#that no amount of rebellion would even make a dent in their power.

[swagging-back-to]

naur seriously can we talk about how allura was even like 'the lions were made to be piloted by you and you alone'referring to the fact they are the only five people in the entire multiverse to have pure quintessence corresponding to the colors oftheir lions....

if one paladin is MIA then that lion should be inactive, benched. you dont simply play musical chairs with the lions. if it waa that easy then ANYONE could be the paladins at ANY time and theres no reason for the human paladins to be there at all especially if they dont want to be. but no the human paladins are NEEDED or else keith and allura would have no problem with pidge leaving in the first two episodes. nor would they mind if lance went home. but they DO mind. they PREVENT pidge from leaving and they make lance believe going back to earth isnt an option at all--that it isnt even on their iternary.

So no. i refuse to acknowledge the lion switching as canon.

[a-written-dream]

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 1,788

Fandom: Merlin (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Future, Gen or Pre-Slash, Rebellion, Arthur Knows About Merlin’s Magic (Merlin), Cybernetics, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Captivity, Identity Reveal, Evil Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, pretty canon-typical though, POV Merlin (Merlin), The Merlin Melee Challenge 2021, Fights, Rebel Leader Arthur

Summary: Because they had been captured and suddenly Arthur was no longer just Arthur, he was Arthur Pendragon, son of everything they fought against.

Or: In a world years into the future, Merlin and Arthur fight against the tyranny of Uther Pendragon with an entire rebellion by their side. But Arthur hasn’t been entirely honest and even locked up in a cell Merlin can’t help the burning feelings of betrayal and anger. - For @merlin-fic-server’s Melee Challenge. Prompts: ‘I wish I’d told you’, punk, coin & Russian Violet

The metal is cold against Merlin’s back and against the skin of his wrists, even though he’s been pressed against it for the better part of an hour. He wonders briefly if it’s on purpose, if they keep the cell so cold to inflict more distress and discomfort. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

A florescent light flickers above their heads, and the only sound in the small space is their breaths bouncing off the walls. There are dents in the door from where Arthur tried to break it down, but even with his strength the door didn’t budge, and with the power-dampening cuffs around Merlin’s wrists, Merlin’s magic is all but useless. Arthur kept trying for a formidable amount of time, but when his hand gave off a sickening crunch of metal, he screamed in frustration and punched the wall for good measure before sinking down onto the floor.

Metal scraps still litter the floor around Arthur’s legs where he’s sitting in the corner now, a long time later, the fight all but drained out of him, head in his hands. The silence is heavy and thick and awkward, tense with Merlin’s anger and confusion, with Arthur’s guilt and anxiety.

“I wish I’d told you-“

Arthur’s voice is quiet and yet it seems to echo and boom within the metal box they’re locked into. It startles Merlin out of the apathetic calm he’d been lulled into by the silence. They’re waiting for their inevitable executions, and yet the sound of Arthur’s voice makes a white hot feeling of betrayal course through him.

“What,” he interrupts, “that you were leading a rebellion against your father? Believe me, Arthur, I wish you had too,” he snaps.

Because they had been captured and suddenly Arthur was no longer just Arthur, he was Arthur Pendragon, son of everything they fought against.

Arthur winces in his corner, running his hands through his hair. “No, I-“

Merlin doesn’t let him finish, too angry to keep the words bubbling to the surface down any longer. “How could you keep this from me? From all of us?” Merlin has been by Arthur’s side for years, fighting with him, protecting him, supporting him, and yet Arthur’s kept something as monumental as this a secret. “How could you not tell me?” Why did you not trust me?

“Why?” Arthur snaps, finally looking up to meet Merlin’s gaze. His blue eyes flash with anger, and Merlin is sure his own dark purple ones are just as angry. In Merlin’s fury, they unhelpfully provide him with the weaknesses in Arthur’s protective plating, with information on just where to send a spark of electricity and magic to shut down Arthur’s entire power system and deal the most damage.

Merlin blinks the detailed blueprints away. He has them memorised, but even betrayed and angry and hurt, he would never do anything to harm Arthur.

“Does it matter?” Arthur continues, voice hard and cold and wounded. “Does it matter that he raised me? That I grew up trying to be loved by a tyrant? That it took me years to finally understand the extent of his atrocities and his crimes? It sure doesn’t make me blind to them, now.” There are tears in his eyes and guilt in his voice. “Sure doesn’t make me blind to the horrific things I’ve done in his name, done to people like-“ you, he doesn’t finish. Like Morgana, like Mordred. To people with the ability to infuse their tech with magic. “I hate him, Merlin, and I hate that I still love him, but nothing, nothing, could ever make me see past the things he’s done, the things he is still doing to his own people, to my people, to our people.” He grits his teeth and clenches his eyes shut, brow furrowed in a painful frown. When he opens his eyes and looks at Merlin again, he looks so very tired.

“I tried to kill him on sight, when I first understood, really understood. I screamed my throat raw as I condemned him from the cell he put me in, and then I decided that I would do everything in my power to make sure his rule comes to an end. I can’t continue to watch people suffer under his hands, no matter how much my wretched heart still aches for his love and approval. I can’t let him continue to slaughter innocent people simply because they exist in a way that doesn’t appease him or because they disagree with him, even if I can never atone for what I’ve done. I will live with the guilt for all my life but I couldn’t, can’t, continue to live without trying to right the things he’s wronged.”

Merlin can’t do anything but stare at him, for a long stretching moment, watching as Arthur holds his gaze and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. This, this is why they follow Arthur, why the whole rebellion would be willing to lay down their lives for him, because Arthur is a man who hurts with injustices he’s grown up never knowing but has intimate knowledge of, because he sees wrong and does anything he can to make it right, because he’s willing to go against everything he’s been taught to believe and everyone he’s been taught to love to save people he’s never met. Because he’s willing to kill his own father if it means the rest of the world gets to go on living.

“You should have still told me,” Merlin says quietly, his chest aching at the pain in Arthur’s eyes.

Arthur averts his gaze, clenching his hands into fists in front of him. The sound of metal grinding against metal fills their cell.

“I didn’t want you to see me any differently,” he admits quietly.

Merlin’s heart throbs with hurt. Does he not realise Merlin could never? Does he not know the world could turn and end and he would never see Arthur like anything other than the best, the most important person he knows?

“Arthur,” he says softly. He doesn’t continue until Arthur lifts his gaze to look at him. “When I look at you, I see a man who is honourable, compassionate, and kind. I see a man who would do anything to change the world for the better – even go against the father who raised him. I see my best friend,” Merlin watches Arthur grit his teeth and blink the wetness from his eyes, “and I couldn’t see you any differently even if I tried.”

Arthur gives him a hesitant, forced half-smile, hands relaxing against his bent knees.

“I’m hurt you didn’t trust me enough to tell me,” Merlin admits, and Arthur glances away, shame pinching his brows together. “But I’m not angry at you for being someone’s son.”

When Arthur looks back at him, Merlin smiles. “We cannot help who we are born as, only who we choose to become, and every day I have known you, Arthur, you have chosen a path that is good and just and right, that goes against everything you’ve been born into and raised to believe, to be someone who is kind and fair and understanding. And that makes you the greatest man I’ve ever known.”

Arthur’s eyes are brimming, but he’ll never let the tears fall. He never does. There’s a smile on his lips though, and this time it’s soft and small and real.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says quietly.

Merlin smiles at him again, and he hopes it’s reassuring and forgiving. “The rebellion would do well to know.”

Arthur shakes his head. “They wouldn’t follow me if they did,” he says, as if he truly believes they wouldn’t, as if he doesn’t understand all the reasons each of them have to stand by his side.

“They would,” Merlin tells him, certain and sure. “Sure, there might be backlash from some, but most of them have followed you for long enough to know that it doesn’t matter. They trust you with their lives, Arthur, with the future. Not because of where you come from, but because of who you are. You have proven time and time again that you are willing to lay down your life for the cause just the same as the others, that you will sacrifice everything you have to give for a better world if you must, that you will not hesitate to go through hell to get us there. They don’t doubt your loyalty to them or to the world we’re trying to create, and it won’t change with this truth. They follow you because you are a thoughtful and caring leader, no matter the circumstances of your birth; the only thing that binds you to Uther is your blood and your name. They know that, just as well as I do,” he says. He’s grinning now, the edges of anger only a drop left simmering in his stomach. “You are the rightful heir to the throne, but more importantly, you are their chosen leader, and they will follow you because they choose to do so. Trust them like they trust you.” Merlin holds Arthur’s gaze with steady eyes, and he wonders if the fire he feels in his chest is as clear to Arthur as it is to Merlin. “It matters where you come from only because the world deserves to know that even the son of Uther Pendragon will not tolerate his tyranny or bow beneath him.”

