise, given that he was looking for the balloon that made Gourdy. Trial is reconvened and Larry is called to testify. Larry testifies that right as he turned the boat back in he heard a single gunshot... and didn't see a boat on the lake! He thought it could've been anything and went home. Only one gunshot? But the gun was fired thrice, and the other witnesses heard it fired twice! Larry says that he was listening to the radio with his headphones on, though: his testimony is now in doubt. After all, how can he say he heard something for real if he was listening to the radio? Phoenix says that he should keep testifying. Larry was listening to it very loud, but he's 100% sure he heard the gunshot and remembers what the DJ was saying: after a press, he says that she said it was almost Christmas.

You know where this is going.

We both know where this is going.

Say it with me, now...

"ALMOST CHRISTMAS" MEANS IT WASN'T CHRISTMAS!

What. A. Turnabout! When Larry heard the gunshot it was still the 24th; the other witnesses said they heard the gunshot after midnight, on Christmas Day! Von Karma tries to claim Larry is unreliable at best. We're absolutely sure that Larry heard it, though! After all, we've got proof! Remember that photo with nothing on the lake taken on Christmas Eve at 11:50? Lotta's microphone is activated by loud banging sounds, after all, and she was camped out right next to the boathouse! (And Evan gets it 100% right here: ku-fuckin'-dos for his deduction.)

That night, there were two sets of gunshots 25 minutes apart. Von Karma claims that Lotta's camera was only activated by loud noises: there's no proof it was a gunshot. We've got proof, though. After all, the pistol was fired thrice! The court is thrown into a tizzy, to say the least; we've got no clue exactly what happened, but we know that something did happen! It's at this exact moment that Phoenix realizes what happened. After all, Dee Vasquez had the same exact idea!

Phoenix lays out his theory after talking with Maya: the murder did not happen at 12:15 on Christmas. It happened at 11:50 on Christmas Eve! That's what the first gunshot was; that's why the camera went off! Who are the two men on the boat? Edgeworth and the murderer! The murderer killed Hammond and then assumed his identity, meeting Edgeworth on the boat! Edgeworth was called out to the lake by Robert Hammond. Unsure of what Hammond looked like, Edgeworth didn't think twice when he saw the real killer! Von Karma says Ludacris, we say that Jay-Z is better, and we know who it is. The court asks for the murderer's name. We can't give it, unfortunately. After all, he never told us! The murderer was the boat caretaker: Hammond was killed in the boat shop. After all, Larry heard the gunshot when he was right next to the boat shop!

We have a full theory, now. On the night of the murder, the old man called Robert Hammond and shot him in the boat shop. He then put on Robert Hammond's coat and called Edgeworth out to the boat shop and got on the boat, shooting a shot into the water to create a witness. He then shot another shot, missing a shot on purpose to create a witness before falling back into lake to create the illusion of murder. The court is dead silent. Edgeworth is called to the stand and he corroborates everything we've said. Have we done it?

Shieeeeeet.

The second trial ends on a cliffhanger; a strong theory, a missing witness, and one last day of investigation!

Investigation, Day Three

Meeting with Larry, we get to hear Phoenix's tragic backstory (number one): a class trial happened after he was accused of stealing Edgeworth's lunch money. Going to see Edgeworth in the detention center, we get a lot of emotion being thrown around between everybody. Edgeworth tells us whole story of DL-6, which we know already; and, since it's painfully obvious by now, I'm gonna start referring to the caretaker as Yanni Yogi. Edgeworth tells us that von Karma was his mentor. Von Karma is obsessed with perfection: no cases he's taken have been unsolved and not one suspect has been declared not guilty. There's a very high chance that some of von Karma's defendants were innocent. We leave Edgeworth and go back to Gourd Lake, meeting Gumshoe there. Gumshoe is very firmly on our side and he's got his entire squad looking for Yogi. He runs away to help find him, but he comes back with "just one more thing". Nobody's allowed into the woods. After all, somebody was camping there. Hmmmmmm. Wonder who that could be.

Anyway, we go to the boat shop and meet none other than... Marvin Grossberg?!

What are you doing here, Grossberg?

Grossberg tells us to go by his office if we think of anything and then leaves. Weird. Going inside of Yogi's shop, we see that Polly's still there: remembering that Polly remembers the safe code, we open it up. Or, more specifically, Maya opens it up in the search for money. The only thing in the safe is a letter. No name, no signature, but handwritten.

"Get your revenge on Miles Edgeworth."

Oh shit. Think we found our motive! The letter details the entire plan; goading Yogi into taking revenge against the 'two men who ruined his life', namely Robert Hammond and Miles Edgeworth. After all, it was DL-6 that made Yogi stand trial; DL-6 that made his fiancée commit suicide; DL-6 that led to him being the caretaker of a rackety boat shack and forced to pretend to have dementia. The entire plan is outlined in detail! It's exactly as we suspected. But who wrote the letter? Who's the real mastermind of this case? It's happening again; we answer one question and three more pop up!

We take the letter to the only (free) person who has first-hand knowledge of DL-6: Marvin Grossberg. After all, Robert Hammond worked for him. He's not in his office, though, so I guess we have to go to our secondhand source for DL-6. That's when Edgeworth drops a bombshell. He confirms that the caretaker is Yanni Yogi! But why would Yogi want to take revenge on Edgeworth? He's obviously having his own conflict. Remember that nightmare? The murder he committed?

Edgeworth outlines a dream that he's had nearly every night. It's a flashback to DL-6; they're in the elevator. Yogi and Gregory are fighting, and there's something on the floor at Edgeworth's feet. It's a pistol. He picks it up, throws it, and a gunshot goes off; then an ear-piercing scream; and then nothing.

(Get away from my father...!)

That's the sordid truth, I guess. Edgeworth accidentally shot his own father in the DL-6 incident. We have to leave Edgeworth, so we go back to meet Grossberg to talk about DL-6 a bit more. His own theory lines up with Edgeworth's memory: Edgeworth picked up the pistol, threw it, and it killed his father. Every way to Sunday, it's looking like Edgeworth committed it: Maya desperately doesn't want to believe it, but it's looking more and more like it. We talk to Grossberg about his father. Gregory Edgeworth was an incredible defense attorney, peerless except for Mia. He was a bitter foe of Manfred von Karma: whereas Edgeworth focused on sound evidence and the truth, Manfred is obsessed with his perfect win ratio and will even forge evidence and testimony to get his way. After going over Misty Fey's involvement in DL-6 again, we learn that Gregory must've had the same idea: to protect his son, he went against his own values and falsified his testimony! Giving the letter to Grossberg, he talks a bit more about Hammond.

Robert Hammond was a selfish bastard. He took high-profile cases to fuel his ego and his pocket, never trusting the people he represented. Yogi was declared innocent, but Hammond didn't respect him nor treat his case with respect: no wonder Yogi wanted revenge on him. Grossberg takes a second look at the letter... it's something about the handwriting.

Oh, shit.

OH, SHIT.

It's von Karma's handwriting?! Von Karma masterminded all of this?! But why? Why would von Karma want Miles Edgeworth and Robert Hammond dead?! Answer one question, and three more come out of nowhere! One thing is for certain, though: we know for a fact that von Karma knows that Edgeworth killed his own father! He's not just going for a guilty verdict for this case. He's going for a guilty verdict for DL-6! But how does he know about the truth behind DL-6? Is he really doing this all for a grudge? 15 years ago, von Karma went up against Gregory Edgeworth in court: von Karma won, but Gregory proved that von Karma was using faulty evidence. It was a penalty on von Karma's perfect record, and it was caused by Gregory Edgeworth! After that, von Karma took the first and only vacation he ever took.

There are things that are adding up and things that aren't! If it was 15 years ago... and the penalty affected him so badly... was von Karma involved in DL-6? That's a distinct possibility, but it's impossible to say what his involvement was! We go back to the police station's Evidence Room to look around in the DL-6 files some more. They're all gone, though! Who took them? Someone had to have-

Oh.

Hi, Manfred. He doesn't seem to recognize us, though. That's... good? Von Karma explains that he doesn't remember defense attorneys very well; he doesn't even really see them as people. Talking to von Karma, we try to talk a bit about Edgeworth. He doesn't say why he took Edgeworth under his wing, though, but we can see that he still has an axe to grind with Gregory even though he's 15 years dead. Von Karma ominously declares that Edgeworth will "declare his guilt": and we both know that he's talking about DL-6. At long last, we get to ask what's been eating at us: von Karma did write the letter. The man in the boathouse is Yanni Yogi. And that is a stun gun.

Wait.

A stun gun?

"600,000 volts will course through your body like a dog touching an electric fence."

Von Karma assaults us in the evidence room, shocking both Maya and Phoenix and running off with the letter! Maya gets an incredibly emotional monologue that makes me tear up every time I play this case, lamenting how she feels useless in the shadow of her sister. She's not useless, though; we know this first-hand. After all, she called out Lotta! She took the fall for us! She helped so much in 1-3; and now she has a bullet from DL-6 in her hand!

The final day of investigation comes to a close. We know who our killer is, we know who our mastermind is: but that's just for one case. DL-6 is still a closed book...

Trial, Day Four

Trial opens up with Maya discharging static electricity like a Pikachu. She shocks Phoenix, Edgeworth, and Gumshoe before going outside to discharge all of the electricity she's built up from von Karma's stun gun. Trial begins shortly thereafter, and we already have a basic strategy: point out that Yogi is lying.

Yogi is brought to the stand. Von Karma strangely wants us to cross-examine him: there must be some kind of trick at play. He argues that Yogi didn't run away at all, with Yogi testifying that he was just buying food for his parrot. After all, he's got nothing to do with the incident. He doesn't even have a motive. We go for a full broadside, already accusing Yogi of lying about not knowing his identity. Overplaying our hand? Perhaps. But it's all we can do! The court notices how fervently we're pressing the idea that he has a grudge and that's he lying about his memory; we're quick to formally accuse him of perjury! Both the Judge and von Karma are challenging our claim, and we finally bring it to light. We name him as Yanni Yogi! After all, if he's Yanni Yogi, then he has a motive!

