#the avatar is an incredibly powerful figure who also holds a lot of political power

[iidsch]

People who complain about the focus on cop characters in the legend of korra are valid and I agree with them but at the same time it's weird to criticise that when the avatar is a worse version of a cop

[itsclydebitches]

re: that ask you posted a couple days ago about the male and female representation in RWBY, part of what makes RWBY's whole 'girl power' thing ring exceptionally hollow to me is the fact that there are like... no women in positions of real power in remnant. like at all. except the big bad.

winter is second in command to james. glynda is second in command to ozpin. all of the headmasters are men (for no discernible reason, imo; why theodore and not dorothea?). the leader of the ace ops was a white man (and then winter seemed to take over clover's position instead of either of the women of color on the team, and she was still second to james). RWBY is an all girl team, but JNPR was led by a boy despite a girl arguably being far more qualified (pyrrha). the happy huntresses are all women, and robyn had no real power to speak of--she didn't even manage to win the election, because jacques rigged it, and then the council ceased to matter. there was one (1) woman on the council, but she was so inconsequential that i can't even remember her name. (i suppose we're lucky it was the guy and not her who james shot lol) jacques controls the SDC instead of willow, even though he's not even a schnee by blood and actually married into the family for power. (and we don't even know how he got it over his wife.)

and then there's the white fang, which ghira led and not kali--and it's ghira who leads menagerie itself, while kali seems to be a housewife. sienna had five minutes of screentime before being brutally killed and her position assumed by adam, a man. cordovin is basically a one off lackey we haven't even thought about before or since. neo was second to roman. you have cinder, sure, who is a second but to salem, a woman, and raven as the leader of the branwen tribe--but what does it really say about your 'girl power' narrative when the only women with genuine systemic power in your world are villains or antagonists with massive bodycounts??

atla has the same sort of problem--a couple great female characters, but all the leadership positions are men (except the kyoshi warriors, an all girls group, and even then the leader of their island is an old man) and the one female mentor figure also turns out to be evil--but it at least has some great writing to help overlook that fact, and it came out in the mid-00's and so has some sort of excuse of being a product of its time. but rwby didn't even start until 2013 and it's still going and still making these kinds of decisions well into 2021.

where is this supposed girl power, exactly? am i really supposed to overlook the very patriarchal worldbuilding just because the title characters are girls?

That's an excellent summary of the situation, anon, and as with so much in RWBY, it comes down to the full context. Any one of these examples isn't necessarily going to mean much on its own. It's when you look at the pattern that you can start making a case for those conclusions: Why is the show marketed on "girl power" set in a world where men hold the vast majority of that power? And, more importantly, why is that setup not the point? We could easily have a story where that lopsided gender dynamic is the problem that the girls are looking to fix, but... that story doesn't exist. Like the problems discussed with Jaune, the supposed point here exists only on the surface. Dig just the tinniest bit — the above — and you hit on a lot of structural problems with this "girl power" world.

To add just a few details to what you've already said:

Salem indeed has power, but she's never allowed to fully use it. Each volume the frustration with this grows as Salem accumulates more abilities and then just sits on them. From literally hiding out for a thousand years to worries that she won't use the Staff in Volumes 9-10, Salem really isn't allowed to be the threat she's presented as on the surface. And yes, this is absolutely due in part to the "She's too OP and the writers don't know how to let her be that powerful while still having the heroes win" issue, but again, context. That problem doesn't exclude others occurring simultaneously.

Same double explanation with Summer. Yes, dead moms are an incredibly common trauma to dump on a protagonist, but it still left Yang and Ruby with Tai as their primary influence. And Qrow. The uncle becomes the extended family influence while Raven is the absent one/eventual antagonist. It's personal power as opposed to political power, but Tai, Qrow, Ozpin, formerly James... most of the mentors are men. Maria, a key exception, has been ignored in that regard. The story announced that she was Qrow's inspiration, setup her being Ruby's new mentor, and then... nothing. Nothing has come of that. She disappeared for a volume and then went off to Amity and was literally forgotten by the story when evacuating everyone was the finale's whole point.

Like that Endgame moment I mentioned, the Happy Huntresses feel a little too forced to me. Yes, it's the same basic idea as in ATLA, but ATLA, as you say, has a lot more going for it. The Happy Huntresses feel... on the nose? Idk exactly how to explain it. Like, "Here they are! Another team of all women! Isn't this how progressive storytelling works? Just ignore how this is a one-off team of minor characters compared to the world building issues discussed above." And if you're not paying attention, you miss just how insignificant they are, with a side of Robyn being, well, Robyn. The Kyoshi Warriors, at least, are based off of Kyoshi. A woman avatar who is a significant part of their history. That is, presumably, why they're an all women warrior group (but who notably still teach Sokka). The Happy Huntresses are all huntresses because...? There's no reason except that meta "We want to look progressive" explanation. Just like having all the women superheroes team up for a hot second so people get excited and ignore the representation problems across, what? 21 films? Don't get me wrong, I love that May is among the Happy Huntresses. I think including her in the explicitly all-women group was one of the better things RWBY has done in a long time, but the rest is still a mess.