Arthur swallows again. “I don’t know if I can do it.” He looks at Merlin, conflicted and uncertain and scared. But Merlin can see that he’s made up his mind, probably long before Merlin told him to. Perhaps he just isn’t ready to face it alone.

“I’ll be there every step of the way.”

Arthur’s smile is tentative and grateful.

“Thank you, Merlin.”

There’s a beat of silence where all they do is smile at each other, and then Arthur closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, flexing his broken fingers. When he opens his eyes again, the fight and the purpose that had first pulled Merlin in shines with the brightness of a hundred suns and Merlin grins so widely his cheeks hurt.

“So, how do we get out of here?”

Metal scraping against metal catches their attention as something slides underneath the door. The brass object on the floor is flat, thin, and round and they both look down at the coin, hundreds of years old and completely useless in a world where physical currency hasn’t existed for well over a century. They only know one person who still carries those around.

They turn to grin at each other.

“Gwaine.”

[always-and-forever-a-killjoy]

Coming Home Chapter 2

Hello fuckers I know I promised this chapter yesterday but then I fell asleep because I was incredibly exhausted. So I'm posting it today because I deserve it Also, the song for the last chapter was Revolution Radio by Green Day, which no one guessed! I'll give you a hint for this chapter- it's very far off from Green Day or My Chemical Romance.

Title: Coming, Coming Home

Chapter Title: Cause I’m with you this time

Chapter Wordcount: 3333

Chapter Summary:

Cherri Cola settles into living with Dr. Death Defying and White Lily, figures out that someone actually cares about him, and makes some reckless decisions.

Warnings: implied/referenced past abuse, referenced past misgendering, light panic/anxiety attack, non-graphic/canon-typical violence and injury, uhhh i *think* that's it? (If you want to know what parts to skip, go to the end notes on AO3- I also put a brief summary of any important info in those parts. Stay safe!)

Taglist: @wishiwasthemoon-tonight @sleevesareforlosers @stressed-depressed-emo-mess @tasteofamnesia @dagger-queen​ @no-braincells-here @piratecherricola (message me, send an ask, or reblog/reply to one of my posts if you want to be added or removed)

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 AO3 Link

Chapter 1 Tumblr Post

(Actual fic under the cut)

It took a few months for Cherri to really settle in to living with the other two. He was younger than them, and lacked the shared experience of fighting in the Helium Wars. But all three of them had the shared understanding of having grown up too fast, the pain and weariness in the other’s eyes mirroring his exactly. Not to mention that running a pirate radio station and attempting to spark a rebellion did tend to bond people. Having each others’ backs in firefights, fixing the radio equipment together, and eating their meals as a group only aided that process.

So 109 WKIL slowly got off the ground, heading into the sky just as promised. Their transmitter was fairly decent, and so their range was large even if few listeners were tuning in right now. But the rebellion grew daily, neutrals and Battery City folk abandoning a more peaceful life under the hand of Better Living Industries for the wild world of a killjoy. White Lily spoke over the radio at least weekly, encouraging them to fight, to not let themselves be squashed under bli’s heel. 

“Power is not given, but taken. If you hate oppression, you better be ready to fight against the oppressor and give it everything you’ve got.” 

Cherri was sitting in his usual spot under the broadcast desk, making sure that all the equipment was running smoothly as White Lily spoke above him. Her voice didn’t have the deep, gravelly weight of D’s, but the fire in it was inspiring. There had always been something about White Lily that made people want to follow her, D had told him. Some spark in her spirit that kindled fires in others, bringing them together under her leadership. 

“Better Living may have bombs, and gas, and more ray guns than we can dream of getting our grubby little killjoy paws on. But we have something they can never replace: spirit. You can’t make a fiery heart with pills and white walls. They can take our bodies, shoot us full of plasma and throw us to the wolves. But they can never touch our spirit. Never. We will rise again, as many times as they try to throw us down.

"The spirit of the desert is something they can’t kill with any amount of laser beams. Any size of bomb, any number of exterminators. None of it will squash our spirit, and that’s what makes us invincible. As long as a single killjoy rises to fight, Better Living Industries cannot win. So get out there, crash queens! Get your vehicles, motorbabies. Angel kissers, grab your med kits, and kerosene saints, your matches. We’ve got a corporation to overthrow, and we’re not stopping at just nipping at their heels. Killjoys, it’s time to make some noise!”

She clicked off the radio. “How was that?”

“Good,” Cherri told her. “Inspiring. Makes you want to fistfight an exterminator.” 

“Oh good, that’s what I was hoping for.” Lily paused. “No fistfighting exterminators though, that’s a bad idea.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Oh yes I can,” Lily laughed. She was still grinning as she reached to help Cherri out from under the desk, a grin both achingly close and achingly far to one he remembered. There were days when she looked so much like his sister it hurt, not in her features but in the way she laughed and her teasing grin as she and D bantered back and forth. 

Cherri tried not to think about it as he pulled himself to his feet. “And how do you plan on stopping me?”

“Hmm…I think I shall tackle you.”

“Then what?”

“Make D lecture you nonstop until you fall asleep.”

Cherri laughed as they headed back into the house. "Good luck with that."

So far, they hadn’t had to move the van from its position in front of their home in Zone Four, but all of them knew it was only a matter of time before bli would be breathing down their necks.

“We have some time,” D said that evening. “Our signal will be hard to track, and we don’t have a wide enough reach to be a threat to Better Living Industries yet.”

“We’re getting there, though,” Lily commented, digging around for the last bit of power pup in her can. 

“True, we’ve got a lot more listeners now than we did before.” Cherri was already finished with his, playing with his dented spoon and reflecting the sunlight across the room idly. “It’s going to be hard to stay hidden for long, not when the other killjoys whisper about our station and spread the word between themselves.”

“The more people who know, the easier it is for Better Living to find us,” D agreed. “Of course, we need people to know so they’ll tune in, but we’ll have to be careful as we get larger.”

“Careful, careful, you’re always careful.” Lily leaned back in her chair, setting down her spoon. “I’m not saying we abandon all caution, but there’s going to be risks running a rebellion. A lot of the time, we’ll just have to decide if they’re worth taking.”

Cherri nodded, still examining the spoon. “And a lot of the time they will be.”

“Didn’t know you were such a daredevil, Cher.” He made to glare at Lily, but she went on. “You’re right though. Everything’s a risk, and we’re going to have to take a lot of them.”

“I don’t like that,” D put in.

“None of us do, except maybe Cherri the daredevil over here. But we’re doing it.”

“We’re doing it,” D agreed tiredly. 

“I’m not a fucking daredevil,” Cherri muttered. That was….mostly true. Risk for the sake of risk wasn’t exactly his thing, but risk for any other sake was. As long as only his life was at risk, it was a risk worth taking. He figured, at least.

“You’re pretty fucking daring, Cher.”

“Only risks that are worth it, though.” He pretended not to see the two older ‘joys exchange glances. 

-

True to their predictions, the rebellion grew. Their radio was a contributing factor, Cherri hoped. It certainly seemed to have grown in popularity as more killjoys entered the desert and more neutrals lay down their peaceful ways and took up arms alongside the killjoys. WKIL was something whispered about in killjoy circles, told to the newbies, the undergrads of the desert.

Cherri knew because he was the one who went and talked with them, the lesser-known face. Everyone recognized at very least the voices of D and Lily by now, the two radio speakers who rallied the rebels, but Cherri Cola was not a name whispered in legend yet. He was just a sixteen year old with a shitty ray gun and a bad haircut, which had advantages and disadvantages. 

One of the advantages was the ability to go talk to random people and be seen as relatively harmless, just a teen with a bright pink mask. There was nothing about him to suggest that he was an incredible shot with a ray gun or a dangerous fighter, not in the slightest. He wore oversized clothes and perpetually looked disheveled, so he had been told. And if you didn’t look too closely at his eyes, you wouldn’t even see the fire in them. 

So Cherri used that hidden advantage, appearing perfectly harmless to anyone who didn’t know him well. It was helpful for White Lily and Dr. Death Defying, since neither of them could go anywhere where there were a lot of rebels without being recognized.

And the rebellion grew and grew. Their voices were growing louder, their colors brighter even as Better Living Industries tried to squash them down. The spirit of the desert truly was rising, and a faint sense of hope had started to permeate the air. White Lily never promised that they would win. But she promised that Better Living Industries wouldn’t, so long as a single killjoy stood, and that was enough for most of the desert. 