Phoenix is backed into a corner, but it's a corner he backed himself into; he has a plan. He asks to examine Yanni Yogi's fingerprints, but von Karma shoots this hypothesis down very quickly. Yogi apparently has no fingerprints! He apparently burned them off when working at a chemical plant. Shit! Backing ourselves into a corner has backfired immensely; we can't prove anything even though we know everything! Von Karma playfully proposes that we cross-examine his parrot.

We are.

So we do it! We ask that the witness's parrot be brought in to testify! The crowd goes ballistic, His Honor is in disbelief, and von Karma is outraged, but Phoenix stands strong. After all, von Karma brought the idea up! He's just accepting von Karma's proposal! Von Karma relents on one condition: if the parrot gives no information, then Edgeworth will be found guilty. After all. This is our last chance! There's no way von Karma could've tampered with the parrot!

His Honor tries to get the parrot to testify, but Polly doesn't talk outside of just saying "hello". We press Polly, and we get Maya to talk to her. We ask the parrot what her name is and what the number to the safe is; "Pol-ly!" and "1228". Bringing out the DL-6 file, we point out that Yogi's fiancée was named Polly and that the crime happened on 12/28. We try to see if she'll tell us about DL-6, but it turns out that von Karma retrained that: implicitly through some pretty cruel methods. His Honor falls under the school of "once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern", it seems: he agrees with us! He calls Yogi back to the stand. We've convinced the court that he's really Yanni Yogi!

It's finally the end of a long road. Yogi finally breaks the charade: he's straightened his back, cleared his eyes. Yanni Yogi is back; and he tells the truth. He shot and killed Robert Hammond. He donned Hammond's jacket. He tried to frame Miles Edgeworth. Hammond made Yogi believe that it would get him off the hook; he pretended to have brain damage this entire time. He maintains his innocence, but laments that he lost everything; his job, his credibility, and most dear to his heart, Polly. He tells the court about the letter and the pistol. We can't prove it was von Karma, and Yogi doesn't particularly care, but that doesn't matter: he got his revenge on Edgeworth and Hammond.

Miles Edgeworth has been declared not guilty of the murder of Robert Hammond! We did it. We did it! We beat Manfred von Karma! The first lawyer in 40 years to beat von Karma!

At long last, it's finally over-

SON OF A BITCH!

A Trial Fifteen Years in the Making

Edgeworth confesses to the crime; not the murder of Robert Hammond, but the murder of Gregory Edgeworth! This was von Karma's plan all along; to get Edgeworth to confess to DL-6! Even if he won the Hammond case, he'd still want to win the Edgeworth case; by getting Edgeworth declared guilty!

Oh man, oh man! When we try to object, von Karma brings up Larry! After all, he interrupted court proceedings after a verdict was declared! With nowhere else to turn, the second trial of Miles Edgeworth begins: this time for the murder of his own father! Court is adjourned for the prosecution and the defense to get ready.

Wait. Defense? That's right, baby! We're taking on the defense of Miles Edgeworth!

Get yourself a friend like Phoenix!

When court reconvenes, Edgeworth is called to testify. He testifies about the incident. He went to court with his father, when an earthquake struck the courtroom and trapped the Edgeworths alongside Yogi in the elevator. Edgeworth picked up something heavy that fell at his feet and threw it: a gunshot rang out and then a terrible scream came out of nowhere. Well, there's our first contradiction. The murder weapon was fired twice: so why did Edgeworth only hear one gunshot? There's a simple explanation, really. The first shot didn't kill Gregory Edgeworth! Someone else fired the second shot that killed him! The issue, von Karma points out, is that there's no proof when the gun was fired for a second time; or a first, for that matter. But there's an issue: a bullet hole in the elevator door. This proves the weapon was fired twice at the time of the incident and somebody else fired the second shot! It's impossible for it to be anybody else but the murderer!

Von Karma objects. No clues were found on the scene: he continues to deny that there were two shots fired since a second bullet was never found. A second bullet doesn't exist! But...

But it must exist!

Fun fact: Mom- er, that is, the Chief, only appears for a single frame.

Did Maya channel Mia? No? Wait, is she helping us directly? In any case, we object! It's a flimsy one, but it's an objection. What if, as Mia suggested, the murderer took the second bullet? What if the killer had to take the bullet? No; what if the bullet didn't need to find it?

Mia reminds us that we're not supposed to prove that the murderer took the bullet for a reason; we're supposed to prove that the murderer had to take the bullet no matter what! What if the bullet hit the murderer? What if that's the scream Edgeworth heard?!

Wait a minute. That almost makes sense! No, that does make sense! Nobody else in the elevator was hurt. The murderer came from outside! Despite how crazy our claim sounds, His Honor can't deny it. Von Karma desperately wants him to, though! Nobody involved in the incident was wounded. That's a fact.

Maya has an idea. It's a crazy one. Remember how von Karma took that vacation after DL-6?

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

What if he took that vacation because he was nursing an injury? What if he got that injury because he was shot? What if he was shot in front of the elevator? What if he shot Gregory Edgeworth?! After all, it would take several months for a bullet wound to heal!

Maya Fey: Ace Attorney!

In a shaky voice, Phoenix tells the court Maya's theory: that Manfred von Karma shot and killed Gregory Edgeworth, that his vacation was due to the bullet wound! The court goes silent; it's an absolutely outrageous claim! Von Karma doesn't object. He calls our theory a ridiculous outburst: but we counter with the vacation theory! Von Karma tells us to prove that a bullet hit him.

...Remember that metal detector?

The mask slips!

Von Karma is rattled: we're on to him! This is my favorite moment of the entire case: when von Karma is utterly shaken. We've got him on the ropes! We run the metal detector over his body: it beeps on his shoulder! He claims that the bullet was from a separate incident years ago, but we can prove otherwise. After all, we have a bullet from the DL-6 Incident! Remember what we got told about ballistic markings?

If we take the bullet out and the ballistics markings match, then that proves von Karma was shot with the same gun that Gregory Edgeworth was shot with.

That proves that he shot Gregory Edgeworth.

That proves he was the murderer in the DL-6 incident!

Left with nowhere to go, and finally truly beaten, von Karma rages. He slams the desk as hard as he can and grabs his shoulder, screaming. Edgeworth knows that scream. It's the scream he heard in the elevator! A defeated and defiant von Karma slams his own head against the wall over and over, screaming bloody murder (no pun intended) as the case draws to a close.

A broken, pathetic God.

In the Courtroom Lobby, everyone comes to congratulate us: Gumshoe comes in with a big "whooooooooooooooop" and Larry comes in with lunch money. Lunch money? Larry was the culprit in the class trial! Gah, it all comes full circle! Lotta takes a picture, Mia makes her final appearance... and we go back to the Wright and Co. Law Offices.

Maya is leaving. She's going back to the village she calls home to master her spiritual powers. She still says that she feels useless, but without her we'd never have gotten the DL-6 bullet! With her spirits back up and a train to catch, we give her a very tearful and emotional farewell: and with that... we've come to the original end of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney!

See you, cowgirl: some day, somewhere!

What Really Happened?

On December 28, 2001, Gregory Edgeworth was defending somebody in a trial. Although he lost the trial, he left the prosecuting attorney he was facing up against—Manfred von Karma—a permanent penalty on his record. Manfred, incensed due to his desire for perfection, zoned out and found himself in the evidence room. As he was in the evidence room, and while Gregory was in the elevator alongside his son Miles and a bailiff named Yanni Yogi, an earthquake hit the courtroom and led to a blackout. Yogi and Gregory had gotten into a shouting match after hours stuck in the elevator, and Miles threw a heavy object he found at his feet to stop them from arguing. Manfred was standing in front of the elevator at this time, unsure why it wasn't working: in his state, he didn't realize a blackout had happened.

The thing Miles threw was a pistol, and it discharged when it hit the ground: shooting through the window and hitting Manfred in the shoulder. As Manfred was processing his being shot, the elevator doors opened. Three people were laying inside, unconscious due to oxygen deprivation, and Manfred von Karma picked up the pistol. He shot Gregory Edgeworth in the chest, taking the pistol to cover up any evidence and nursing his shoulder. The police force, completely out of leads, relied on a spirit medium named Misty Fey. Channeling Gregory's spirit, he said through her that the man who shot him was Yanni Yogi: he was protecting his son, who he thought really shot him.

Yanni Yogi was put on trial for Gregory's murder, but was acquitted because of the actions of Robert Hammond. The acquittal, however, was based on a plea of insanity and caused Yogi's fiancée Polly to commit suicide, his job to be lost, and his social standing to be permanently ruined. The police force blamed Misty Fey, labeling her a fraud after her role in the DL-6 incident was exposed by Redd White through Marvin Grossberg. Manfred decided to adopt Miles as his foster son, either wittingly or unwittingly grooming him to be the exact opposite of his father: a ruthless prosecutor without scruples, morals, or acquittals, which Miles took to handsomely (likely out of a desire to prevent what happened to him and his father from happening to anybody else). The so-called Demon Prosecutor, forged in the fires of DL-6 and molded by the influence of Manfred von Karma, was born. The murder was dubbed the DL-6 Incident, and wouldn't come up again until the trials of Maya Fey and Phoenix Wright for the murder of Mia Fey.