RWBY is arguably about these smaller groups as opposed to systematic power (despite the writers trying to work that in with things like the White Fang and the election. Not to mention the implication that everything in Atlas is fine now that evil Ironwood has died and taken the symbol of wealth (the city) with him. We saw a human holding hands with a faunus after all. Racism and corruption solved, I guess.) So yes, our group is dominated by women... but Whitley is the one saving Nora, helping to defeat the Hound (plus Willow), thinking of the airships, and providing the blueprints they need to escape. Salem is our Big Bad, except Ironwood is the one the volume focuses on. Ruby is our leader, but Jaune is the one leading the group into the whale and getting praised for how heroic he is. Ren does more to shake things up, even if he's painted as the one in the wrong. Oscar gets to confront Salem and destroys the whale threat. Ozpin provides the information they need to evacuate. Meanwhile, when the girls do things in Volume 8 it's almost always followed by a long-stint of passiveness. Nora opens the door so she can be unconscious for most of the volume. Penny keeps Amity up so she can also be unconscious for a good chunk of time. Ruby sends her message and then sits in a mansion. Blake fights so she can tearfully beg Ruby to save her. Weiss, as said, takes a backseat to Whitley (and Klein). They forward the plot, absolutely, but comparatively it doesn't feel like enough.

It's that pattern then, no one specific example. More and more the personal power, not just the systematic power already built into Remnant, seems to be coming from the men. Not all the time, but enough that scenes like the tea drinking moment feel like a part of a much larger problem. Pietro taking control, Watts hacking, and Ambrosius literally remaking her when Penny is supposed to already be in control of herself and her fate. Winter being presented as the active mentor to Weiss, only to turn around and claim that Ironwood was actually responsible for everything. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and May straight up commenting on how awful things are out there while Yang, Jaune, Ren, and Oscar lead the charge against Salem — with the latter three doing the most to forward that mission (no fear, semblance, cane). As others have only half-joked, Yang's supposedly badass moment was bringing up a mother she's ignored for six volumes and briefly blowing up the immortal woman for a couple of seconds (with Ironwood's bombs). Even Marrow is arguably the most significant Ace Op after Clover. Vine isn't actually a character, Elm slightly less so, Harriet is there to go crazy and try to drop a bomb (notably before admitting to never-before-existed feelings for Clover), but Marrow? He's the one who breaks out. Who is meant to heroically stand up against Ironwood. Who comments on how awful it is that teenagers are fighting and, regardless of how messed up the moral messages are, is supposedly pushing for active change while all the women in his group, including Winter, insist on maintaining the status quo. Look at all these choices as a whole, it makes throwaway worldbuilding choices like "All the Maidens are women" feel pretty hollow. Why does it matter if Amber is a Maiden if she dies in a flashback so Ozpin can struggle to pass on the power? If Pyrrha dies before becoming one so Jaune can angst about it? If Raven is one and then disappears from the story entirely? If Winter has enough power to break Ironwood's aura, but supposedly had no power throughout every other choice she made getting here? If Penny is one, but is continually controlled by men and then asks another man to help her die? It's just really unconvincing, once you look past the surface excitement of a woman looking cool with magic powers.

When you do consider the whole of the story — both in terms of our world building and who is forwarding the plot in the latter volumes, getting the emotional focus, being proactive, etc. — there are a lot of problems that undermine the presumed message RT wants to write. They say, "girl power" by marketing RWBY with these four women, but too many of the storytelling decisions thoroughly undermine that, revealing what's likely a deeply ingrained, subconscious bias.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

TAZ Fic prompt: Taako and Kravitz on their second date please!

6300 words later, this is also on AO3.

PSA: there be some smut here.

Here is a list of the shit Taako has learned about the GrimReaper since threatening to execute some tentacle porn on theman—being?—several months ago:

The accent? Fake.  He’s not sure why Kravitzfeels the need to have a business accent, since his normal voice is soft andcharming, but sure, dude, some people have train names.

His hands are cold because Kravitz is dead.  This feels like it should have been obvious. 

Kind of a dork? It’s strange to equate the shy politeness with the same person who spenta good minute and a half shouting about Merle’s death bounty.

Likes red wine, can’t get drunk, which seemslike a shitty deal.

Taako is considering adding more information to that list,starting with a fucking loser andmoving on from there, because Kravitz just spent solidly five minutes trying toarticulate a sentence over the link between their Stones.

“Hang on, bubbe, let me take a stab at this,” Taakointerrupts, and Kravitz falls silent. “Drinks at the Chug and Squeeze again? Say, nine o’ clock moon time?”

“Yes,” Kravitz says, relieved.  “That sounds wonderful.”

“Sure about that?” Taako drawls.  “That was like pulling teeth.”

Kravitz laughs a little bit—nice laugh, another fact for the list.  “I—well, most people are pretty glad to seeme go.”

“I’m sure they are, handsome, it’s a pleasure to watch yougo.”  Kravitz makes a faint choking noiseand Taako snickers, which might be a little mean, but also, Taako doesn’tcare.  Taako carefully draws a brush fullof silver-green polish across his thumbnail and cocks his head at the Stone ofFarspeech.  “We haven’t died any timesthat I’m not aware of, right?  This isn’ta business thing or whatever?”