They were teenagers, mainly. The bulk of the force that was forming the current rebellion was either teenagers, running from their pasts in Battery City, or twenty-something former soldiers of the Helium Wars, running from what they had done or trying to put it right. They were young and invincible, so it seemed. The reality that they could easily die doing this hadn’t sunk in for most of the younger population of the desert, intoxicated on freedom and the thrill of the desert.

D and Lily knew that reality all too well, Cherri knew. He knew they knew what all of them were up against, had watched death in their own right in the Helium Wars, had wrought it with their own hands. 

He knew what the consequences were too, a memory of bli employees in clean white suits coming to respectfully ‘recruit’ the person he loved most hovering behind a door in his mind. That door would remain closed, Cherri had decided. The past was the past- but he fought because of it anyways, knowing the horrors Better Living Industries had done.

Cherri might have been young, but he was no fool. He knew quite well that he could die, and he couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck, as Lily would put it. There were things more important than living to some grand old age, and this rebellion was one of them.

He would be lying to himself if he said that some part of him wasn’t in this for revenge, maybe a larger part than he was willing to admit. 

“If you take away someone’s world, they might just burn yours down,” Cherri muttered to himself, aiming his shitty old ray gun at the empty cans Lily had set up that day. Despite how long he had already been out here, they still hadn’t managed to locate him a better weapon. That was fine, he thought, he was deadly enough even without one, but D and Lily both insisted that it would be a lot easier for him with something that wasn’t outdated by at least three years. 

“What?” Cherri jumped as D came to stand next to him, aiming his own black and blue ray gun at the cans. “Did you say something, Cherri?”

“Oh, uh. Nothing.”

D shrugged, tilting his head to take aim. “You don’t have to tell me, I just figured I’d ask in case you were trying to tell me something.”

Cherri lowered his ray gun, glancing down. “I said if you take away someone’s world, they might just burn yours down.”

“Ah. True, and insightful.” Cherri didn’t have to glance over at D to know his face would be gently concerned. “Somewhat dark though, you could say.”

“Guess so.”

They were silent for a moment, apart from the zap of ray guns.

“Pasts are something to be forgotten here,” D said finally. “But if you need someone to talk to about yours, Lily and I will support you.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it, you know.”

Cherri fiddled with his ray gun. “Yeah.”

“Just putting that out there.” D turned back to their target practice.

- 

Despite D’s words, there was a silent agreement amongst the three of them that pasts were not to be spoken of or asked about. Occasionally, D or Lily would tell a few stories, mainly from their childhood. They rarely talked about the Helium Wars, only occasionally with each other. And Cherri said nothing about his past. Instead, he pretended not to notice the days when the other two flinched at any loud sound, and they pretended not to hear him cry out in the night, when everything was silent and there was no buffer against the memories. It was a courtesy more than anything, a way to keep each other from having to speak about their darkest times. Usually, Cherri appreciated that, finding it easier to deal with any hurt alone than worry about burdening the others.

Tonight, however, was different. No matter how much he tried to calm himself down, his breath kept coming too quickly and he couldn’t drown out the voices of his past. Worthless, never going to amount to anything…should be more like Samantha…your grades are slipping again…never going to be a boy…

Cherri shivered violently, even though the blanket was tucked safely over him, and climbed off the window seat he had been using as a sort of bed, picking up said blanket. It was cold in the desert at night, no use leaving it behind. 

It took him more rests of leaning against the wall and trying frantically to draw a single breath than he wanted to admit before he was down the hall to the room D and Lily had claimed. Their door was cracked open, but Cherri pushed it open a little bit further to see both of them seemingly sleeping peacefully as he stood in the doorway.

“Cher?” That was White Lily, lifting her head a bit from the mattress. “Everything okay?”

He managed to shake his head, and she gestured for him to come sit. 

“What’s going on, friendo?”

“Bad dream,” Cherri whispered.

“Ah. Those are no fun. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Lily nodded as if to say that didn’t surprise her, and she looked dreadfully like someone he used to know in that moment. “Come on then, lay on down. D won’t mind if you elbow him, he gets up at ass o’clock in the morning anyways.”

Cherri was quite certain D would, in fact, mind, but he did as she asked anyways, settling down on the creaky mattress. Lily put her arm out in what was clearly an offer, but didn’t touch him until he rolled over towards her. When he did, she wrapped her arm around him fully, pulling him closer, and Cherri felt like he could breathe for the first time since waking up. 

Lily didn’t say ‘I love you’ or anything of the sort, but she did ruffle his hair and give him a quiet “Goodnight, Cher.”

And Cherri didn’t say ‘I love you’ either, but he leaned into her embrace. “Goodnight, Lily.”

-

True to Lily’s words, it was, in fact, what Cherri would qualify as ‘ass o’clock in the morning’ when D woke up and proceeded to wake the other two up while getting out of bed.

“Is it even light out?” Cherri questioned as Lily gave a massive yawn.

“No, which is why D’s being an asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up, Lil. Or you, Cherri.” He didn’t question why Cherri was there, much to Cherri’s relief.

“You did anyways,” Lily grumbled, but she released Cherri and sat up. “I guess it would be time to get up soon anyways.”

“Exactly,” D huffed.

Lily just yawn-laughed as she got up, and Cherri reluctantly followed the others downstairs. They had quick breakfast in the predawn light, followed by a bit of fussing around as they got ready for D’s morning broadcast, organizing all the news and things that had come in yesterday. Killjoys had started to send them news of the desert, to the point where they got almost as much from what people sent in/dropped off/radioed to them as what Cherri found out on his almost daily runs. It was starting to pass what he could find out on daily runs, really. But he went anyways because they still needed his info, and they needed to eat.

“Bye, Lily, D!” 

“See you, Cherri,” Lily hollered back. “Be careful!”

“I will!”

The three of them split the tasks that living in the desert and running a radio station required. Today, D and Lily were taking the radio station van to drive around and talk to people, encourage them to join the cause. Cherri was taking the motorcycle to get any news and see if he couldn’t grab some power pup from a supply truck.

He sped down the road, getting in position to raid the supply truck. A one-killjoy raid was a dumb idea, for sure, but Better Living Industries hadn’t started to arm their trucks very heavily yet, and Cherri was confident enough in his ability to think he could pull it off. This was a small one, anyways. The initial raid went off without a hitch- the driver and few accompanying dracs were dead before they had time to see the teenage killjoy who hurried down from the dune to pull out as much of the contents of the truck as would fit in the sidecar of the motorbike. It was afterwards that became the problem, as a full two cars of bli employees came rushing towards the site.

“Fuck,” Cherri hissed under his breath. He quickly assessed his odds. One teenager with a shitty ray gun and a motorcycle against what must be at least one scarecrow and probably at least eight dracs was not good odds, but he doubted running away would be any better. They would chase him down, and then he wouldn’t even have the advantage of his higher vantage point. Hiding wasn’t an option either, given that dracs would search the entire area, so Cherri crouched behind the motorcycle and got ready to fire.

When the first person hopped out of the car, Cherri almost swore out loud. Not a scarecrow. An exterminator. He was so fucked. 

Cherri’s hands shook slightly as he lifted the ray gun and aimed. He had to take down that exterminator as soon as possible, or he was dead. The shakiness proved his undoing, as the shot whistled past the exterminator, missing by barely half an inch and causing the Better Living operative to turn.

Fuck it. Cherri got out from behind the motorcycle and ran directly towards them, firing off shots indiscriminately. His best shot now was to overwhelm and confuse them. It seemed to be working, given that one thing they did not expect was a teenager in a bright pink mask to come running directly at them. In fact, most of the dracs froze, enough that he was able to get in a few good shots before they realized what was happening. One shot even hit the exterminator in the shoulder, but unfortunately not their shooting arm, leaving them perfectly capable of raising their gun to retaliate. 

Retaliate they did, and Cherri screamed as a shot hit him in the side. “Fuck! Fuck you!” He was shaking too hard to shoot back as the exterminator held up a hand, quite calmly.

All the dracs stopped, and the exterminator strolled casually towards Cherri. “Greetings, rebel.”

Cherri spit at their feet. 

“Rather rude of you, wasn’t that? I’m tempted to kill you here, you ill-mannered rebel scum.” They reached out and tilted Cherri’s chin up to look them in the eye, letting him see the cold fire that lingered there. 

“Get fucked,” Cherri spat out as they took his ray gun from a shaking hand and tossed it over their shoulder. 

“I do appreciate the suggestion, but I suggest you keep your mouth shut if you want to live.”

Their ray gun was positioned at his neck, and Cherri knew he had a low chance of surviving even a stun shot to that spot at such a close distance.

“I would kill you now, ill-mannered rebel, but I think I’ll let you live for one reason and one reason only- I want you to go to that ‘Doctor D’ and his friend White Lily, and tell them they will not win. We will find the radio station you killjoys speak of, we know your precious leader is hiding out in Zone Four. So go, tell them. And pray you survive that shot.”