15 years after the DL-6 incident, right before the statute of limitations expired, Yanni Yogi received a letter in the mail alongside a pistol: this package was sent by none other than von Karma, determined to finally take his true revenge on Gregory Edgeworth. The letter was a set of instructions: he would call Robert Hammond to his house, kill him, take his coat and disguise himself as Hammond, lead Edgeworth out to the lake, and shoot twice into the water before falling backwards. He would then swim back to the boat shop, take Robert Hammond's body, and dump it in the lake to create the illusion that Edgeworth had shot and killed Robert Hammond. He did exactly as the letter said, and Edgeworth was arrested for the murder of Robert Hammond: all part of von Karma's ultimate plan, which was to get Edgeworth to admit what Gregory's spirit defended him from and what had haunted his dreams for years—that he had accidentally murdered his father in the DL-6 Incident, letting von Karma get off scot-free for the perfect crime.

THOUGHTS

God, I just love this case. 1-4 is one of my favorite cases in the entire franchise, and nearly always shows up in my top three whenever I'm talking about my favorite cases. I think it's a damn near perfect blend of mystery, characterization, character growth and development, and suspense.

As the second and last of PW:AA's locked room mysteries, Turnabout Goodbyes is undeniably the superior one. From a purely mysterious point of view, it's very good—and that turnabout? Mwah! I genuinely think that the boat murder is just 1-3 but better: a better locked room, a better turnabout, and better characters. As a fellow Southerner I'm particularly fond of Lotta—I'd love to get an ice tea with her, talkin' about paranormal stuff and horror stories. Wonder if she's from Appalachia: anyone else listen to Old Gods of Appalachia? It's a really good horror podcast. I now headcanon that she's from West Virginia.

Anyway! I think this case is sublime in nearly everything it tries to do. The main mystery is incredibly captivating, and this is one of those Ace Attorney cases where I can wholeheartedly say there's not a single bad character: Yanni Yogi is my favorite of the original four culprits, if for no other reason than my being a sucker for tragic villains. Manfred von Karma is also a slimy, gross bastard, and it feels wonderful to take him down: he's a well-written character and a personal favorite of mine, even if I think a later game in the series does what they tried to do with him but better. His design is peak, and his mannerisms in court? Delightfully smarmy. Taking him down is very satisfying, which is the best sign of a good villain!

The core three are at their best in this case. Maya is a massive standout; this is where she finally comes into her own as a character, being the end point of a great arc. Edgeworth and Phoenix go through a lot of development, and I think I prefer Phoenix's if for no reason than your gameplay mimics his growth. 1-1 sees you have Mia by your side; 1-2 sees you thrown into the deep end without Mia, even though you still have to rely on her in the end; 1-3 lets you and Maya take the front stage; with Mia only showing up as an assistant; and 1-4 leaves you and Maya to your own devices!

Unfortunately, this is where my one and only real criticism of 1-4 comes into play. The DL-6 trial is rather rushed, and Mia's showing up kind of undermines the journey I just outlined in my opinion. The DL-6 aspect of this case doesn't really take time to cook by the end; it's very fast, only lasting about 20-30 minutes in total for a case that's well over 3 hours. Still, it's wonderful! It's an absolutely awesome emotional climax for this game's original ending, and as that original ending? It's a damn good one.

Overall, 1-4 is incredible. I've said multiple times that it's one of my favorites, and I don't think that'll ever change. It does a lot of what 1-3 did only better, and 1-3 is already one of my favorites!

Next time, we'll enter into the final case for PW:AA... and one I'm not afraid to show my biases clear as day with. See you next time!

Final Rating: 9/10

FAVORITE LINES

"'Almost Christmas' means it wasn't Christmas!" - Phoenix Wright, after Larry's testimony

"Witness! You can't just say 'hello' and expect us to get anywhere! I want you to testify!" - Phoenix Wright, to Polly the parrot

"An idiot, who happens to be a friend of mine..." - Phoenix Wright, describing Larry to Lotta

"Your father shamed me with a penalty on my record! And you... you left a scar on my shoulder that will never fade! I'll... I'll bury you! I'll bury you with my bare hands! Death! Death!" - Manfred von Karma, during his breakdown

"Mr. Wright. You are truly the most unpredictable defense attorney I've ever known." - His Honor, to Phoenix Wright during the DL-6 trial

CASE RANKINGS

Turnabout Goodbyes (9/10)

Turnabout Samurai (8/10)

The First Turnabout (6/10)

Turnabout Sisters (5/10)

[girlactionfigure]

🔘 Wed morning  - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( 1 of 2 )

🟨 Many people immediately asked for evidence the Rafah attack reports were false, which the IDF provided definitively around 12 hours later.  And people asked: how did we know basically immediately?

- - if Hamas is publicizing it, it’s a lie.  They literally have created an industry with cameramen, lighting, professional horror makeup people, etc.  Yesterday’s CNN headline picture was obviously posed, with makeup on the mourning people.

- - when the figures change every hour or every report, it’s a lie.  You can tell their PR people are throwing out numbers until they see what gets accepted.

- - when the details don’t make sense, it’s likely a lie.

BUT, the reporters and then the public absorbs THE FIRST INFO - no matter how ridiculous.  We applaud those fighting the good fight with information, it’s always too late.  As from the next item below, we have world policy being made on the basis of the lie.  

One response I have heard is to immediately emphasize and reflect, which might force people to think a bit, like this: “I heard the Israelis bombed 50 innocent people!”… “Really?  I heard they bombed 5 million innocent children holding build-a-bears! And I saw a picture!  Nice bears though. And beautiful outfits on the children, wonder where you can buy them?”  

.. And they try again: Arab channels are reporting about 21 dead in an attack by an Israeli warplane on the tent area in Mawasi of Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip.  No documentation, no pictures, but watch for the Al Jazeera and CNN headlines.  IDF: no such attack.

Regarding the original, here’s it all in a nice video: https://x.com/AbuAliEnglishB1/status/1795504079491272925?t=BI4qgX821mbOTPwS2JaNOw&s=19

▪️ALGERIA AND SOUTH AFRICA TO REQUEST UN SEC COUNCIL RESOLUTION RE: RAFAH.  

▪️CROSS GREEN LINE SHOOTING - TULKARM to BAT HEFER.. masked terrorists identified with Hamas were seen shooting at Bat Hefer from the Tulkarm border wall, and yesterday there was an infiltration team that cross the wall and was captured. Also noting that Route 6 follows directly along part of the wall, putting both the towns and the major Israel traffic route at risk. (N12)

"Vengeance and Liberation Youth" Battalion take responsibility for shooting at Bat Hefer.

▪️PM ORDERS HALT ON “SETTLEMENT” HOUSE DESTRUCTION, DEFENSE DEPT DOES IT ANYWAY.. Despite Prime Minister Netanyahu's order not to destroy houses belonging to reservists during wartime - security forces destroyed this morning near the settlement of Adam a house of a soldier who is in the reserves. The Prime Minister's Office stated that his directive is still in effect. 

▪️CHINA REQUESTS HOUTHIS STOP SHIP ATTACKS, HOUTHIS SAY NO.. there was a meeting of the Chinese Foreign Minister in Yemen with senior officials in Yemen to stop the Houthi attacks in the Red and Arabian seas.  The answer: no.

🔘 Wed morning  - ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

( 2 of 2 )

▪️3 HERO SOLDIERS HAVE FALLEN.. (not from our regular source, so I’m less sure of this)  Paratroopers Brigade 50, Amir Glilov, Uri Bar Or, Udi Ofer.  (No ages or locations in the notice).  May their families be comforted among the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem, and may G-d avenge their blood.

▪️ECONOMY - INTEREST RATES.. Bank of Israel leaves the interest rate unchanged at 4.5%; The prime interest rate - 6%.  The dollar-shekel rate stays steady on the news at $1 = NIS 3.69

▪️SCAM / HACK WARNING.. People are receiving an incoming call from a confidential number, the speaker identifies as a representative of the police cyber team OR the national HQ for the protection of children OR the police info center, and requests that they provide a code received in an SMS message.

The code they ask for is the WhatsApp activation code, and will allow the hacker to take control of your WhatsApp.

NOBODY official will call you and ask for any SMS codes, EVER.  It’s a scam!

Hack attempts can be reported to the cyber center -> dial 119.

The cyber center recommends turning on 2 step verification for WhatsApp: Settings>Account>Two-step verification.

♦️Gaza: Air force attacks east of Khan Yunis and Sheikh Radwan.

♦️Gaza: Airstrikes in Nusirat, central and western Rafah.

♦️Gaza: Artillery in various areas in Rafah, north of Nusirat, east of Al-Maazi and Al-Boreij, east of Sajaiya, Jabaliya and Beit Lahiya.

♦️COUNTER-TERROR operations overnight in Shevika (near Tulkarm) and Tubas and Shoafat.  Plenty of gunfire, explosives thrown at security vehicles.

⭕ HOUTHIS shot 5 missiles at a Greek ship yesterday. HIT with 3 !

⭕ HEZBOLLAH ROCKETS at Shtula, 2 rounds.

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

NASA’s Webb Peers into the Extreme Outer Galaxy

Astronomers have directed NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope to examine the outskirts of our Milky Way galaxy. Scientists call this region the Extreme Outer Galaxy due to its location more than 58,000 light-years away from the Galactic Center. (For comparison, Earth is approximately 26,000 light-years from the center.)

A team of scientists used Webb’s NIRCam (Near-Infrared Camera) and MIRI (Mid-Infrared Instrument) to image select regions within two molecular clouds known as Digel Clouds 1 and 2. With its high degree of sensitivity and sharp resolution, the Webb data resolved these areas, which are hosts to star clusters

undergoing bursts of star formation

, in unprecedented detail. Details of this data include components of the clusters such as very young (Class 0) protostars, outflows and jets, and distinctive nebular structures.

These Webb observations, which came from telescope time allocated to Mike Ressler of NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Southern California, are enabling scientists to study star formation in the outer Milky Way in the same depth of detail as observations of star formation in our own solar neighborhood.