“Uh, no,” Kravitz says, stumbling over the words.  “I was—it was—I was thinking maybe a date.”

Taako grins.  WindingKravitz up is probably cruel, but it’s so eminentlygratifying.  “I’d take you somewherenicer for our third date, but there ain’t a lot of options on the moon,y’know?  I guess we could go to FantasyCostco and you could see how you do against Garfield–”

“Third date?”

“Sure, keep up.” Taako counts them off on his fingers, unnecessary but amusing.  “The lab, the Chug and Squeeze, andtonight.  Hey, if you count the nightafter Refuge separately I guess this is four.”

“The lab—Taako, I was under orders to hunt you down and execute you in the lab.”

“I dunno, homie, kinky tentacle shit generally counts as adate.  I’ll see you tonight, dress nice,okay-peace-bye.”  And Taako severs theconnection while Kravitz is still stammering through the start of his response.

Taako keeps snickering the whole time he finishes paintinghis nails, because the alternative is to chew on his lips and wonder what thefuck he’s doing.  At least the familiardetail work keeps his hands steady.

Kravitz is nice, is the thing.  Nice,fuck, Taako’s never really…nice isn’treally Taako’s type, see, because Taako’s a lot of things and nice isn’t one of them.  Taako breaksnice people.  Like Glamour Springs.  It wasn’t his fault.  It was all his fault.  You fedthem their death.  

Hell, Kravtiz has his big book of badness, shouldn’t he knowthat Taako’s a—an accessory to mass murder?

And for all his grim work—grim work, ha, Taako’s cracking himself up—Kravitz is nice, andgentle, and sweet.  He does things likesit with shell-shocked elves after time loops and laugh at little acts ofrebellion and splutter when Taako hits on him, and honestly Taako doesn’treally get his logic.  Taako is the bombdiggity, of course, but Taako’s also rude and prickly and downright mean sometimes and that’s not the kindof person that matches up with Kravitz. He doesn’t understand what Kravitz wants.  A date, sure. Maybe even a fuck, or two, and Kravtiz’s magically constructed body is apretty hot piece of ass so Taako would be fine with that.

But what the fuck else is Kravitz after?

Taako can hear Magnus’ voice in his head telling him thatnot everyone is after something, but just because Magnus is a big dumb lug whowears his big dumb heart on his big dumb sleeve doesn’t mean Magnus is right.

Everyone’s always after something, with Taako.

God, maybe Kravitz is just lonely.  For all that he’s a fine figure, in his suitand…well, his skin, when he’s wearing it, there can’t be that many peopleinterested in chatting up an avatar of death, a vengeful emissary of the RavenQueen herself.  And it’s not like he canjust go pick someone up at a bar, even if he had the free time—he’d still haveto explain that cold skin, and that would need to be one hell of a bluff.

That thought makes Taako feel a little steadier.  His hands don’t shake when he puts away thenail polish and turns to his closet, which is strewn half across the floorbecause there’s honestly no point inbeing a wizard if he can’t use it to keep his shit from wrinkling.

Right, then.  LonelyGrim Reaper.  Taako can deal withthat.  Besides, Taako hasn’t gotten laidsince before all this Bureau fuckery started—again, one hell of a bluff to pick someone up in a bar, and it’s not like themoon is that big—so he could stand tofuck a handsome semi-stranger in the Chug and Squeeze bathroom.

Or in his quarters, more likely.  Kravitz seems like ‘public sex’ is probablyone of his hangups.

Whatever.

He and Kravitz can go out and drink and harass the potteryinstructor, and then they can fuck, and it’ll probably be good because Kravitzjust screams ‘considerate in thesack’, and then they can both go their separate ways and get on with theirgoddamn lives.

Taako waits to feel the weight of anxiety lift from hischest, but instead it just settles into his gut, sullen and thick.  He shakes his head, trying to shake thefeeling away, and settles down to picking out some clothes that will get himlaid tonight.  His hair will be easy, asimple braid, something that will come undone in a rush if he needs it to—heconsiders putting it up, maybe something effortless like a messy bun, somethingthat would show off his neck, but. No.  Taako lets his hair fall fromwhere he’s holding it, looking away from the mirror as something kicks in his chest, like he’s seeing—likehe’s missing—like he’s—like—

The blue skirt will go well with his nails, he decides.

***

Kravitz shows up in the shared living room of the Reclaimerdorm at five minutes to nine, because Kravitz is a monster.  Taako had enough time to kill that he’s alreadyset to go, but it’s the principle of the thing. Who the hell is that punctual?

Well, Taako allows with a little smirk, Death, obviously.

“Hi,” Taako says, flicking his braid over his shoulder, andKravitz looks up at him and smiles—fucking beams,really, and Taako really needs to stop hanging out with so many horrifyinglygenuine people.

“Hi,” Kravitz says, a little shy, tugging at his cuffs likehis suit is real and not just a convenient manifestation of his power.  It’s a very sharp manifestation, though,Taako has to give him that, black and sleek with a pearly grey shirt and a darkred tie that makes him look a little livelier with its color.  “You look incredible.”

“Obviously,” Taako sniffs, stepping over to Kravitz anddraping a hand over his shoulder, toying with one of the long dreadlocks at thenape of his neck.  “But really, my dude,so do you.  Do you even have to try tolook this fine?”