They shoved Cherri, and he stumbled away, ignoring the pain in his side as he climbed onto the motorcycle. He revved the engine, throwing it into action and barely caring if some of the supplies fell out of the sidecar. 

The exterminator watched him go with a cruel smile.

[smile-dat-spreads-like-buttah-a]

The speed at which rumors traveled in the Refuge was always unexpected. One would think with how tightly Snyder held the whole place and operation that he must surely have control over the spread of information, and of all things especially information like this.

This information, even if it were only just a rumor and nothing more, could easily cause a whole bunch of trouble for the warden... especially if it got to the kids who have been locked up long enough to remember.

Jack Kelly’s sister was brought in after having been caught at the strike and she was on Snyder's watchlist just as much as her brother had ever been.

Snyder was scared.

Well, not scared necessarily but definitely nervous.

He didn't want a repeat of the Breakfast Revolt. Sure, he’d had broken it up and the leaders (namely Kelly) painfully and publicly punished, but overall, the events reminded the children that they really did have at least some power some ability to stand up and fight back.

And this girl she reminded them of that power.

She hadn't even really met any of the other prisoners as Snyder dragged her out of the girls dorm only the first or second night she was there because rumors were already flying and the other kids were getting antsy.

The way the girls were mostly separated from the boys made it harder for the truth of the matter to get around, but eventually at a meal, one of the more “dangerous” boy prisoners managed to pull one of the girls off to the side and ask, and the answer pleased him. It was all true.

Or not entirely. She wasn't here to follow in Jack's footsteps. She had heard horror stories nightmares about this place, and found them all to be true and was utterly terrified and honestly, she was closer to to her breaking point then she able to admit without shame,  and every visit from Snyder to her cold little cell in the solitary wing brought her even closer to giving in.

She didn't know anything about the tension eating through the prison because of her presence. Everything she knew came from Snyder himself or one of the girls rebelling and dropping a morsel of a listed food through the slot in her cell door.

So when she was roughly and violently dragged from her cell in shackles she had no idea what was going on.

And as she was brought towards the room where everyone would gather to eat their maggot written food in an in an amount that was never even near enough she became almost impossibly more confused and her stomach betrayed her as it growled at the smell of the rancid food. Oh, right… She hadn’t eaten since the day of the strike.

As she was brought into the room, the quiet chaos became somehow quieter as all eyes turned to stare at her, whispers breaking out across the room to be almost immediately silenced by shouts and threats from the ever-present guards. But there was still the air of chaos, of disbelief... of disappointment…

“That's it? That's her?”

The hearts of all the children in the room collectively dropped. This is no Jack Kelly.

Snyder stepped into the room from a side door with a smile. He had promised his charges their new dream hero, and he had promised them that they would be disappointed because she wasn't who they were thinking... hoping... wanting to believe she was. He felt the disappointment fill the room and felt victory well up inside him. The girl blushed, embarrassed by all the attention; the warden gave a half of laughter. A secondary victory. Two birds with one stone.

The guards let go of her dropping her at Snyder's feet, looking up at him with tired but terrified eyes.

“Stand up.” The order was quiet enough that only the girl could hear it, and somehow, it made her face go a shade or two paler than it had been when she was brought it.

“I can’t…” She whispered back, still not sure what was going on, but having a feeling that it was not going to end happily.

“I said, stand up!” This time, the order came as a roar, punctuated by loud, tearful sounding wail of pain from the girl as the warden reached down and dragged her to her feet, her bad leg twisting horribly under her weight. For a moment, it looked like the pain might do her in, make her pass out, but Snyder didn’t care. He held her there, as she dry sobbed.

She tried to look away, to not look at the other kids, who all seemed to fall somewhere between horror and disappointment and almost morbid curiosity, but Snyder barked another order, for her to look up at the others, accompanied by a quick sharp dip that put more pressure on her leg, causing her again to cry out loudly in pain. Snyder revelled in the sound, and watching as some of the children in his “audience” flinched before him.

“For some reason, you all let this girl bring you hope, hope that you could recreate her brother’s chaos and rebellion, and that she could lead you to freedom, or if she could not lead you, that you could fight in her name like some of you once fought in Francis Sullivan’s name… but this is no leader, this is nothing to rally behind… So what would be the point?” The warden’s attention was focused on his audience, not the girl he was purposefully humiliating. There were some whispers through the crowd of children, but they were quickly silenced. “I know you all believed in the boy once, but so did she… and look where it got her.”

Crutchie muffled a sob, and tried to look away again, but quickly turned her head back forward as she somehow finally managed to find tears to cry. They slid down her cheeks, turning rusty brown as they washed dried blood and dirt away, but made no real dent in the condition of the girl’s face.

“And I suppose that you have all heard about the doomed newsboy strike…” Snyder paused for a moment, listening for whispers of agreement from the others. When none came, however, he simply continued. “That is how our new friend came to be here, and I think there's a lesson to be learned from this… a lesson for everyone…. Or perhaps just a lesson for our new little rebel, and a reminder to the rest of you of what happens to people who fight back here.”

Whispers went through the crowd of kids, and Charlie looked around, thoroughly not understanding. But in a moment, Snyder turned from the crowd of kids, pulling her along, and for the first time, she noticed the handcuffs attached to the wall. “Wh-what?” She struggled, trying to get away, but Snyder's grip on her was firm. “Hey, wait a second, I didn’ do nothin’!”

Snyder didn't look down at her, instead taking her straight to the wall and snapping the cuffs around her wrists. When he backed away, she collapsed, hanging from her wrists as her bad leg dropped out from beneath her. She whimpered at the pressure on her wrists and tried to get her good leg underneath her to give her some manner of support, but lost her footing as the first lash landed on her back, cutting through her shirt and deep into her skin. She didn't want to give Snyder the satisfaction, but a scream tore itself from her throat before she could stop it. God, it hurt… She whimpered, almost begging him to stop, but he didn't… He wouldn’t. She screamed and cried out until her throat felt raw, and even in the raw sharpness of the moment, she couldn't hear a sound coming from the kids behind her. She'd heard enough about the Breakfast Revolt to know about how the kids had sang with Jack, getting back at Snyder in their own way… but nobody sang with her. Everyone was silent, except for a little kid's occasional whimper. She was all by herself, sobbing breathlessly, hanging from her wrists, and being beaten until she could no longer even keep her head up, instead dazedly resting her head against the wall. Blood soaked the back of her now torn undershirt, and her back felt like it had been ripped to shreds. When Snyder finished, he had the guards free her wrists, leaving her to collapse into a puddle of her own blood. She was too dazed to know who came and lifted her up into their arms and carried her to the infirmary.

She was no Jack Kelly. Jack Kelly, she thought, could make it on his own... But she weren't no Jack Kelly, and she was very much on her own.

----

Based on @jackcowboyhero 's Breakfast Revolt

[crystalelemental]

FE Fates Replay - Part 5

I was having such a good time.  And then...

Chapter 9 starts out with Corrin returning successful from her mission to suppress the Ice Tribe’s rebellion.  Even Garon is impressed, and makes some hesitant comments about being proud of her.  Honestly, this is the Garon I want.  The one that’s slightly unhinged, but generally does care about the well-being of his children.  You know.  The one with any level of complexity at all.  For a moment all is well, until Iago decides to be the way that he is and announces that Corrin didn’t do it alone as commanded.  Xander’s response here is kinda funny.  “That’s really shitty, Iago, even for your slimy ass.”  Or something to that effect.  Anyway, Garon’s slightly miffed, but let’s it go because damn, she did a real good job on suppressing the rebellion without taking lives.  Again, the Garon with some level of complexity.  Instead of just murder man, he commends her specifically for not taking life in the suppression, which would be cool if that mentality of “not taking life in the conflict is a good thing.”  Shame about the way this game handles villains.

You’re immediately given another assignment: go to...uh...shit.  I can’t remember how to spell the place.  Basically, he wants you to go capture a territory.  Chapter 9 involves going through a fortress that’s the remains of a dragon, which is held by the Hoshidans.  This is a fairly fun chapter.  Not too difficult.  Mostly Effie and Silas carry the day.  You also recruit Azura and Nyx, making this the best recruitment chapter so far!  I really like both of them.  It’s a shame that Nyx is at level 9 when you get her.  Her stats are, uh...pretty terrible.  Okay, really terrible.  Skill, Luck, and Defense are all abysmal, with Magic and Speed being her only worthwhile stats.  They wouldn’t be as bad if she showed up a few levels lower, but at level 9, a lot of her stat spread is unsalvageable without stat boosting items.  Which means if you’re gonna use her, you have to invest.  And I absolutely intend to use her.