“In the past, we knew about these star forming regions but were not able to delve into their properties,” said Natsuko Izumi of Gifu University and the National Astronomical Observatory of Japan, lead author of the study. “The Webb data builds upon what we have incrementally gathered over the years from prior observations with different telescopes and observatories. We can get very powerful and impressive images of these clouds with Webb. In the case of Digel Cloud 2, I did not expect to see such active star formation and spectacular jets.”

Stars in the Making

Although the Digel Clouds are within our galaxy, they are relatively poor in elements heavier than hydrogen and helium. This composition makes them similar to dwarf galaxies

and our own Milky Way in its early history. Therefore, the team took the opportunity to use Webb to capture the activity occurring in four clusters of young stars within Digel Clouds 1 and 2: 1A, 1B, 2N, and 2S.

For Cloud 2S, Webb captured the main cluster containing young, newly formed stars. This dense area is quite active as several stars are emitting extended jets of material along their poles. Additionally, while scientists previously suspected a sub-cluster might be present within the cloud, Webb’s imaging capabilities confirmed its existence for the first time. 

“We know from studying other nearby star-forming regions that as stars form during their early life phase, they start emitting jets of material at their poles,” said Ressler, second author of the study and principal investigator of the observing program. “What was fascinating and astounding to me from the Webb data is that there are multiple jets shooting out in all different directions from this cluster of stars. It’s a little bit like a firecracker, where you see things shooting this way and that.”

The Saga of Stars

The Webb imagery skims the surface of the Extreme Outer Galaxy and the Digel Clouds, and is just a starting point for the team. They intend to revisit this outpost in the Milky Way to find answers to a variety of current mysteries, including the relative abundance of stars of various masses within Extreme Outer Galaxy star clusters. This measurement can help astronomers understand how a particular environment can influence different types of stars during their formation.

“I’m interested in continuing to study how star formation is occurring in these regions. By combining data from different observatories and telescopes, we can examine each stage in the evolution process,” said Izumi. “We also plan to investigate circumstellar disks

within the Extreme Outer Galaxy. We still don’t know why their lifetimes are shorter than in star-forming regions much closer to us. And of course, I’d like to understand the kinematics of the jets we detected in Cloud 2S.”

Though the story of star formation is complex and some chapters are still shrouded in mystery, Webb is gathering clues and helping astronomers unravel this intricate tale.

These findings have been published in the Astronomical Journal

IMAGE: Scientists used NASA’s James Webb Space Telescope to examine select star-forming areas in the Extreme Outer Galaxy in near- and mid-infrared light. Within this star-forming region, known as Digel Cloud 2S, the telescope observed young, newly formed stars and their extended jets of material. This Webb image also shows a dense sea of background galaxies and red nebulous structures within the region. In this image, colors were assigned to different filters from Webb’s MIRI and NIRCam: red (F1280W, F770W, F444W), green (F356W, F200W), and blue (F150W; F115W). Credit NASA, ESA, CSA, STScI, M. Ressler (JPL)

[gaybananabread]

Squealing Santa 2023 - Gift for @randommusicalfluff

Happy Holidays @randommusicalfluff! I’m happy I got paired with you, love your art! I’ve never written for Welcome Home before, but I finally got a good reason! Full disclosure, I tried my best to go all out; sorry if it’s a bit crazy. Again, happy holidays if you celebrate, and I hope you Enjoy!

(Big thanks to @hypahticklish for hosting @squealing-santa again; I love this event and the fact that you made it possible! Amazing job as always!)

Lee: Eddie, Frank

Ler: Frank, Eddie

Fandom: Welcome Home

Summary: Frank is freezing in the chilly weather of winter. Lucky for him, he has a living teddy-bear for a partner. When said partner is sleepy, though, some fluffy tickles ensue. Eddie decides to return the favor, albeit gently.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Frank shivered in the coolness of the post office, his thicker sweater vest doing little to keep him warm. Snow fell in delicate flakes outside, leaving little water dots against the window on contact. The insect lover would much rather be snuggled up in blankets in front of a warm fire, but he promised Eddie that he’d be patient. He was regretting that promise.

“Alright, darlin’! All done with sortin’ tomorrow’s letters. Ready to head in?” A warm fuzz entered Frank’s chest when he heard that southern drawl. Not enough to distract him from the crisp air, of course, but it helped. “Absolutely; it’s much too cold in this office. You really must get a nicer heater for this room.” 

The gray-skinned puppet moved to his partner’s side, a small smile gracing his lips when Eddie raised his arm and pulled him in close. He was so warm; Frank could’ve stayed there for the rest of the season.

Eddie just chuckled, unlocking the thick door that separated his living quarters from the post office. He couldn’t understand why Frank was so cold; the southern man just had a thin flannel over his usual postal attire. He led Frank over to an armchair, handing him a blanket and turning to the fireplace. “C’mon, freezer-bug. I’ll get the heat goin’.” 

That got an eye-roll and a few mumbles from the logical puppet. Freezer-bug? It was snowing outside! Eddie was just too cozy, with his soft belly, warm eyes, tender embrace, rich voice…oh dear. Frank felt his cheeks heat up, adding to the fuzzy feeling. Heat sounded nice, though he’d prefer cuddles.

Soon, the heater whirred, struggling to warm both the post office and his home. Frank wrapped the blanket snugly around his shoulders, trying to warm up. He could’ve used a squishy teddy-bear right about then. “You coming, dear?”

Eddie shook his head, lifting the lankier puppet up and placing him in his lap. He laid the blanket across both of them, rubbing Frank’s back to try and warm him. The long day of sorting mail and delivering packages that morning had him all tuckered out; soon, his eyes were drifting closed, his arms going slack on his partner’s back.

Normally, Frank would’ve just let him sleep and enjoyed the closeness. He had been waiting for cuddles all day, however, and had been teased for shivering. It was obviously lighthearted, but Frank was nothing if not a creature of spite. Some payback was in order.

Frank’s nimble fingers kneaded into his partner’s plush belly, squeezing and poking at the center. Eddie giggled sleepily, moving one hand to swat at the ticklish feeling. His partner had to stifle a chuckle as he dodged the hand, squeezing and poking at the squishy area above his waist.

A groggy yelp burst from the red-haired man, his hands shooting to grab Frank’s wrists. The gray puppet wasn’t about to let that slide; he shoved at Eddie’s tangerine hands, continuing to tickle the wonderful pudge. “D-DAHAharlihin’?! Whahahat’re yaha dohohoin’?!”

“Well, you’ve made me wait for affection all day, and you *were* being rather mean about my shivering. I need to get some kind of revenge, dear. You understand, yes?” Frank moved his wiggly fingers to Eddie’s ribs, sending the man into a fit of laughter.

“I-IHIHIHI’M SAHAHARRY! IHI’LL GIHIVE YA AHAHALL THE CUHUHUDDLES YOUHU WAHAHANT!” Frank just chuckled, holding on tight and teasing his partner’s ribs. He loved the sound of Eddie’s laughter best. It was so bright, rich and full; such an easy thing to melt at. For the moment, though, he was strong.

Frank’s fingers moved to tug at the fabric of his partner’s tucked-in shirt. The soft fabric gave easily, exposing the soft felt of his tangerine belly. “Ah, what a sight. This tum of yours looks awfully cozy, Mr. Dear. I hope you don’t mind~” Before Eddie could protest any further, eight cold fingers were scribbling on his poor belly.

“F-FRAHAHAHANK! NAHAHAT THAHAT!” Of course he minded! Eddie normally refrained from using Frank’s first name, per their little habit; pet names or Mr. Frankly was what he stuck with. He couldn't help it, it tickled! The cool temperature somehow made everything twice as sensitive.

Frank gasped, letting his dramatic side take over. “*Frank*? When did we get so unprofessional?! You’ve *insulted* me, Mr. Dear. This cannot go unpunished.” *Oh, what a drama king*…

He paused for a second, hovering his hands above Eddie for a moment. Eddie was about to whine, his protests dying in his throat when he saw where those wiggling fingers were heading. His hips were horrible, and everyone in the neighborhood knew it. *Especially* Frank. Oh boy… 

“D-Daharlin’ no! Wahahait, lehet’s talk ‘bout thihis! Ya don’t gotta- GYEEAAAH!” Frank let his hands touch down on Eddie’s hips, giving the love handles a firm squeeze. The postman squealed, jolting so hard he almost sent Frank flying. It didn’t deter the entomophile; he only dug in further.

The poor postman was an incoherent mess, sputtering through his loud, boisterous laughter. “F-FRAHAHAHA! IHI CAHAHA- IHI’M SAHAHARRY! YEHER KIHIHIHILLIN’ MEHEHE!” He bucked and thrashed, his slick red hair quickly becoming a mussed-up mess. So much for staying sharp…

“Oh, come now. Your hips can’t possibly be *that* ticklish. It’s illogical.” Frank smirked, kneading his partner’s hips and drilling his thumbs into the plush skin. Eddie flailed as he cackled, trying and failing to do anything but sit there and toss his head back with laughter. “Then again, you have always been a bit of an anomaly. I guess southern gentlemen are exempt from that rule.”

The tickle-drunk postman giggled and panted, his belly quivering as he tried to regain his composure. A beautiful red hue decorated his face, pairing wonderfully with his sunset-colored felt. “Ohoho gohosh… Geheez, Mr. Frankly. Thahat was mihighty mean…”

Eddie drummed his legs against the chair, losing his marbles over the tickling. It was so bad! Frank didn’t normally go that far with his tickles, but he definitely was that time.

Eddie’s hand tapped at Frank’s arm, signaling that he really couldn’t handle any more. The lanky puppet immediately stopped, moving to rub his partner’s belly soothingly. He didn’t really need to, but it felt right; plus, his hands were still cold.

Frank huffed, rolling his eyes and snuggling up to Eddie. “Oh, hush. You know you enjoyed it, *dearest*~” He felt his cheeks heat further, the butterflies in his stomach going wild. The man blamed Frank’s insect obsession.