“It, uh.”  Kravitzsmiles down at him, the red glow behind his black eyes warm and cheerful.  Kravitz is tall, almost as tall as Magnus,and he has a whole head of height on Taako, but he doesn’t seem nearly as biglike this as he does in his skeletal form. “I’m happy to put in the effort for you.”

“Good answer.”  Taakogives the lock in his hand a light tug—hey, might as well start as he means togo on—and makes a point to stroke his fingers along the curve of Kravitz’sthroat as he pulls his arm back.

Kravitz, of course, is incapable of blushing, because he’sdead.  But he looks like he mightspontaneously develop the ability in order to cope.  It takes him a beat to offer Taako hisarm—because Kravitz is a fucking gentleman—and allow himself to be pulled outof the apartment.

This is going to be a fucking walk in the park.

Drinks and pottery go very much the same, with quietconversation and Taako taking every opportunity he can find to get his handsall over Kravitz.  It’s not ahardship.  And besides, Kravitz is reallypretty funny, when he’s talking about things that aren’t his divine obligationto execute Taako and his—his coworkers. Taako learns that Kravitz was a bard, and that he can’t help the way hiseyes glow, and that he’s easy to embarrass.

It’s been about an hour and the two of them have split mostof a bottle of chardonnay when Taako sways over to Kravitz and rests his chinon the reaper’s shoulder, close enough that his breath stirs one of thedreadlocks closest to him.  His lipsalmost brush the shell of Kravitz’s ear—faintly pointed, enough to render Kravitz’srace firmly ambiguous.

“Hey, thug,” Taako murmurs, shamelessly enjoying the way hefeels Kravitz stiffen against him in surprise. “Do you want to get out of here?”

He lets his hand wander up Kravitz’s thigh, just in case hismeaning was unclear.  Kravitz doesn’ttake that as hard as Taako might have expected, but he also seems to havefrozen in shock, so maybe the two cancel out.

“I—are you sure?”

There he goes again. Being nice.  Taako almost grabs his dick in the middle ofthe room in revenge, but resists the petty impulse in a show of purewillpower.  He settles instead fortightening his grip on Kravitz’s leg, just hard enough to hurt a little.

“Do I not seemsure?”

Kravitz laughs a little at that, and it’s that easy.  Kravitz lets Taako pull him outside and steala kiss in the shadows of the quad—Kravitz’s lips aren’t quite cold, just…cool,room temperature, and it’s a little like touching solid water with the way theyslide over Taako’s, and he can taste the wine and power.  Magic like nothingTaako can recall, except maybe for the way that the relics leave a crackle ofsomething in the air after they’ve been used. Kissing Kravitz is something like that, maybe, like breathing in airthat’s had an enormous amount of energy put through it very recently, and whenthey separate and Kravitz looks a little rumpled, a little dazed, Taako feels arush of smugness unlike anything in recent memory.

Once they’re back in the Reclaimer dorm—Magnus is still outhitting things with Carey and Killian, and Merle is god knows where doing godknows what—Taako doesn’t hesitate to crowd Kravitz up against the nearest walland kiss him again.  More aggressively,this time, tangling his fingers in the cords of Kravitz’s dreadlocks andsighing into his mouth when those broad cool hands came up to rest on hisback.  Taako catches Kravitz’s bottom lipin his teeth and bites down, not quite hard enough to do damage, and Kravitzmakes a sound like a growl deep in his chest. It vibrates against Taako’s ribs where they’re pressed together and thesharp jolt of want takes him offguard for long enough to find himself pressed up against the wall in Kravitz’splace, with all of Kravtiz’s height caging him in, and it doesn’t feel likebeing trapped so much as being wanted.

It’s the first time that Taako wonders if he’smiscalculated, but then Kravitz lowers his lips down over Taako’s cheek and jawto the side of his throat and the thought is wiped away like someone fed it tothe voidfish.  Somehow Kravitz taking theinitiative is a shock, as if Taako had expected him to be a novice at thiswithout even realizing it, but he doesn’t seem lacking in experience and Taakois profoundly enjoying the benefits of it.

“Fuck,” Taako sighs as teeth scrape against his skin,tipping his head and pressing a thigh up between Kravitz’s legs.  He really should ask what Kravitz even is, ifthings like elf and human even apply to him, but whateverthe fuck gives him teeth like that, sharp and even, is a-okay by Taako’sbook.  

“Taako,” Kravitz says into the pulse at his throat as Taako’shands busy themselves with the knot of his tie. “If your friends come back and we’re out here, they’ll be unhappy.”

Oh, right, Taako lives with people now.  People who might possibly still want to hitKravitz with a war hammer over some limbs or some shit like that.  It takes him a few moments to conclude that thisis a sufficiently serious concern to justify moving, because thealternative—letting Kravitz fuck him against a wall in the next fewminutes—seems far more compelling.

“Merle’s never happy,” Taako says, and Kravitz pulls away tolaugh as Taako sulks at him.  This timeTaako really does grab his dick in revenge, reaches a hand between them andpalms Kravitz through his pants, and the way the laughter turns into a hissingcurse, a thoughtless push of his hips, is absolutely worth it.  “Fine,” Taako says, magnanimous, and reachesup to loop both arms around Kravitz’s neck. “My door’s the second one.  Youcan do the work, handsome.”