The map is your standard Seize map, after clearing everyone out, so not much to report on in terms of combat.  After the fight, Azura explains that she’s stuck here because the Hoshidans, wary after Corrin’s decision, turned on her too and had her locked up here.  So I guess that proves I made the right call.  So much for family, am I right?  Fuck Hoshido.  Azura instantly joins up with you, since she’s got nowhere else to go.  As for Nyx, just to give a bit of info on her, she’s apparently a really old magic user who, for reasons unknown, is in the body of a child.  Honestly, if it weren’t for her outfit, she’d be perfect.  She’s sassy and fun, and admittedly I like her hair.

Chapter 10 has the group arrive in some port town looking for passage to this territory they’re to take.  At first, it’s assumed this port will be safe, but unfortunately for them, it’s now crawling with Hoshidans.  Fortunately for me, Takumi is leading the charge, meaning it’s finally time to kick his ass.  He goes on about Corrin being a traitor and all that, but what’s interesting is he mentions that some Hoshidans took Azura away, and that Ryoma was worried about her.  He wasn’t, obviously, but what’s neat to me is that the eneimes from last chapter were apparently in active defiance of Ryoma, who is essentially their king now that the old queen is dead.  At the very least, the Hoshidans are very disorganized.  So that’s funny.  Good job, idiots.

Honestly?  This is my favorite chapter so far.  I mentioned last time, I think, but while the developers of this game were insistent that Awakening’s weak point was its story (don’t ask how one can be so out of touch, I don’t know either), its actual weak point is mostly its maps.  It’s been a while since I’ve fully played Awakening, but I remember about 90% of it being “route the enemy,” with very little else aside from standard Seize and Defeat the Boss.  There aren’t too many weird conditions or gimmicks.  Fates, at least on the Conquest route, has given some more interesting stuff.  This one in particular is really fun.  You’re defending the territory, so you have four squares at the far north of the map, where your units start, that the enemy can’t reach.  If they do, you lose.  To help out, you get a bunch of ranged weapons near your position to help weaken, but not KO, foes.  There are also a lot of homes around the area that you can access to get some items.  Naturally, as with any defending map, there are tons of reinforcements.  What really makes the map interesting to me is that, so far, we’ve been using a lot of Dragon Veins.  Allegedly.  I don’t use them that often.  They’re not always as helpful as they think.  But in this map, Takumi activates one, and dries up all the water, allowing the enemies to traverse around the paths you’ve been defending.  It’s incredibly frustrating, but a neat surprise that the map pulls to make your attempts at defense even harder.  I know for me, I had spread out my units by this point.  We’d managed to put a dent in their forces and were alerting the houses and trying to push south.  But as soon as that happened, a bunch of reinforcements came in.  The only one who could continue to move forward was Dragon Corrin.  Everyone else had to start back-tracking to defend.

Chapter 10 also introduces three new units to our party.  In order of least to greatest importance, we first have Beruka, one of Camilla’s retainers.  She’s quiet and doesn’t talk much, but honestly was pretty funny in her debut.  Selena, or Severa for those of us who played Awakening, is the same as she ever was, so you kind of expect her to tease Corrin about being heartless for not remembering them, but Beruka joining in was pretty good.  Speaking of, Selena’s the other character who joins, and just like as Severa, she’s a lot of fun.  She’s a bit more mellow here, if only slightly.  A little more in tune with herself, perhaps?  Then we have Camilla.  She arrives, and is surprisingly intense about murdering dudes.  Almost a bit Faye-like, only instead of the love of Alm, it’s for the love of her sister.  It’s a bit disconcerting, frankly.  I go back and forth on really liking Camilla and really disliking her.  They just go a bit too heavy on some of her more intense traits, you know?

The map is pretty tough, but Corrin and Azura wound up kicking Takumi’s ass no sweat.  In fact, I first had Corrin do it, and then with save states thanks to Casual, went back and had Azura finish him instead.  Both of their dialogue reveals about what you’d expect.  Takumi’s just a butthurt baby.  After you win, he whines about Corrin’s betrayal again, and then gets a migraine or something and fucks off.  This is one of those “Camilla is great” moments, because as Takumi is throwing insults as Corrin, Camilla just goes “What a rude boy.  Perhaps I should beat some manners into him...”  Corrin stops her and says no violence, but we really should’ve allowed it.  Takumi mentions the Rainbow Sage, which is apparently our objective that I don’t think anyone has mentioned until now.  He says Ryoma got the blessing so it’s all over for you fuckers now.  Camilla lets us know that it’s fine, Xander also got the blessing ages ago, so the Hoshidans are really just one step behind.  Though depending on time frame of Xander getting this blessing, this would mean that Ryoma could potentially be considered stronger, based on them being “even” in Chapter 6.  Though in fairness, my run involved Xander immediately getting a crit and taking Ryoma out in one shot.  So that was fucking hilarious.

Chapter 11, we finally arrive in this territory.  We meet a nice lady who tells us about the dangers of the mountain the sage lives on, and that he’s been taken captive by the Hoshidans.  Corrin naturally hurries to his rescue, and the fight is on!  This time, it’s against Hinoka.  The map itself is alright?  It kinda forces you to take two separate paths and gets a little cluttered, but not too bad.  Azama is, without question the worst part of this map.  Staves don’t count as a weapon, so his special ability means you continuously take counter damage equal to what you deal to him, and he has some bullshit Hexlock Staff that cuts the HP of anyone hit by it to half for the remainder of the map.  It’s such garbage.  Thankfully, Jakob is very fast, so haha, idiot.  I did get special dialogue with Hinoka, though.  Camilla is just...so incredibly petty here.  “She’s my sister now, you lose, bitch.”  The amount of pettiness on display is unreal.  Corrin, by comparison, actually has a pretty touching conversation.  Hinoka seems to understand Corrin’s resolve, and doesn’t really pressure her the way the others did.  She’s not happy with Corrin’s decision at all, but ultimately accepts Corrin’s decision and lives with it.  This automatically makes Hinoka the best Hoshidan sibling in my book.  I don’t regret siding against the others, but I do regret siding against her.

After the battle, Hinoka recognizes they need to retreat, and makes a comment about gathering their dead later.  She is then informed that there are no dead, only wounded.  Corrin gave the command to not kill anyone in this fight, and announces that she wants to end the war peacefully, without bloodshed if possible.  Hinoka is taken aback, but flees quickly after.  Kaze, however, remains behind to speak with Corrin.  He’s impressed by her devotion to peace, and pledges loyalty to her.  Another new ally!  And a ninja at that!

We meet the Rainbow Sage, who activates something with Yato.  He tells us to seek out the Nohrians who will activate the blade’s true power and awaken it as Grim Yato, the ultimate blade of darkness or whatever!  Given that we already have two Nohrian siblings, I wonder who the two we need could be.  Honestly, I’ve been holding on to this complaint, but now’s a good time: it’s bullshit that the female siblings don’t get unique weapons.  Xander and Leo get unique, powerful weapons, as do Ryoma and Takumi.  But the sisters?  They have to make do with generic weapons.  That’s such utter horseshit, and frankly, kinda sexist.

Immediately after this, Iago shows up and again, decides to be the way he is.  Garon gave a command to kill the sage.  Corrin outright refuses, stating the obvious: Ryoma already got the power, we’re not preventing anyone important from getting it because everyone already has said blessing, you’re doing this for nothing.  The Rainbow Sage thanks Corrin for wanting to spare his life, but proclaims it was time for him to die anyway and just dies out on the spot.  So I guess Mission Successful?  Weird.

I was gonna cut here, as the natural end to a particular thread of the game, but I’m kinda having fun, so let’s keep going.  Chapter 12!  Elise takes ill from a weird virus thing in that territory, and we need to find help!  Garon gives another command, specifically, to go to this one place for rest and relaxation.  Oddly kind.  It also turns out this place is the medical hub of the world, so suspiciously fortuitous.  They group hurries there and fucking surprise, there are Hoshidans everywhere.  Led by Ryoma.  Amazing.  Corrin begs him to let her pass, telling him about Elise���s condition.  He offers the trade: Corrin comes with him, and they’ll let her pass without a fight.  Corrin, of course, refuses.  As she should.  Listen, I get that it’s war, but by now they know what Corrin’s about.  She’s aimed to prevent the death of their soldiers in every battle.  They know she’s shown mercy where protecting life is concerned.  So what does Ryoma do?  Insist on fighting, potentially allowing Elise to die.  Bastard.