Even though he was tired, he wrapped his arms around Frank and held him close. Any thoughts of moving to the bedroom were gone, the armchair and Frank seeming as comfortable as ever. Eddie sighed, relaxing into the plush fabric and playing with the other puppet’s hair. “Whooo…got me plum tuckered, darlin’. Was there s’posed to be a point to all’a that?”

Frank just shrugged, getting comfortable on his warm “bed” for the night; time had really flown. “It seemed enjoyable, and it absolutely was. Besides, all that laughing warmed you up. Now I’ve got a nice warm bed…” The puppet had no shame, smiling softly and curling up even further.

Eddie huffed at his reasoning; only Frank… He was about to do the same until a fun idea popped into his head. A little retribution would be nice, and his partner *was* still complaining about being cold. Even if he was tired, the red-haired man was ready to give Frank a taste of his own medicine.

Pretending to doze off again, Eddie wrapped his arms around Frank and laid his hands on the bug lover’s sides. Frank thought nothing of it, assuming his dear would be too tired for revenge; oh, how wrong he was. Right as Frank’s eyes closed, Eddie struck. He wiggled his fingers into the gray puppet’s soft sides, using his arms to hold him tight.

Frank squeaked, a pink glow showing on his gray cheeks. “D-dehehearest! Ihi thohohought youhu wehehere tihihired!” The postman just smiled fondly, a gleam of mischief in his warm eyes. “Oh, I am. I reckon some payback’s in order before my nap, don’tcha think?” His tangerine-colored fingers gently scribbled and squeezed along Frank’s sides, pulling giggle after giggle from him.

The butterfly enthusiast flapped his hands, Eddie’s strong arms restricting any other movement. His partner cooed at the stims, granting himself one small kiss to the top of Frank’s head. “Yer adorable, darlin’. Flappin’ your hands like a lil’ butterfly~” 

Frank had to resist the urge to melt at the kiss, opting for more fruitless squirming. He tried to keep the gag going, but the puppet *could not* take what he dished out. “M-mihister- daharn it, Eddiehehehe!” 

The southern man gasped, a wide smile taking over his features; he’d never had the best poker face. “And you yelled at me and everythin’! Look’it you, callin’ me by my first name. Yer lucky I’m such a nice fella.” Eddie teased each of Frank’s ribs, making the intellectual fellow squeak and squeal. It was so unfairly gentle…

“Dehehearest! Plehehease!” The radiant blush against Frank’s gray felt was honestly adorable to Eddie. He could look at it all day, the lovely sound of his giggles pairing perfectly. However, he knew that the other puppet was tired, and that they could both seriously use a nap. Reluctantly, Eddie slowed to gentle traces, drawing small shapes across Frank’s sides and lower back.

“Ohoho dear…thahank you.” Frank took a few giggly breaths, melting into the gentle touch. “No problem, buggy-boo. Now you get your nap.” The postman kissed his head, adjusting the blanket and whispering sweet nothings into his ear. 

Frank was out in seconds, the warmth of his partner’s embrace and the slight exhaustion from giggling sending him straight to dreamland. Eddie chuckled fondly as he watched him doze off; it was too cute.

Shifting in the armchair, he closed his eyes, arms still around Frank as he joined the other puppet in a nap. Snow continued to fall outside, the temperature steadily dropping; in the comfort of Eddie’s home, however, the two couldn’t be happier. The perfect end to a cold winter’s day: a tickly cuddle session and nap with a lover.

[rainylana]

“You’re a good boy.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie wants to help. he’s tried to help. you won’t let him. long story short you fuck on a picnic table.

warnings: okay so writing this just felt dark to me. abuse, physically and verbally, reader is brainwashed and delusional honestly, also described with a southern, squeaky voice, language, smut, sir kink, spanking, reader wants eddie to hurt her but he doesn’t feel good about it, public sex, sex on a picnic table, v quick orgasms (i’ll die on the hill that eddie doesn’t last long) drinking, cheating ( reader’s boyfriend is an asshole so it’s okay), slight manipulation on behalf of the reader, reader doesn’t know the different between love and pain. i feel like eddie has a different vibe to him here, but i wrote him that way purposely as the storyline is dark. let me know what you thought of this! i like the way it turned out.

taglist!

@ariesl0ves3ddiemuns0n @eddiemania @eddiemunson @kellysimagines @imabadarsebard @supercalifragilisticprincess @antigoneidk @averysblog @catherinnn @ahzysauce @imangy @softyutae @phantomxoxo @fionnthebandersnacc @delilahtaylorsverson @justaproudslytherpuff @cosmic-lavender @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @imdoingbetternow @your-starless-eyes-remain @flowers-and-tsukki @ultimate-sdmn-trash @blowing-mikey @tripthlightfantastic @chaos-incorp @nothisispatric @mic429 @avobabe87 @hearts4laura @aa-li-yah @lillianofliterature @kaqua @underthebatcape @ches-86 @itiscj @noturmom15 @lexthemess21 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @no0neknowsm3 @rovckwells @ohlovelyhollow @tessiemessie @heeyitsg @genuine-possum @xx-hospitalforsouls-xx-blog @kneelforloki @actuallybarb @fvcking-gxddess @edzmunsonswife @basicallybats

Eddie and Wayne sat on the shared picnic table of the trailer park, centered around a fire pit with empty beer cans and cigarette butts decorated around it. They spent a lot of time there, as did the other residents in the late night hours. It was a place where him and his uncle could catch up, shoot the shit and do what uncles and nephews did these days. There really wasn’t much of that going on tonight though. Eddie had a stressed, pensive look on his face, elbows resting on his bouncing knees and rings scraping together from shaking hands. His eyes were narrowed and his brows were creased, lips in a tight line and ears straining to hear.

Wayne was leaning his back against the table top, glancing between his nephew and your trailer that was only fifty some feet away from them. He’d occasionally pat Eddie’s back when he’d tense up from another yell or scream, debating whether or not to try and convince him to just go inside and go to sleep. He knew he wouldn’t listen, anyways. Wayne sighed tiredly at the sound of something being thrown. He hoped tonight wouldn’t be a night were he’d have to call the police again, not that it ever really did much.

You had a reputation, and not a very good one. Your boyfriend, who you lived with, was an absolute shit head who treaded you like dirt underneath his shoes. And the worst part? You let it happen. No matter how many times Wayne called the police or Eddie tried begging you to leave him, you wouldn’t. You never really shared why, but you didn’t think it was anyone’s business, anyways. It was your relationship.

You’d been there for almost five years now, and it was like this almost every other night. Nights when there was no yelling was when everyone got concerned. It wasn’t just Eddie and Wayne. No, everyone was concerned for your safety. There were times where the whole trailer park tried to have an intervention when he’d beaten you up too badly, thrown you outside the door and kicked you against the gravel. Your boyfriend had spent the night in jail that night, the women of the trailer park took care of you, and Eddie visited your window around two am.

But nothing anyone ever said or did was good enough. You made it clear that you weren’t leaving, that he loved you in his own way, and that you loved him. You liked the way he treated you. It was hard for Eddie to understand why you stayed and Wayne knew this, so he tried to help him better understand. They could only do so much to help you, especially when you didn’t want help to begin with. Wayne wasn’t sure why Eddie was so invested with you. Maybe it was just the sole fact that what was happening was wrong and he wanted to help a lady in trouble, sure. He’d given that thought. That’s how mostly everyone saw it. But he knew it was something more for Eddie.

Maybe he saw himself in you. Maybe he had a crush on you. Who knows. But Wayne worried that he was going to invest himself too much in your safety. As much as he knew what was happening was wrong, that it needed to stop and your boyfriend needed to locked away, he didn’t want his nephew to get hurt.

Eddie was biting at his nails hazardously to the point Wayne could see blood crusted around his thumb. It was a nice night out for the most part. The air was crisp and the sky was clear, full of stars and crickets, screams and shouts in the background. They both jumped when your boyfriend stormed. He slammed open the door and tumbled down the steps, barely holding himself up with a beer bottle clutched tightly in his grasp.

“You clean that shit off your face, you hear me!” He slurred, stumbling back and forth with sweat rolling down his face.

“Go fuck your self!” You screamed, bracing yourself against the doorframe and holding it tightly, then stretching out your arm to give him the finger.

Eddie flinched when he threw down the bottle, his whole body on edge incase he needed to step in. Wayne placed a hand on his shoulder blades.

“Bitch.” He sneered, giving the two men a nasty glare before he he stumbled off down the gravel road and off to god knows where. You stumbled down the steps yourself, not having seen the men yet, and glared off in his distance as you crossed your arms. They couldn’t tell if you were drunk or not.

“Y/n?” Wayne took action, clearing his throat.

You spun around and swallowed, cocking your head and letting out a breathy smile. “Hi, boys.” You politely waved at them.

“Everything okay?” He noticed your disheveled state. “Need anything?”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head, wiping a tear track away. “No need to worry bout me, Wayne. Imma’ big girl.”

Eddie looked like a little boy. He sat there silently and stared at you with big eyes. Wayne nodded and looked at his nephew. “You let me know if you need something, k?” He spoke to both you and Eddie, getting a nod from the younger man as he watched his uncle walk back to their trailer.

“Not gonna talk to me, Eddie?” Your voice was small and meek, questioning and bubbly all at once.

Eddie blinked at your outfit, scanning you up and down, then the make up on your face. “What is all that?”

You smiled wildly and held out your arms. “In it’ pretty? I wanna be like all the girls on the tv! I’m gonna be an actress!” You skipped over and settled beside Eddie, bumping shoulders and taking his hand in yours, giving it friendly squeezes.

“Was that what that was all about?” He raised a brow, eyes glued to the glitter you had on your eyes and cheekbones. You were a fascinating person. Despite the situation you lived in, you were oddly….happy? No, happy didn’t seem like the right word. No, you were brainwashed was how Eddie saw it. You wore a red, short dress that had black gems across the bottom. It looked like something from the 20’s, and your hair was let down your back freely with wild and bright makeup on your face, tear tracks and all.