Kravitz chuckles again and complies, lifting Taakoapparently effortlessly, Taako’s legs coming up to wrap around Kravitz’s waistwithout regard for the indecent way it shoves his skirt up almost past hiships.

“Strong boy,” Taako muses, giving a teasing squeeze to oneof Kravitz’s biceps as Kravitz shifts his weight so that he can catch thedoorknob and open it.  Inside, Taako snapshis fingers absently to wake the spark of magic in his lamp, shedding brightlight across the room at once.  He wantsto see what it looked like, when one of the Raven Queen’s own elite comesundone in his bed.

“I execute necromancers, Taako,” Kravitz says with a smallroll of his glowing eyes.  “I’m very strong.”

“Mmm,” Taako hums, and when Kravitz tries to set him gentlydown on the bed, he twists his weight to trip Kravitz down beneath him.  

This, sitting on Kravitz’s lap and pressed up against himfrom hip to shoulder, is possibly even better than the wall, and Taako kissesKravitz again as he starts working on the layersof buttons in the suit.  It’s aproduction.

“Why do you wear so many fucking clothes,” Taako muttersagainst Kravitz’s lips as he finally manages to wrestle jacket, shirt, andbraces off in one motion.

“Sorry,” Kravitz says, his hands—almost as warm as Taako’sskin, from contact—sliding up under Taako’s shirt, slowly, as if giving Taako achance to pull away.  “Would you ratherthe cloak?”

“God, you’re such a fucking dramatic loser.”  Taako ends his statement with a firm grind ofhis hips, and whatever Kravitz was about to say dies unspoken, swallowed by achoked sound as he closes his eyes sharply and takes a deep breath.  His skin goes thin and transluscent over hischeekbones for a moment, the edges of a skull pressing through until he getshimself under control, and the high of that is palpable, better than anythingelse Taako’s ever tried, the high of having made a Reaper lose control withnothing but a twist of his hips.  

When Kravitz opens his eyes, they glitter, and he pullsTaako’s shirt off over his head, a clumsy tangle of fabric for a moment beforethe shirt is gone and Taako learns some interesting facts about himself, amongthem that, apparently, the temperature thing is a Thing.  He can almost taste the spark that jumps to his corewhen he presses up against Kravitz’s bare chest, almost cold against Taako’sflushed skin.

Wow.  If he wasn’thard before, he sure as hell is now. That’s a thing that he didn’t see coming.

“Taako,” Kravitz says, almost gasps, like he needs air atall, against Taako’s shoulder, “I’ll need to get up to get my pants off.”

Taako considers just—just not moving, grinding down likethis and kissing Kravitz until they’re both stupid with it, coming half-dressedlike a pair of kids, but the appeal of seeing Kravitz naked is pretty strongtoo.  He kisses Kravitz again, wet anddirty and deep, before he slides off and abandons both his skirt and his underwearon the side of the bed.

Kravitz is beautiful, Taako thinks somewhat fuzzily as hewatches him undress.  Like, Taako isbeautiful too, don’t get him wrong, humility is for other people, but Kravitzknocks him out a little in a way that very few people can claim to havedone.  It’s not just the symmetry of hisangular face or the way his tendons line his hands or the perfect vee shape ofthe bones at his hips, it’s also that he has something other about him, a statement worth making when you could hit abaker’s dozen races with a well-swung cat.

But that’s not to say that the muscles of his thighs and themotionless curve of his ribs and his cock don’t make Taako’s mouth water alittle bit.  The latter, in particular.

Next time, Taako thinks idly as Kravitz kicks away hispants, Taako should put a little more planning into this, because he’d reallyenjoy having that inside him.  As it is,he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t last long enough.

The thought almost brings him up short.  Next time? There’s not going to be a next time. Taako already decided that.

“Are you all right?” Kravitz asks—nice, even standing there completely naked, he’s still nice.

“Fine, babe, all fine,” Taako says, and holds out ahand.  “You planning to join me or what?”

Kravitz smiles and takes Taako’s hand and—fucking save him—kisses the knuckles as heallows himself to be pulled down onto the bed. Taako pins him down, and knows that Kravitz is letting him, and stopsresisting the urge to rub up against the cool silk of Kravitz’s skin, untilhe’s breathing hard and rambling and Kravitz is barely breathing at all.  

“Taako,” Kravitz whispers, one hand coming up to tangle inTaako’s hair while the other reaches down to find their cocks, his hand bigenough to wrap around them both easily, and if the cool touch of his skin was ashock against Taako’s chest, it’s a fucking religiousmoment against Taako’s dick.  Hedoesn’t even try to hold back the yelp, and reaches down to weave his fingersthrough Kravitz when it seems like he’s going to pull away.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Taako hisses.

“Are you sure, I know–”

“Kravitz, I swear to fucking—fucking everyone, I’ll burn aspell slot on your ass right now if you stop.”