Thankfully we get reinforcements in the nick of time, in the form of-oh fuck me.  Laslow, listen.  You’re cool.  I’m glad you’re here.  I liked Inigo too.  But Peri.  Motherfucking Peri.  She is the worst character in the entire series for me.  There’s no question.  Not even a close second.  Even Tharja doesn’t come close, because some of Tharja’s supports were at least endearing in some way.  Peri is just a little sociopath who can’t shut the fuck up about murder.  Xander, where the fuck did you find her, and why is she not in jail?  I honestly feel it’s hypocritical to complain about Hans when you hired Peri on purpose, you asshat.  Honestly, for your belief in doing right by people and wanting to protect others, I cannot believe you thought putting Peri in charge of anything was a good call.  This is actively a blemish on your record.

Fuck, I can’t do this now.  I can’t deal with Peri.  We were having such a good day, then this little freak-ass gremlin shows up and prattles on about stabface of whatever the fuck, and now I’m just angry.  I’ll deal with her later.

[newstfionline]

Brexit Has Brought Britain to a Standstill

Bloomberg, September 18, 2018

An enormous amount of activity attends every episode in Britain’s painful quest to leave the European Union. The drama is unrelenting: from Brexiteer-in-Chief Boris Johnson’s political antics to the latest rupture in the cabinet, from the Bank of England’s warnings about the dire consequences of a hard Brexit to major financial institutions in the City of London plotting exit strategies for Frankfurt, Paris, or Luxembourg. Prime Minister Theresa May’s job seems to be always in the balance--except for the fact that no one else really wants the responsibility of seeing the process through. On Sept. 19, she was due in the Austrian city of Salzburg for a key summit with EU leaders to edge the Brexit train further down the track.

But while the ruling circles in London are frenetic over the details of the divorce proceedings, the rest of the U.K. is stuck in political and bureaucratic torpor. The country--as an administrative entity--has virtually stopped working. “Brexit is absolutely sucking energy away from the routine business of government,” says Ruth Alcroft, a councilor in Carlisle, a city in England’s far north, 260 miles from the power brokers in London.

Different communities and enterprises have their different beefs. Alcroft’s complaint is that the bigger and better flood defenses promised by the U.K. government after her city and surrounding areas were inundated almost three years ago haven’t arrived because anything that doesn’t pertain to Brexit gets kicked into the long grass. Even the daily business of running the country is suffering. Ministers just don’t have the time to attend to the needs and ambitions of ordinary citizens.

John Gallacher, who runs Gaia Wind Ltd., a wind energy company based in Edinburgh, says he struggles to get face time with ministers to discuss policy affecting his industry. Another power company that won permission for a regeneration project in the Welsh city of Swansea three years ago says it has the same problem. And when it eventually got a hearing, its plan was nixed by the government. Local councilors in Yorkshire blame Brexit for delays in railway upgrades.

Brexit is literally stifling the workplace. The hours absorbed by machinations and negotiations could be diverted to making the country more productive. The average U.S. worker gets as much done by Thursday afternoon as a U.K. counterpart would in an entire week, according to the International Monetary Fund. Growth in output per hour has yet to recover to precrisis levels and lags behind many European peers. “If the same level of energy and passion was deployed in improving productivity as there is in debate of the granularity of Brexit terms, it would certainly lead to an increase in productivity,” says Christine Lagarde, head of the IMF.

Cutting loose from Europe is the British incarnation of the populist revolts that swept Donald Trump into the White House and, more recently, Italian nationalists into power. But since the result of the referendum stunned the establishment in June 2016, the political obsession in the U.K. has been how to fulfill the outcome rather than address the causes of the rebellion. As a result, Britain has become frozen in time, gripped by the herculean task. The paradox is that many of the very regions that voted with gusto for Brexit are now even more cut off from the center of power. “There are the micro-processes of government that are in turmoil because of the revolving doors of ministers, and then there’s been the internal party fighting and squabbling, which is then consuming all of the political oxygen,” says Mary Creagh, a lawmaker for the opposition Labour Party and chair of Parliament’s Environment Committee. “It means the normal decision-making of government is not happening and has not happened for two years.”

Whether or not a palatable deal with Brussels is finally agreed on in coming months, the discontentment and isolation that caused the rupture have been left to become even more entrenched. And if some Brexit opponents get their way and orchestrate a repeat referendum, there’s no guarantee it will be reversed, despite more warnings of economic hardship this month from the chief of carmaker Jaguar Land Rover Ltd., the governor of the Bank of England, and others.

Manifesto promises from the Conservative Party have been ditched, ministers are shying away from policy initiatives, and legislative time in Parliament is dominated by bills to prepare the country for its scheduled departure in March. May’s flagship EU Withdrawal Bill has taken up 273 hours of legislators’ time--17 times the average spent on other bills, according to the Institute for Government.

In the meantime, the U.K. tax authority has been forced to drastically scale back a £1.8 billion ($2.4 billion) transformation program that was supposed to make it one of the most digitally advanced tax administrations in the world while it tries to prepare Britain for as-yet-undecided new customs and border service arrangements. It cut the number of modernization projects from 267 to 128. “We very clearly prioritized Brexit, receipts, and efficiency,” Jon Thompson, the civil servant who runs the tax office, told a committee in Parliament in April. “If they did not meet those criteria, then they got a lower priority.”

Brexit also appears to have dimmed the energy of May’s junior ministers. While up-and-coming politicians would typically use their first ministerial postings to advance their careers, they know there isn’t the parliamentary time to listen anymore, according to Dave Penman, who heads the FDA, a union for the country’s top civil servants. “This is a zombie government in terms of domestic policy,” he says. “Depending on the department, you’ve got the drain of the brains, and the actual time and numbers [of people] are going elsewhere.”

May’s weak government struggles to pass anything remotely contentious through Parliament, and most big efforts at legislation are linked to unraveling four decades of membership in Europe’s integration project. The date for an agreement with Brussels was pushed out again to November.

Brexit may have been a demonstration of the wider country’s frustration at not having its voice heard, but the result is even more centralization of power in London. “Almost all the work of Parliament is built around Brexit,” says Vince Cable, the Liberal Democrat leader who served as business secretary in Cameron’s five-year coalition government. “Big decisions that should be grappled with are all being put on hold because they are difficult and are going to involve some friction between ministers.”

Parts of May’s flagship industrial strategy, which aims to get the economy “firing on all cylinders,” have stalled. Nine months after it was announced, there’s no sign of a council of business leaders that’s supposed to advise the government. An official for the business department said it would be announced shortly.

The delay in providing clarity on Britain’s post-Brexit future is denting investor confidence in the country, says Stephen Phipson, head of EEF, a manufacturing lobby group. The mood of large multinationals has changed over the past two years “from waiting and being impatient to anger in a lot of cases,” he says.

Others are more sanguine. Gallacher, at the wind turbine business in Edinburgh, says maybe having less government in the background is a good thing. “What Brexit has done is, it means we have no access to the politicians at the moment to influence anything,” he says. “But actually they are so taken up with Brexit activities, at least they’re not making things any worse.”

[stillness-in-green]

Everything's Right Until It's Wrong (feat. Gallus Bauduin’s A+ Parenting)

I don't know about anyone else, but there's something about Gallus Bauduin that I find deeply hilarious.  When the BF and I were first watching through the second season, we had a few talks about him--the BF just couldn't get a handle on the guy.  He couldn't decide whether the show was trying to show Gallus as a total buffoon or a complete chessmaster, while it always seemed pretty plain to me that Gallus is neither of those at all.   

Rather, Gallus strikes me as a genial, outgoing man groomed his entire life to eventually take on a position of power.  He's no authoritarian tyrant; he doesn't need to be.  He has children that are largely obedient, or at least whose outbursts aren't outside the normal bounds of childish rebellions.  He's comfortable in his seat of power, wielding it as one who's accustomed to it, and does not expect any major upsets in the smooth sailing that is his life.  For the bulk of the series, we never see him without a smile on his face, as he carries out his modest manipulations and power plays with an ever-present air of calm, paternal satisfaction.  Like most of the Seven Stars, he doesn’t seem to care overmuch about the state of the world outside his own privileged sphere.  He knows how the game of his life is played, including the role children play in said game, and has zero doubts that his position as bolstered by said children is totally secure.

And that's what makes his comeuppance in season two so satisfying.  I mean, he must have been so proud, don’t you think?  

 Gallus has, on the one hand, a son who's a promising young officer rooting out corruption in Gjallarhorn, veritably drowning in marriage proposals, good friends with the heir of another family, a capable fighter, but still on top of the latest fashions (because there's no way that hairstyle is anything other than the latest noble fashion).  Gaelio is tall and broad-shouldered, handsome, sociable, and the worst anyone can say about him is that he's a little blithe, and sometimes shirks his social obligations.  And, well, he's young; those are acceptable flaws in a young man, the kind of thing Gaelio will eventually mature out of.  No problems there.   