Your face was always shiny. No matter when he saw you, your face always had old tears on your cheeks, etched into your makeup. It was just apart of you. You were always so shiny.

“Just don’t want me to leave him, is all.” You shrugged your shoulder. You wouldn’t leave anyways. “Do you like my dress?”

He swallowed and nodded, giving you another once over, your hand still holding his tightly. You made him extremely confused. You were so optimistic and falsely happy. You flirted with him all the time and even kissed him on multiple occasions. He never stopped you. No, he was practically head over heals for you and he didn’t know why. All he knew was that he wanted to keep you safe and away from him, but Wayne was right, they could only do so much, especially when you didn’t want help.

Wayne told him over and over that the best thing he could do was be there for you, to be a friend and someone to lean on in the midst of everything, so he tried his best to do so.

“You’re quiet tonight.” You placed your arm on his chest and traced the muscles underneath his shirt, batting your lashes at him.

He stared at you then flickered down at your lips. “Jus’ thinkin.”

“Bout?”

“You’ll get mad.” He looked at the ground for a brief minute, knowing you did no like being pestered about your relationship.

You sighed, knowing that was what he was thinking about, and grumbled, leaning over to place your head against his chest. “Stop it, Eds. Worry too much.”

He loved your voice. It was almost squeaky, dripping in a southern accent and he loved how you pronounced his name. It was high pitched and downright adorable.

This was a routine that Eddie knew well too much. He could sit there and berate you for staying, do the same thing everyone else did, but that would do no good. It was an old song that you didn’t sing along to anymore and had no desire to hear. Be a friend.

“So, an actress, huh?”

You looked at him and beamed with a wide smile. “Mhm!” You hummed through your pearly teeth. “Think I can be a star, Eddie?”

“I think you could be anything you want to be, y/n.” He rested his elbow on the picnic table, letting go of your hand to sat behind your back where you leaned.

“I haven’t been to the movies in so long.” You sighed, twirling your fingers and looking up to the starlight sky. “Don’t even member’ last time I went. He won’t take me no more.”

You turned your face to the side and he could see the faded purple of an old black eye. He swallowed hard before he glanced down at your thigh brushing against his rough jeans. “I would take you, but I know you wouldn’t go.”

You smiled sweetly and picked your bare feet off the ground, bringing your knees to your chest. “Maybe we could keep it a secret! We don’t gotta tell know one, Eddie.” You looked at him with big, full eyes that made him nod.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You breathed whimsically and curled into him, causing him to stiffen awkwardly. Wayne warned him about getting too friendly with you, but he didn’t seem to care too much.

“You’re so good to me.” You yawned quietly, turning to lay your head in his lap. He gulped and held his hands awkwardly in the air before you grabbed his ringed palm and brought it down to rest against your belly. “Always wantin’ to take care of me.”

He stared down at you as you got sleepier. Your eyes grew heavy and you closed them with soft fluttered, fingers wrapped around his wrist. He brought up his other hand to brush away some loose hair, lightly tracing the fading bruise around your eye. It wasn’t fair that you stayed with him. You could have anyone you wanted to. You could have him. You were so beautiful and sweet. Why did you stay there with him? It just wasn’t right. Through no fault of your own, you were sick in the head.

He seen your lip twitch as he traced the bruise, ghosting it lightly. He sighed heavily with creased brows. “I wish you wouldn’t let him treat you this way.”

You opened your eyes and cocked your head. “Like how?”

“You know how.” He gestured toward the bruise.

You shrugged your shoulder with a light smile, leaning up on your elbows. “Just how he loves me, Eddie. He’s good to me in his own way.”

“Oh, yeah? Like how?” He couldn’t help the malice that came through. “All he does is beat on you, y/n.”

“He doesn’t!” You snapped, your voice cracking through your thick accent, raising up off his lap. You angrily crossed your arms and huffed, looking away from him. “He loves me, Eddie! You don’t know what being in love is like!”

“I know it’s not that!” He pointed to your bruise.

“Or this.” He picked up your wrist and flipped it, pointing to the finger prints from being gripped too tightly.

“Stop it!” You yanked your arm away from him and let out a cry, scooting away from him.

Emotions had come out too quickly, too suddenly, and now Eddie was left with a hole in his heart that felt guilty for making you upset. But damnit, he was upset. You controlled his every thought. He couldn’t focus in school or work, during his campaigns or band rehearsal. He could only think about you and it was driving him crazy. And frankly, it was pissing him off.

“Sorry.” He swallowed, slouching slightly in his posture. He gave you a sideways look at the sound of your sniffle. You were crying again.

“Why do you care so much?” You allowed yourself to say.

Why did he care so much? He didn’t know.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, staring down at the exposure of your thighs. “I just know that…that you deserve so much better than him, and I don’t like seeing you hurt. Is that too difficult to understand?”

You turned to look at him, and he swallowed uncomfortably at your tear struck face, eyes sinking a little. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away. “Everyone says that.” You answered thickly, voice small and weak. “But you’re the only one who really means it. I know how much you want me to leave him.”

He only nodded, afraid of what he would say if he chose to spoke. You shocked him when you placed a small kiss on his lips, just a little peck, and cupped his cheek with your palm. He gave you a lovestruck look before you climbed into his lap, reconnecting your lips in a tangle of desperation and passion. You held his face and he folded his long arms around your back. You shamelessly grinded on his lap, making him groan in your mouth before he bucked his hips up between your legs.

“Does it- does it make you- mad that I stay?” You spoke between kisses, tongues lapping and licking teeth.

“Yes.” He groaned, moving down to your neck to suckle the skin. His dick was hard against your thigh. “You piss me off.”

You whimpered and tilted your eyes up to the stars. You reached around to grab his hand, placing it on your mound and rubbing yourself against his palm. “I’m sorry.” You cried, more tears slipping past your lids.

He came back up to your lips, holding your cheek with his free palm as he kept his other cupped on your cunt. You groaned at the feeling of his hand on your face. “Eddie,” You panted. “Want you to hit me.”

His brows furrowed. You kept his hand on your cheek. He pulled away with a look. “What?”

“Please.” You begged in tears, looking at him with such a look that it nearly made him crumble. “Hurt me. I’ve made you mad. I don’t want you to be mad at me, Eddie.”

“I’m not mad.” He denied quickly, pulling his hand from your cunt to rest against your thigh.

“Please,” You whimpered, pressing your nose against his. “I want to feel your hands. I need to feel something, please- please hit me, Eddie. Hurt me.” Your breath came out in pants that caused the blood to rush to his cock, and you placed your hand on the bulge underneath you that caused him to gasp shortly, gripping the picnic table he sat on.

“Fuck.” He groaned, eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck, y/n…we…he might,”

“He’s not coming back anytime soon.” You answered softly, fingers trailing the tent in his pants. Your eyes were shining with tears while his looks straight up guilty and in love. You were manipulating him with your power that you held, but he didn’t care. He moaned lightly when you squeezed him.

“You don’t deserve to be hit.” The veins in his arms poked out from the chill in the night, his Megadeth shirt clinging to his muscles.

“Maybe not.” You said hoarsely, the hazy glow of the street light above you making the purple glitter on your cheeks sparkle, the red lipstick you wore smudged from his full lips. “But I want to. Not by him. By you. Please, Eddie. Make me feel something. I can’t feel anymore. Help me feel, Eddie.”

You both were moaning through your words when you started arching your back and pressing your cunt into his jeans, your nails digging into his back. “How?” He said thickly, his lips parting. “How do..here?” He grabbed your hand and placed it on your cheek, his heart racing.

You shook your head. “No.”

He looked down at your breasts, closing his eyes for a brief second before he pulled your hand down to your pussy. “Here?”

You stifled a moan at the contact, but shook your head again. He grew confused and you pressed your chest against him, holding him, and you dragged his hand around your waist to place his hand on the curve of your ass, the angle barely keeping it covered. “Here.” You whispered into his ear.

He raised a brow and squeezed the flesh of your ass, his stomach doing cartwheels when you whined. “Here? Want me to hit you here?”

You nodded this time. “Yes, sir.”

He still didn’t feel good about it, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. The girl he was hopelessly ogling over was grinding herself on him, leaving sloppy trails down his neck and asking him to spank her. It may have been wrong. No, it was wrong. But if it was really what you wanted, then so be it.

“Bend over.”

You obliged quickly, maneuvering yourself off of him so you could lower yourself down to his lap, your ass resting on his thighs. Eddie gave a scan around him. Nobody was out, but that didn’t mean his uncle wayne wouldn’t be coming back out to smoke or check on him.

He looked back down to you and kept in a filthy moan at the sight, and he crumbled even further when you reached around to pull your dress up, revealing your white cotton underwear. He gulped nervously, resting a hand on your thigh. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes, sir.” You said bashfully, resting your cheek on the moldy wood. “Make me cry, Eddie. Be mean to me.”

Sir was sending him over the edge. “Okay.” He muttered. “Just..just tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” He waited for you to nod.

He rested his hand on the curvature of your panties, painfully hard, and took a breath before he lifted his hand and brought it down on your bottom. You said nothing, and his immediately went to your face to see if you were okay. He slapped it down again, the same cheek and the same speed. You said nothing again, your eyes a hazy glow under the light.

He smacked you a little hard on the third and fourth hit, and he noticed how your lips twitched a bit, making him twitch in his pants. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir.” Your face was growing red. “But I…I want you to hit me harder. You’re not being mean enough.”

His lips parted as a hesitant look crossed his features, and he nervously looked around to see if any spectators were out. He did not want to traumatize his uncle.

He surprised you, and himself, with a sharp, full handed blow that made you squeal that time. His eyes widened in concern, but your moan calmed him. “Yeah. Like that.” You panted, and he swallowed roughly. He was going to give you what you wanted.