He gets another laugh for that, faint and almost breathy.  Kravitz is quiet in bed, mostly soft gaspsand moans when Taako does something he likes, once or twice that bone-rattlingrumble when Taako lays his blunt mortal teeth against Kravitz’s collarbone andbites down hard.  But then he doessomething a little unforgivable—laughs and says, “All right, darling.”

Taako’s heart stops in his chest, and his mouth comes downso hard on Kravitz’s that he thinks he might be bleeding from where his teethhit his lip, but the kiss silences anything else Kravitz could say.

Kravitz seems taken off-guard when he comes, a little breathof ah escaping his lips as he goesstiff and his mouth goes still under Taako’s. His hand tightens around the pair of them, and Taako comes too, theworld popping with white lights at the corners of his vision as he shuddersthrough it.  The world seems to havenarrowed down to Kravitz, his hand around Taako’s cock and his fingers inTaako’s hair, resting against his neck, the places where his skin is warm fromcontact, the taste of wine and magic on his lips.

By the time Taako comes back to himself, blurry andblinking, his head is bowed down to Kravitz’s shoulder.  The hand is still at the nape of his neck,looser now, lax, and Kravitz’s other hand is resting on Taako’s hip, thumbdescribing an arc over the line of the bone, like Kravitz is happy to just…liethere, feeling Taako’s weight on him and not doing a thing about it.  There’s a scar on Kravitz’s chest, just belowTaako’s cheek, like someone put a spike through his heart—the only mark onhim—and it makes Taako feel almost special to be so close to it, like Kravitzis sharing something with him.

Taako gives himself a few minutes of that, of the wayKravitz noses kisses into his hair and strokes gently over his skin.

It’s…nice.

Kravitz is nice.

Taako doesn’t let himself think about that anymore as herolls to the side with a sigh and casts Prestidigitation to clean up.  He also doesn’t let himself think about theway Kravitz’s fingers lingered in his hair, or the soft warmth in those red-liteyes.

“Thanks, bubbeleh,” Taako says, plastering on his bestgrin.  “Call me later, or whatever.”

Kravitz looks bemused. Oh, fucking god, he’s actually going to make Taako kick him out.  “Taako?”

“This was fun, we should do it again sometime,” Taako says,ignoring the way that weight settles back into his belly, ignoring the way theback of his mind kind of wants to curl into Kravitz’s side with a blanket overthem, ignoring the look of confusion shading to hurt on Kravitz’s face.  This was just sex.  Just physical.  There’s no reason for Kravitz to look likeTaako’s personally cancelled Candlenights.

Kravitz seems to be getting the picture, though, because heslowly sits up, propped up on one hand.  “I—Ican go,” he says, like there’s an offer there, rather than an impliedoutcome.  “If you want.”

“As opposed to what?” Taako arches an eyebrow at him.  There’sa moment of silence as Kravitz studies him, his head cocked at an angle, tryingto parse something, and Taako waves a languorous hand at him.  “It’s all right, thug, I’m not gonna take itpersonally.”

“I’m sorry,” Kravitz says, falling back into stiff formality,and he does a remarkably good job for someone still sitting naked in Taako’sbed.  The look of confused hurt has beenerased, his face a politely emotionless blank. “It’s been some time since I did this. What are you not taking personally?”

Ah, right.  Kravitzhas been a wandering skeleton bounty hunter since forever.  Culture clash or some shit.

“I knew what I was getting into,” Taako says, keeping hisface cheerful.  “Just sex, right?  And don’t get me wrong, the sex was prettyfucking choice, I’m happy to do that again whenever you have a few hours free,but you don’t have to worry about hurting my feelings or whatever.”

“Oh,” Kravitz says, quietly, and he stands, waves a hand,and his clothes sort of knit themselves back into being on his body, even histie perfectly knotted at his throat.  

He tucks both hands into his pockets, straightening up untilhe looks as forbidding and untouchable as he did the first time they met, hiseyes the only trace of any emotion as they linger on Taako’s face for a momentbefore they flicker away.  He bends downto catch Taako’s hand in his, and kisses the knuckles again—something lurchesinto Taako’s throat, words throwing themselves at his teeth from behind, someuseless stupid hey maybe you could stay,I could make you breakfast, did you know I’m a chef, and he bites them backmercilessly.

“If you ever need anything,” Kravitz says, still quiet, “callfor me.”

And then he gestures for his scythe and tears open the worldwith the blade, and he’s gone.

Taako lies down on his back and stares at the ceiling.  This is the easy thing to do, this is what heknew was going to happen.  Hell, giventhe circumstances, this might even have been the right thing to do.

So why does he feel like he just betrayed someone?

***

Taako’s not one for stewing. He’s not one for sitting and brooding and worrying about hisproblems.  He’s a master of the art oftaking any inconvenient emotion and kicking it off the nearest available cliff,never to be seen or considered again, because who has time for feelings, thesedays?  A Relic hunt would be excellent right about now, somelife-threatening shit to take his mind off everything, and by the time they gotdone being healed by someone other than Merle, he would have forgotten allabout this.  He would be more focused onwhether their fighter was finally going to kick the bucket—Taako needs a meatshield, all right, he’s a delicate little magic user, so if Magnus could livepast the age of forty for Taako’s sake, that would be amazing.

Unfortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a convenientlyapocalyptic artifact surfacing any time soon. If anything, things are calmer than usual, like the other two Relics aresquirreled away in some dark dungeon rather than out causing trouble.  The mood on the base is bright and confident,riding high on their successful rescue of Refuge, totally lacking in thetension that usually precedes a recovery mission.  Carey and Killian and Noelle spend all theirtime bounding cheerfully through the halls like baby deer.  Johann cracked a smile and laughed at a jokelast week.  There was a party on thequad.  Taako’s pretty sure he saw theDirector relaxing.

It’s loathsome.

It’s three days before Magnus asks Taako what’s wrong.  Taako rebuffs him easily and pawns him off onMerle, but it sticks with him.  Magnus isan empathetic guy, but he’s not a genius, and Taako’s not supposed to haveanything wrong to ask about.  

Five days after hooking up with Kravitz, Taako finds himselfin the Icosagon.  Training.

Taako does not train.  Beauty of Magic Missile: his aim doesn’t evenmatter.  Area effect spells are his bitch.  His ability to Fireball someone in the faceis entirely unrelated to his abilityto do pushups, Magnus.  Wizards do not train, they read some books and blow some shit up and call it aday.  Sometimes Taako deigns to do someactual calculations in order to maximize a spell’s efficacy, but that’s hislimit.

So when Taako realizes he’s halfway through a short swordtraining form that he barely remembers, he stops and considers that he mightneed to actually take steps to deal with this situation.

It’s just…he keeps thinking about that quiet oh as Kravitz stood up and it’sbothering him.  He’s not really sure why it keeps coming to mind, butwhenever he stands still and silent for a few seconds, it plays through hishead like a Fantasy Vine, a handful of seconds that just don’t quite makesense.

Kravitz had gotten what he wanted, right?  Company, affection, a roll in themetaphorical hay.  So who the hell gavehim permission to look at Taako likethat as he said oh and stood up toleave, is the real question here.

In Taako’s experience, the only real solutions to hisproblem are to get incredibly drunk or to actually interrogate the man himself.  In theory he could also just leave but avoiding the Grim Reapersounds like it would require a bit more effort than just wandering off the sideof the base.  Magnus and Merle wouldprobably come try to hunt him down, regardless.

And if he’s being totally honest he’s already tried thealcohol.  Avi brings the good shit tocompany parties.

“Yo, Krav,” Taako says, casting Levitate on his Stone ofFarspeech and giving it a flick to set it spinning.  He’s back in his room, with his feet proppedup on a desk that has never seen a scrap of Bureau-mandated paperwork and neverwill, if Taako has anything to do with it. “You busy, my dude?”

There’s a pause, long enough that Taako wonders if maybeKravitz isn’t near the Stone, before a voice answers.

“Taako?”

Kravitz sounds hesitant, and there’s a lift at the end ofTaako’s name that sounds like hope and kind of makes Taako want to throw theStone across the room and run.

“Who else, bone boy?”

“What can I do for you, Taako?”  Kravitz’s voice goes steely, and he asks, “Areyou in trouble?”

“What?  No!  I can go more than a week without gettingsucked into some kind of weird timeline bullshit, fuck you very much, and plusI have a Magnus for solving trouble, it would be cruel to deny him the chanceto…hit stuff.”  There’s a huff ofamusement on the other end, and a quiet shuffling sound.  “Krav, thug, I really gotta ask, does theGrim Reaper do paperwork?”

“Of course I do paperwork,” Kravitz says, a littleaffronted.  “Do you know how much work itis to keep files on necromancers and liches and whatever the hell you threeare?  Don’t you have to do paperwork forblowing up towns?”

“Magnus does paperwork,” Taako says, leaning his chair backon its rear legs.  “Sometimes I sign itif he asks real nice.  I dunno who doesMerle’s shit.”

“I should have known.” It sounds like Kravitz is smiling. Taako’s chest heats a little, a piece of charcoal flickering into anember, and shit, that’s not what he’s doing here.  “Also, it would be more accurate to call me a Grim Reaper.”  The warmth in Kravitz’s voice fades, and thefire in Taako’s chest follows.  “Is there…didyou—was there anything in particular that you wanted?”

“Yeah,” Taako says, and Magnus would be proud of him, hereally would, because Taako just fucking goesfor it, just rushes right in before he can think better of it.  “You want to come by?  Like, are you free right now?  To come to the moon?”

“Sure,” Kravitz says, and there’s a rustling sound, papersbeing moved around, before the Stone shuts off.

It’s barely a minute and a half later that the world ripsopen and Kravitz steps through, skin raveling itself into place over the smoothwhite bones of his skull and hands, his cloak fading away into his usualsuit.  The rift closes behind him, andKravitz is just standing there, hands in his pockets, looking unsure.

“Hey.”

“Hey, handsome,” Taako says, letting his chair thud backinto place.  “You want to do something?”

“Something—like what?” Kravitz isn’t an especially outgoing person, particularly since Taako’smajor points of comparison these days are a proselytizing cleric and the mostabsurdly friendly individual he’s ever known, but he seems more guarded thanbefore, almost like he’s expecting Taako to throw a spell at him again.  But he did come, when Taako called.