Gallus has, on the other hand, a young blossom of a daughter determined to be everything a young lady should be.  She's pretty in a way that will mature into beauty, devoted to learning the feminine arts, demure now, but with a spark that can surely be nourished into confidence and poise as she grows.  She's honing her social graces, she loves the man Gallus has picked for her, and she gives Gaelio just enough hassle to keep him on his toes.  No problems there.  

If you look below the surface, you find even more to like.  They're both willing to admit shortcomings and gaps in their knowledge. They're both willing to take guidance from sources they trust.  They're honest, earnest people, people who have been raised to place a high value on personal honor and dedication to one's allies.  They're not cruel to their subordinates, but they're not afraid of flexing their status if they need to, either.  Beautiful, perfect children, raised to beautifully, perfectly, advance the Bauduin family name. 

And yet therein lie all of Gallus' problems.

Gaelio is so completely bound to the obligation to avenge betrayal that he never even told his father he was alive.  He could have reached out to Gallus at any time, and McGillis would have gone down in flames for the stunt with Grimgerde.  But that would only have avenged Gaelio himself, and that wasn't enough: he had to avenge Carta and Ein, as well, and legal channels would not have accomplished that goal.  Conversely, his dedication to personal honor also meant that he couldn't just attack McGillis in/as Vidar and be done with it.  He needed to know what McGillis's intentions were; there had to have still been a part of him that acknowledged the corruption within Gjallarhorn and still wanted to know how McGillis planned to fix it.  All the way up to Bael, you get the feeling Gaelio would have listened to McGillis's explanation.

But the complications with McGillis aren't the worst of what Gaelio's upbringing lead him to, not by a long shot.  No, because of the belief structure he'd been raised to, Gaelio believed more than anyone in the legitimate nobility of an unbalanced zealot like Ein Dalton.  He should have jettisoned that particular subordinate as soon as he wound up plugged into an illegal custom Graze, but Gaelio didn't just stand by him, oh, no.  That faith was so strong that Gaelio wound up getting taboo body modification that linked him physically and mentally to the Devil of Edmonton.

When Gaelio first saw Mika's three Alaya-Vijnana implants, he literally retched at the side of the road.  That's a noble's response to an orphan space rat getting a surgery everyone knows about to make a living--how much worse do you think the reaction would be from Gallus when he finds out his own son, one of the richest and most influential people in the system, was willingly involved with something as horrific as the Type-E Alaya system?  And even if Gallus could find a way to move past that prejudice, what do you think the odds are that anyone else in their social strata could?  So much for all those marriage prospects.  

And speaking of marriage prospects…

Almiria is so completely bound to her vision of what a lady and wife should be that, even after the most awful kind of personal betrayal, she still clung to her tattered dignity and her title as McGillis’s wife.  She took news of McGillis’s uprising like a samurai’s wife, totally prepared to sacrifice everything for her husband’s goals, because that’s what a good wife is supposed to do.  And sure, some of that is tied up, not in her idea of what it is to be a lady, but in her conflicted love for McGillis himself—I also don't doubt for a moment that, as someone who is already wrestling with how people deride behind her back her as a child, Almiria saw the one avenue that would give her any agency in what was going to happen to her next and grabbed it with both hands.  She didn't say any of that stuff, though; no, her defense of her decision when Gallus demands she reverse it is 100% wrapped in the language of nobility and wifely obligation. She has learned exactly how to talk the language a noble woman should talk, and how to flex her social status to achieve her own ends.  

I mean, really.  It must burn to know you’ve raised your kids to hew so perfectly, and so courageously, to your own ethics that no amount of threatened damage to the family name and call to circle the wagons will dent the armor of that doomed idealism.  Gallus Bauduin raised his children to be exactly the people they are, and look at where that got him in the end.  Of all the people who survived to see the epilogue, I can't imagine there's one who did it with such a powerful sense of gall as him.  

The schadenfreude, my friends.  It is so good.

[bubonickitten]

So what do you think are anders best traits (other than him worrying about mage rights and him being a compassive healer?) I really love him and I love the way you write about him so I'm just curious.

There’s a lot I love about him :0

I mean, on a personal level, he’s a really relatable character for me, so that’s part of why I like him so much.

But I also like him as a character in general. (I’ll put this post under a cut bc it got long.) 

Him being a compassionate healer and being incredibly passionate about mage rights are huge parts of his character and they’re honestly two of the biggest things that make me like him so much. 

Like, here’s a person who was subject to systemic abuse for most of his life, who knows full well the repercussions of rebelling against the status quo, but does it anyway, because his convictions are just that strong. He knows that the Circle and the Chantry are fundamentally wrong. He’s experienced and witnessed firsthand what happens to people who fight back. Hell, when we meet him Awakening, he’s only just recently been released from a year of solitary confinement for running away - he just got out and as soon as he was able to, he ran again. If he gets caught and sent back to the Circle again, he’s going back into solitary confinement at the very least, and by the time he’s in Kirkwall, he’s also possessed by a spirit, so he’s risking just being killed outright. He’s risking everything by fighting back so openly and actively, but he does it anyway. 

And it’s not just Justice’s presence that makes him so willing to fight. Even when he was running, he was fighting back, because by constantly running away, he was refusing to submit. But in Awakening, Anders did feel like he couldn’t have any impact on the status quo - he believed that things would change eventually, he believed that the way mages are treated is inherently and fundamentally wrong and one day things would be different, but he didn’t think he’d ever see it in his lifetime, and he didn’t believe he of all people could do anything to enact change. Justice helped him realize that he could be an agent of change, but that fire and that strong sense of right and wrong were already there - it just needed to be validated and encouraged, which Justice did for him. 

And I do like that Anders needed support to be able to get to that point, bc I feel like that’s... realistic, y’know? I don’t like the idea that everyone should have to fend for themselves and not have to rely on others to stand up and fight. He couldn’t do it alone, and there’s nothing wrong with that. He hasn’t gotten much support from others throughout his life, so I like that in this instance, he had someone to lean on. (And I still wish there were more opportunities to support him more actively in DA2.)  

Like, it was difficult for Anders to admit to those feelings of powerlessness - which is entirely understandable, because in his experience, showing that kind of vulnerability could get him killed or worse (if the templars considered a mage to be weak-willed, they might not even give them a chance at the Harrowing and just make them Tranquil outright - and Anders is canonically mentally ill, which I imagine added an extra burden in terms of hiding his vulnerability). So, outwardly, he talked a big talk about only being concerned with his own freedom and pretends to be more apathetic and careless than he actually is. 

This also shows a lot in terms of his sense of humor - it’s a lot of morbid sarcasm, irreverent joking, gallows humor even - because he uses it as a shield and a coping mechanism. Ngl, I love that aspect of him, it’s one of the things that started endearing him to me in Awakening first. I play my Hawke as having a similar sense of irreverent, snarky humor, so they play well off of one another. Humor as a coping mechanism is a character trait I tend to appreciate and relate to a lot, haha. 

Anyway, I think in actuality he cares so much it hurts. It might not seem like it when we first meet him in Awakening, but I think it’s just that it’s easier and psychologically safer for him to pretend he doesn’t care than it is to admit that he does care but feels powerless to change things. It takes a lot of strength (and also support from others, which again, is something that Anders hasn’t had much of throughout most of his life) to be able to confront your own vulnerability and try to channel it into something that benefits others. 

But even in Awakening, his actions often contradicted the “I don’t care about anyone but myself” talk - if you tell him to run away in the beginning of the game, he’ll do so, but he shows back up like five minutes later because he felt like he couldn’t leave the Warden to fight the darkspawn alone (he jokes about being “bad at the whole ‘fugitive from justice’ thing”, which... turns out to be way more accurate than he may even realize in that moment). In the endgame, he’s not eager to go along with the Warden to Amaranthine, but if you do bring him, he’s one of the companions who will argue against leaving Amaranthine to burn - his instincts might tell him to run, but he cares too much about the survivors in Amaranthine to leave them to their fate. 

Not to mention, canonically, spirit healers are kinda rare. They derive a lot of their power from spirits of compassion, which means earning spirits’ trust and cooperation. A person who isn’t compassionate probably wouldn’t be able to earn that cooperation of a spirit of compassion in the first place. Not to mention his interest in being a healer in general - it’s a big part of his identity, to the point where in DA2, one of the things he worries most about is not being able to heal anymore because he’s so afraid that he or Justice will accidentally hurt one of his patients.