He took down your panties until they rested at your ankles, and you kicked them off without care. He scooted out to the edge of the seat so he could lift your backside higher up on his thigh, your feet touching the ground now. Your heart started to race. “Comfortable?” His voice surprising came out dominating, and you nodded meekly.

“Cat got your tongue?” He wanted to hear sir again.

You blushed, licking your lips as you felt your pussy throb for him. “Yes, sir. I’m comfortable.”

This was wrong. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong to hurt you, even if you wanted it. He shouldn’t be treating you like some whore out in the middle of the street for shit sakes.

“How mean?” He said softly, making your eyes flutter shut. You buried your face in the wood beneath you.

“Very mean.” You answered honestly. “Sir.”

He placed his hand on the smooth skin of your bottom, just a hint of pink from his previous slaps. He wanted to see it brighter. Very mean. He lifted his hand and began slapping it down hard, alternating between each cheek in firm, heavy blows that made you gasp out surprisingly at his dedication to your cause to make you cry.

He kept his eyes glued to your face, watching the way your jaw stayed unhinged, eyes filled with tears and the way your hands gripped the wood plank beneath you. You were gasping and moaning and crying all at the same time, a look of euphoric pain and pleasure dancing in the glitter you painted on yourself. His hand was burning to the point it hurt himself, but he didn’t stop, he only switched hands, the one with the three big, chunky rings. He could only imagine how your ass felt.

Slap after slap, it burned so hotly that it scorched your skin and it felt like it was digging through the bone and would come out on the other side. Both you and Eddie were panting, and you shamelessly began rocking yourself back and forth of his thigh to get some friction. He could see your shiny arousal dripping between your thighs, and that was only ambition to spank you harder.

You let out a blubbering sob as he laid red hand prints on your ass, making sure to mark each surface of your skin. It shocked him how you weren’t squirming away. Your arms clawed at the wood and you arched your back, but you weren’t kicking your legs out in pain. You laid right there and took it all. It made his heart ache with guilt.

The pulsing ache between your legs was so strong that you reached your hand under your belly to find your clit, rubbing fast, erratic circles that just wasn’t getting the job done. Eddie groaned above you at the sight. “Can I fuck you?” He said it without care and reason, in a husky and desperate tone.

“Yes!” You sobbed, the pain in his hits starting to become too overwhelming. He stopped as soon as you said it, and you gasped when he gripped your forearms and spun you around to bend you over the picnic table. You groaned out as the wood cut into your skin, but you didn’t care. Eddie hurriedly unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans and boxers just bellow his hips, aligning his hard, thick cock at your entrance and thrusting himself in. You both simultaneously moaned out in relief at the feeling, his chest against your back as his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you up off the table by a few inches.

He thrusted hard into you that made you choke on your breath, eyes blurred with tears as the glitter melted down your neck from tear tracks. His cock abused your g spot and you pulsed and swelled around him, his breath hot in your head and dark curls tickling your neck. It was completely disgusting the way he was fucking you, rough and desperate with pornographic and filthy moans both shamefully leaving you. It wouldn’t have been a shocker if everyone heard what was going on.

Eddie groaned when he shot his load into you with one final, sharp and deep thrust of his hips, his stomach clenching and knees buckling against the sides of yours. You sang out in moans and whimpers as you clenched around him, the breath taken from your lungs as you reached out to grip the edge of the table, nails practically chipping. You both rested there for a minute in sweat and tears before he dragged himself out of your sore cunt.

He plopped himself down on the seat, panting heavily as you— decided not to sit, and he tucked himself back into his jeans, leaving his belt unbuckled. You turned your neck and lifted your dress to see the redness of your skin, some parts purple and bruised. Eddie looked over and saw you, going up to your eyes and widening slightly to see your reaction. All you did was smile and pick up your panties, leaning down to pat him on the cheek. “Thanks, Eddie.” You said gratefully.

“You’re a good boy.”

He watched you turn on your heal and walk with shaky legs back to the travel, gravel digging in to your bare feet. You never seemed to have shoes on. Guilt started to eat him alive, and his face etched in confusion and sorrow. Despite the mind blowing orgasm he had, right now, he did not feel good.

[eretzyisrael]

How Israel Lost the Information War

Yesterday I was listening to a news program on the radio while preparing dinner. The host asked his subject – I don’t recall who it was, probably an opposition member of the Knesset – this question: how can it be that world opinion has become solidly anti-Israel only a few months after the worst pogrom since the Holocaust, in which more than a thousand Jews were murdered in the most brutal fashion imaginable, in which hundreds of women were raped and children tortured to death? The predictable and stupidly self-serving political answer was that it was the fault of the Netanyahu government, which had “mismanaged” the war. But what is the correct answer?

The real reason is that Israel, while successful in the “kinetic” aspects of the campaign against Hamas, has been overwhelmingly defeated in the less visible theater of information warfare.

The roots of this defeat go back decades. There was as yet no “mismanagement” on the day after the Hamas invasion, when there was an outburst of anti-Israel demonstrations and attacks on Jews around the world while the rampage was still continuing in parts of southern Israel. The ground was prepared as far back as the 1970s, when a wave of Arab petrodollars, guided by the Soviet KGB, flowed into a massive project of psychological and diplomatic warfare against the Jewish state. It wasn’t so difficult for them – the built-in antisemitism of the West, temporarily suppressed after the Holocaust, found a new outlet. It was easy, too, to nurture antisemitic elements in the Muslim world. In the West, the educational systems were infiltrated and subverted, starting with the “best” universities and continuing down to textbooks and curricula for elementary schools. A reality-inverting identification was made between Zionism and Western colonialism and racism, benefiting from both the anger of the formerly colonized and the guilt of the colonizers.

Funds for anti-Israel initiatives also came from the network of charities associated with George Soros, starting around the beginning of the 1990s. This money nourished many of the NGOs and human rights groups that became centers of anti-Israel propaganda, and continues to support them.1

In the diplomatic realm, the invention of the Palestinian Refugee after Israel’s War of Independence (a war of national liberation in which the formerly colonized Jews fought Arab proxies of the British Empire!), provided Hamas with the troops it needed, fed and educated to the point of fanatic hatred with Western money. Hamas combined the multi-faceted indoctrination against Jews and Israel, pioneered by the PLO after Oslo, with religious jihad. Both the West and the Muslim world were primed and ready to blame Israel for the murder, rape, and pillage of her people. And the great-power rivals of the US, Russia and China, were only too happy to join in the take-down of what they see (correctly?) as an American satellite, an outpost of the US in an important zone of contention.

Given the fertile soil, the propaganda offensive of Hamas and its supporters when Israel counterattacked blossomed into a worldwide flourishing of anti-Israel and anti-Jewish expression. The Palestinians, who have developed the technique of exploiting their supposed victimhood, sometimes by exaggeration, sometimes by invention (as in the alleged shooting of the boy Mohammad al Dura in 2000, probably the most blatant yet effective “Pallywood” production ever), and sometimes by deliberately putting their people in harm’s way, pulled out all the stops. Soon the horrors of October 7th were drowned out by the suffering of the Gazans affected by the war that their leaders had started. Western media and humanitarian organizations slavishly repeated Hamas propaganda about civilian casualties with proforma disclosures that their only source was Hamas.

Mismanagement on the part of Israel also goes back decades. It includes overdependence on the US and consequent weakness in the face of pressure from unfriendly administrations, inability to overcome wish-fulfillment illusions about Palestinian motives and plans, weakness in the face of domestic pressure (for example, the release of more than a thousand imprisoned terrorists in return for one kidnapped soldier), and the tendency to prioritize internal political issues over serious external threats. A very serious failure has been our sporadic, inconsistent, and poorly funded actions in the information arena, while our enemies have implemented a long-term, carefully planned and meticulously executed campaign.

Al Jazeera, began broadcasting in Arabic by satellite in 1996, and since then has added multiple languages, including English. Based in Qatar and very influential in the Arab world, it has been in the forefront of anti-Israel propaganda ever since. In wartime, it specializes in inflammatory stories and photos of “atrocities” allegedly committed by the IDF (pictures from Syria and natural disasters are sometimes used). Left-leaning Western media, like the British Guardian newspaper have always followed an anti-Israel line; and the BBC is far from impartial. More recently, mainstream media in the US like the NY Times and Washington Post newspapers, the NPR radio network, CNN, and others – staffed by the products of “good” universities – have become more than merely biased: at their worst (which is often), they are mouthpieces for Hamas. Pro-Israel media in the West are rare and marginal. Some of Israel’s own media – in particular the English edition of Ha’aretz, which is widely read throughout the world – is only slightly less toxic than Al Jazeera. Israel is overwhelmed on social media as well, in part by botnets, but also by individuals and anti-Israel NGOs which dedicate staff to this function.

The combination of governments, international institutions, NGOs, media, academic institutions, and the arts all promulgating the carefully nurtured myths of Palestinian victimization and Israeli malevolence have overpowered Israel’s woefully inadequate attempts at a response.

In short, Israel has been and continues to be outgunned in the realm of information warfare. There have been sporadic attempts to improve the situation, but the funds for such a massive undertaking have never been available, nor would there likely be agreement on precisely what the message should be and how it should be presented. And we don’t have decades to lay the groundwork and gradually uproot the deep-seated antisemitism and hatred of the state of the Jews that has developed over time, even if we knew how to do it.

The best strategy in the face of this defeat therefore will be to depend on the human tendency to cheer for the winner: to be the “strong horse” that everyone bets on. Israel will need to defeat its enemies on the physical plane, to humiliate them and strike fear into the ones that are left. Rather than a picture of “responsible citizenship” that the world has been conditioned to disbelieve, our image should be that of a violent and dangerous player. In an environment where we can’t create warmth, we should at least inspire trepidation.