I think a lot of his attachment to the healer role is also tied up in his own internalized belief that he has to be a Good Mage in order to deserve freedom - it seems contradictory, it’s something that goes against his stated principles, mages shouldn’t have to prove themselves and be ‘good’ mages according to the Chantry’s fucked up doctrine to deserve freedom and life and love, but he lived in the Circle for at least half his life and he definitely internalized a lot of the hateful messages they taught about mages. Fighting against those teachings is a constant battle for him - which also ties into his occasional crises of faith, because he’s an Andrastian and all the spiritual authorities in his life have taught him that he’s a non-person, that he’s inherently sinful and cursed and deserving of subjugation because he’s a mage. 

So, he has a lot of moments of self-doubt. He has a lifetime of trauma and abuse that affect his present well-being. He has a lot of self-loathing and a lot of fear of himself (the latter esp after merging with Justice). He doesn’t see himself as worthy of love or care, even if he talks passionately about how mages deserve those things - he often doesn’t give himself the same consideration that he’s willing to give others. He has an incredibly complicated relationship with his own anger - because his anger is totally and completely justifiable, but it scares him, because he associates rage and anger with demons and loss of control. (I think a big source of the conflict btwn he and Justice is how they differ re: embracing and accepting anger. For Justice, that anger is righteous fury, it’s justified, it’s a source of passion and change. For Anders, it’s a source of fear and insecurity a lot of the time. I think a lot of their miscommunication is rooted in that fear.)

But Anders works himself half to death trying to help as many people as he can for as long as he can, and even though he’s barely making a dent in all the suffering he sees in the world, even though he’s risking everything, he just keeps going, because that’s how strongly he believes and that’s how much he cares. Every mage he helps escape the Gallows, every patient he helps in his clinic is worth it to him. That kind of perseverance in the face of hopelessness and doubt and a world set against you is really admirable to me.

And I also like how clear it is that it doesn’t come easy to him. It’s not just some inspiration porn “you can do anything you set your mind to if you just try :)” thing. He stumbles a lot. He fails a lot. He spends most of DA2 in a constant state of anxiety and desperation (esp since he really doesn’t get much support from the people closest to him, except like… Justice and Hawke, if you play Hawke in a supportive role). He’s idealistic, but he can’t help but dip into periods of hopelessness and depression and doubt - partly because he has a mood disorder, partly because that’s just… expected for someone who’s seen as much shit as he has. His life is messy and he’s tired and it shows. But even when he’s running, he’s fighting. Sometimes, survival is in itself a form of rebellion and he’s a walking example of that. He is stubborn and although sometimes it’s a negative, it also has its perks. And that passion doesn’t just manifest as rage - it’s also love, because lbh, he is a hopeless romantic (in a dorky, endearing way at times) and in his romance route he loves Hawke fiercely.  

It’s a shame that he didn’t get more positive character development in DA2 (it’s no secret how resentful I am toward the writers, he and Justice really deserved better). I headcanon him over time learning how to communicate and coexist with Justice; learning to practice self-care and be kinder to himself; more fully accepting that he has a right to be angry and he doesn’t have to prove that he’s deserving of personhood or love.

And he has a fair amount of flaws for sure - he has a tendency to project his insecurities onto others (e.g. Merrill), he’s not a good ally to other marginalized groups (e.g. elves), he sometimes lashes out at others when they don’t deserve it (which, although I understand why he behaves that way, it still isn’t fair to others who are on the receiving end), he was manipulative in the ‘Justice’ quest (I understand his motivations but despite his intentions it wasn’t acceptable behavior) - but I think he has an ability to better himself in those areas and I like to headcanon that personal growth for him. (That’s not to say I want him to be a flawless character - nobody’s perfect, and a flawless character would be pretty flat and unrealistic, but I also like when characters are allowed to have personal growth in a positive direction.)

I guess, in all, he’s an interesting, likable, and relatable character for me - I wish the writers treated him better, I have a lot of criticisms wrt how he (and Justice) were written (including how Anders was treated as a bipolar character), and I’m also willing to criticize him where it’s deserved (I have a whole tag full of meta w/ my criticisms of him) - but overall he’s one of my faves.

 Tbh the reason why DA2 is my fave game in the series (despite all of my criticisms of the writing in it, esp Act 3) is the characters. Hawke is my favorite protag and DA2 has probably my favorite companion group - like, Anders, Merrill, Fenris, Isabela, and Varric are some of my fave characters in the whole series - so the characters are ultimately what make me like that game.  

[captain-fofa-stuff]

A Certain Fire Emblem Gaiden Plot Point

There was a particular plot point in Fire Emblem Gaiden/Echoes that I found so baffling, it made me wonder: who was the writer to have not quite thought it through, and who was the producer and/or director to have approved of it. It’s not as bad some of the plot stuff in Fates--none of the other games in the series could ever hope to top that one--but I swear it’s strong enough to make me want to make a dent in my keyboard that’s shaped like my forehead.

The plot point I’m referring to is the reveal about Rudolf’s plan and his relationship with Alm. Namely that Rudolf, in wanting to free the people from the influence of the gods, leaves his son Alm in the care of his friend Mycen (who’s a knight allied with the opposite nation, I should add), and then he’ll eventually put his plan into effect, which is to seal the goddess Mila into Valentia’s equivalent of the Falchion and then start a war to make the heroes rise up to defeat him, and he’s banking on his own son to lead this rebellion and kill him so that he’ll take the Falchion and slay the god Duma and unite the two kingdoms into one.

Where to start?

First, Mycen and Rudolf are stated to have been friends. How did they become friends? The only flashback we get for interactions between the two is of a memory orb showing when Rudolf hands his son over. Some more “show, don’t tell” in their pasts (hopefully when when they’re younger looking, taking their current ages into account) would’ve been helpful. (It’s also mentioned by a villager that Mycen was originally from Rigel, but that’s a detail that could easily be missed.)

Second, why was initiating a war his first plan? He’s an emperor--he literally could’ve used his position as a ruler to educate the people as to what was going on with the gods and the state of the world. It would’ve been a more peaceful method of getting stuff done and it wouldn’t have caused the deaths of countless innocent people who would’ve wanted to live to see this peace. Or was he afraid of assassination attempts on his life would risk putting a premature end to that?

Third, leaving his only child in Mycen’s care away in Zofia and as a commoner unaware of his heritage. There are risks that are more likely to happen with him being a commoner, even if his parent figure is a powerful knight: what if a deadly disease like a plague spread through the peasantry and Alm died from catching it? Or he was killed through a freak accident involving a wagon? Or abducted by aliens bandits? Or even if Alm did survive to adulthood, what if he was an honest to goodness pacifist who refused to fight and thus not join any rebellions? What if Alm got killed during any of the skirmishes and fights against Rigel, plot armour and the like be damned? Or what if any of those things I listed earlier happened to Mycen? If he was gone, the secrets would’ve died with him. Also with Mycen, he’s raised Alm since he was a baby (explicitly stated when he was a newborn), and they need a mother’s milk for at least the first few months, so who fed him? As for the whole “the Duma Faithful will want to kill him” thing (which also makes me wonder: when exactly did Jedah forcefully take over the order and force the previous leader into hiding? Halcyon doesn’t strike me as the type who’d kill the chosen one if he was the leader), it’s very simple: don’t reveal that he has the brand and keep it hidden with gloves or something. The religious people can’t act on anything they don’t know about. (just how much power does Duma’s church have in Rigel if they’re the biggest threat to his plan?) Finally, if Alm had stayed at home as the prince of Rigel, I’m fairly certain that if Rudolf wanted to unite the two countries so badly, he would’ve done everything in his power to try and get his son and Zofia’s princess Anthiese (aka Celica) in an arranged marriage.

Fourth, while Alm might be Rudolf’s own flesh and blood, if he did take the throne of Rigel, I imagine that a good number of the Rigelian people would refuse to believe claims that he is Rudolf’s child because his birth was kept hidden. Even with Mycen and other officials backing it up, what’s going to stop them from thinking that he was a plant set up by the Zofians or even an impostor who’s after the throne?

Fifth, in the remake, Desaix was shown figuring out who his actual identity was. How did he figure this out? Did he read ahead in the script? Related to that, what if there were other Zofians who also figured that out and then captured him and used him as a hostage against Rudolf?

Furthermore, where is his MOTHER in all of this?! Seriously, did she have any consent in this plan? Or did she conveniently die in childbirth or something? Why is she never mentioned at all? A ruler’s wife does demand a certain amount of attention. Or did Alm literally come from Rudolf alone?

I can understand wanting to make a twist to surprise the audience who would have played the previous game and thus not see it coming, particularly for a game originally made in 1992, where stories were more cliche by default. What I expect is for the writer and whoever would’ve approved of it to actually think deeper about the character’s motive to see if it would actually make sense and not make the audience question every little detail of it.