1 Alexander H. Joffe, “Bad Investment: The Philanthropy of George Soros and the Arab-Israeli Conflict, How Soros-funded Groups Increase Tensions in a Troubled Region: May 2013 https://www.ngo-monitor.org/soros.pdf

[natlacentral]

ONE NAME IS ALL KIAWENTIIO NEEDS

The mononymic Mohawk actress stars in the highly anticipated new adaptation of “Avatar: The Last Airbender,” one of Netflix’s most expensive series ever. It’s a role she’s been preparing for almost her entire life.

At first, it’s a ripple. Hovering drops rising from a puddle soon cluster into a faster-moving, levitating stream that swirls into an orb of water floating over a young woman. The focused motion of her hands control this aquatic flow. In the lore of the beloved animated series Avatar: The Last Airbender, the ability to manipulate the elements is known as “bending” and wielding this power is Katara, a fan-favorite of the franchise’s core characters. In this instance, she’s no longer animated, but rather living and breathing in Netflix’s recent adaptation of the cult show, as played by Kiawentiio, the 17-year-old actress and singer-songwriter from the Mohawk Nation at Akwesasne. For young Indigenous audiences, it’s a powerful moment seeing what was always an Indigenous-coded character, dynamic and independent, brought to life by an Indigenous actor. Her interpretation of the heroine is both true to its source material and grounded in an undeniable sense of Indigeneity, notable in the scenes of Katara’s survival of the violence inflicted upon her tribe and their later resistance to its recurrence. Free from the confines of Western film tropes or the expected relegation to secondary and background roles, Kiawentiio’s Katara is unprecedented. She’s both of this world and beyond. A sign of things to come.

There’s a balletic velocity to Kiawentiio when she arrives at her photo shoot, a certain sense of purpose and the pull of a trajectory toward something just off of the horizon. She’s traveling with her mother Barbara, who works in their community’s cultural restoration efforts, and her father Corey, a volunteer firefighter and building inspector for their tribe. They beam with pride as they watch her and recount the recent stops she’s had on the show’s busy press tour. In the dressing room, she smiles while reviewing pieces she requested from Indigenous designers Josh Tafoya and Karen Francis. It’s like witnessing someone coming into alignment, a new possibility realized. She says, “It feels like it’s not real, to be honest. Sometimes it feels like I’m living this fantasy life or living someone else’s life, especially with where I come from.”

The evening prior, Kiawentiio walked the red carpet for Avatar’s Los Angeles premiere in a stunning ensemble, also fashioned by Indigenous designers: an ice-blue duo chrome taffeta skirt by Evan Ducharme, accented by a hand-beaded corset from Tasha Marie, and jewelry by BYCHARI and Dean Davidson. The look, both in color and from the corset’s beaded wave design, is a subtle nod to Katara’s Southern Water Tribe in the show. Kiawentiio grew up watching the original series, which makes this all the more surreal. “For filming, we were in British Columbia for almost a year and stepping out of that was really kind of like a culture shock,” she explains.

It’s not lost on her that this is her moment, one that she’s balanced with both grace and aplomb, but also a time to reflect on all that’s led her to this point. From her beginnings as a guest star a mere five years ago on the Canadian series Anne With an E, to playing the title character in Tracey Deer’s debut feature Beans in 2020, and more recently appearing in Peacock’s Rutherford Falls and Marvel’s What If…?, Kiawentiio’s career has been nothing short of meteoric. In many ways it mirrors the creative boom of Indigenous-led and centered television in the last half-decade. That a young, Indigenous actor is now one of the leads in a $120 million Netflix production—one of its most expensive to date—that also happens to be an adaptation of what is considered to be one of the best animated series of all time, is as much of a cultural tipping point as it is an expectation rewriting itself. And Kiawentiio is at its precipice.

Over the phone, Kiawentiio discussed this moment and what it means to her.

How did you connect with the Indigenous designers you’ve chosen to work with recently?

One of the looks was Josh Tafoya, a fashion designer out of New Mexico. I actually got to meet him, I think it was two years ago now. He also works closely with 4Kinship, which is also a really cool Indigenous vintage brand. For the red carpet, I got to work with two Indigenous designers to custom-make this very beautiful gown. Tasha Marie Designs was the designer that beaded my corset and Evan Ducharme made my skirt, and they both just came together so beautifully. I love how it turned out, truly.

Does anyone in your family do beadwork? Is it something that you grew up around?

Yeah, my mom beads. She doesn’t sell any of her work, which she should. My sister also beads. I grew up beading here and there, but it was never something that I continued. I think out of all my creative outlets, it got the short end.

My mom does some beadwork too, so I know it’s super meticulous. How do you approach style outside of professional spaces, like the red carpet? What are you drawn to?

I feel like my style has been changing a little recently. I like really baggy pants. I haven’t really worn jeans in a while, but I wanted to up my whole closet recently. I’ve been wanting to get more color because I tend to lean on black a lot and earth tones in general. It also depends on what time of year, ’cause sometimes in the summer I like giving off that skateresque vibe.

I like a lot of men’s fashion too. I’ll have long shorts that are past my knees and huge T-shirts on and be like why do I look like a boy? Oh, I’m dressed like this. Doing a lot of this press and having this part of my life really lets me tap into my feminine side.

You grew up in Akwesasne?

Mm-hmm.

When you’re on set and you’re in front of the camera, how do you become this character that you grew up with?

It was honestly really crazy, like that first time we had that transition. Growing up, seeing this character all of the time and idolizing this character almost, and then to have that transformation and look in the mirror and see yourself as that person. It’s like whoa, whoa, whoa. But honestly, Katara and I have a lot of similarities in our personalities. And I feel like it’s kind of a double-edged sword in that it becomes easy to become them. But because there are some similarities, it’s hard to differentiate yourself from the character and keep those things separate.

Were you able to draw on or tie some of your own Mohawk roots? It was great talking to your parents too and hearing about the impact of their own work, your mom’s work in cultural restoration and your dad’s work with your tribe. I’m curious if any of that went into how you shaped this role, especially because Katara is a very Indigenous-coded character.

I think with my Mohawk roots and what my parents have done my whole life, I feel like it has shaped me as a person. With that, I can’t help but take that to every role that I play in the past and in the future, too. So, I feel like my Kanienʼkehá:ka roots will always be there with me in every character that I have the pleasure to portray. I haven’t said this before, but really, I truly do owe everything that I have to my mom and my dad.

What was some of your preparation for this role?

We binged the original show. I think I watched it twice and then went into specific scenes for Katara’s character and her mindset, and then also her bending. Every time we had a fight or we wanted to re-create something from the animated show, we were watching clips of Katara’s bending and that also was really helpful for me.

What’s it like being a young actor now in the age of TikTok and social media?

I think it’s a delicate balance. I feel like in this age, it’s really easy to get caught up in what people are saying, good or bad. Because it’s just so accessible. It’s really important to be able to protect yourself from that. With the show dropping, I will have to find ways to protect myself from the outside and what they are saying, even though I have this sense of wanting to look, wanting to know what the public thinks. That’s how I’ve been this whole time leading up to the show coming out. I want to be and I try to be an open-minded person. So, with what people are saying, I like to look at it just plainly, not trying to hurt my own feelings or anyone’s feelings. I like to have this information and [take] it as a learning type of thing.

With the show dropping and how massive the scale is, there is going to be so many opinions, so many thoughts. So, I feel like it’ll be OK if I just kind of let this one go for a while and revisit when I’m in a more stable place.

I think that’s healthy. On the flip side, for somebody coming up in your generation, specifically somebody Indigenous working in this industry, what’s it like to watch actors like Lily Gladstone or Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs lead the way?

It’s so beautiful. It’s beautiful to see all these amazing strong Indigenous actors. A lot of our stories have been trying to break through for a long time. To now be able to see it in multiple people that come to mind immediately with Reservation Dogs, Killers of the Flower Moon, and Echo, all of these things are so amazing to be able to see in the industry. It’s come so far even from when I was little.

I think one of the main reasons that I was drawn to Avatar: The Last Airbender growing up was being able to have a strong brown role model in Katara. She was one of not many. I think representation, even in that time, was so scarce and rare. So, to be able to carry the torch that’s been passed down for a long time now and be able to light multiple fires and lead the way for the generations coming is so important. I am truly blessed to be alongside all these incredible Indigenous actors leading the way.

Has there been a particular performance by another actor that’s had an effect on you like that? Somebody that you saw growing up, or are even watching right now that’s a model for your career?

The only person that I could think of is Zendaya. I grew up watching her on K.C. Undercover and Shake It Up, when she was just a kid star on Disney. Another thing that is so inspiring to me is her fashion sense. I love how she doesn’t always step out to all these different events. But when she does, everyone knows it and she’s making a statement. It’s just really inspiring to me, her fashion sense and her choices. Also, to have a single name that’s different from what you always hear is also something that we relate to and is inspiring to me.

What is it like having this be something of a new normal for a Native actor where you’re not necessarily just relegated to these roles in westerns? That’s something that people have been dreaming of. It seems like it’s a totally open future now too. What does that feel like?

It feels so surreal. Honestly, sometimes I get the sense of guilt. There are so many people that fight for the same spot. Sometimes, I have to remind myself how hard I’ve worked for things because it sometimes can feel like maybe someone else deserved this. You know that type of feeling?

But I’m lucky enough to have an amazing support group. To be able to be in this position that I’m in now is so incredible. Something that my dad always told me that we’re always where we’re supposed to be. I think that’s something if I had the chance to tell other Indigenous people, or just people in general, especially with actors and acting—you’re always where you’re supposed to be. If you didn’t get this job, it was for this reason. If you feel like you really wanted this thing but it didn’t end up happening, it was because this thing was waiting for you. And I feel like a lot of times, fate works in really funny ways. Of course, I was auditioning for so many things before Avatarhappened. I just can’t imagine if I had landed a different role and then wasn’t able to go out for this. So, it’s so funny how the universe works in crazy ways to make things align perfectly.