God, people were so much easier when Taako was younger.  He doesn’t really remember what changed—maybedoing the show made him overconfident—but he knows that when he was younger henever felt this clumsy and fumbling.

“Everything all right, Krav?” Taako asks, arching an eyebrowat him.

“Fine,” Kravitz says, and hesitates for a moment, and thenhe meets Taako’s gaze for the first time. “I don’t want to sleep with you,” he blurts out, fast, all in a rush,like he’s been planning it.  “Or, I mean,no, yes, I do, but not—I don’t—I think you’re confused?  About this?”

Taako opens his mouth with a fast retort, then snaps itshut, because he’s…he’s not sure what Kravitz is expecting from him there.  He makes a little go on gesture with one hand instead.

“I thought—I thought I had been pretty clear that yourbounties have been suspended,” Kravitz says, rocking back on his heels like hewants to pace but doesn’t know if it would be permitted.  “And Refuge is a nonissue, we already talkedabout that, so unless you and your friends start doing necromancy in your freetime, you’re not under my purview.  So—soI don’t want you to think that you’re making some kind of trade, here, with me,all right?”

“Some kind of—hang on, do people try to seduce the Grim Reaper?  Wow,”Taako muses, “I’ve got to admire that kind of confident crazy.”

A smile, faint but genuine, flickers over Kravitz’sface.  “Every once in a while someone triestheir luck.  Although having someonebypass any sort of seduction check and go straight for threats of tentacleporn, that was novel.”  The good humorfades, and Kravitz just looks tired and…lonely, Taako decides.  He’s spent a lot of his life feeling lonely,he knows what it looks like.  “And I don’twant you to be with me because—because you’re scared of me, or because youthink I expect something in order to keep your bounties suspended, or–”

“That, um.  Thatactually didn’t occur to me,” Taako interrupts, because Kravitz seems more thanready to keep up his nervous ramble indefinitely.  A surge of guilt rushes through Taako’s chestat the open relief on Kravitz’s face, and he sighs.  “I just—I just figured this was a casualthing.  Company, sex, not much else, youknow what I’m saying.”

“Is that what you want?” Kravitz asks, and the light behindhis eyes brightens as he focuses on Taako, until Taako imagines that he canfeel the weight of his stare, as cool and invulnerable as Kravitz’s handsaround his scythe.  “Company and sex andnothing else?”

“Hey, you know me, Taako’s easy.”  Taako waves a hand dismissively.  “I’ll take whatever.  What about you, thug, what do you want?”

Kravitz looks distant for a moment, then sits down on theedge of Taako’s bed, so that they’re facing each other, closer to eyelevel.  

“I really like you, Taako,” he says, and the sincerity inhis voice makes Taako want to kiss him, or maybe cast Blink and escape to awhole other plane—except, of course, that Kravitz is Kravitz and could probablyfollow him.  “It’s been—it’s been a reallylong time since I had mortal friends, let alone anything else, and I wasn’tmuch good at this while I was alive, either.”

“With that face?”  It’s wildly inappropriate given the tone, butoh god Taako can’t help himself,there’s no way that Kravitz wasn’t absolutely spoiled for choice during hislife.

Kravitz grins a little, reaching up to touch his cheek andjaw as if reminding himself of what he looks like.  “You’d be surprised.”

“Oh, I’d be fucking shocked,homie,” Taako says thoughtlessly, one hundred percent of his brain fullyoccupied with Kravitz’s words.

I really like you,Taako.  What the fuck is a personeven supposed to do with that.

“Taako,” Kravitz says, and Taako snaps back to the presentmoment.  Kravitz sounds like he’s maybesaid Taako’s name a few times.  “I just—ifyou’re not interested in dating me, you don’t have to worry about telling me,but I’d rather you be honest.”

“Are you,” Taako says slowly, lining up the same thoughts hehad before the date in a different order, “interested in dating me?”

Kravitz tips his head and says, “For someone so brilliantlytalented, you can be a bit dense.”

“Thank you.”

“Taako, you’re charming, and beautiful, and funny, and youhelp save the world.  Of course I’minterested in dating you.”  Kravitz looksdown at his hands, where they’re laced together in his lap, and he rubs a thumbup the line of a metacarpal, something that’s almost a nervous tick.  The pressure drags a line of white bonebehind it, until his dark skin knits itself back together.  “I would understand, of course, if you’relooking for something more casual.  I’mjust…I’m not built for it.”

God, Taako can’t deal with this.  This level of honesty is going to make him break out in fucking hives.  The way Kravitz glances up at him through hislashes, a tiny spark of hope in the black of his eyes, is like taking a MagicMissile straight to the chest.

“So, what, you want to hold my hand and cuddle and shit?”Taako demands, and he means it to come out harsh, but instead it sounds almostfragile.  

“If that’s okay with you.”

Taako scoffs.  “You’rea fucking sap.”

“Well, don’t tell anyone,” Kravitz says.  “I have a reputation to maintain.”

And then he offers Taako his hand, palm up, harmless andinviting.  I really like you, Taako.  It’sbeen a long time since someone made an offer like that, and it went so horrificallywrong last time Taako accepted more than a one-night stand.

But Kravitz is nice. And honest.  And he’s alreadytried to murder Taako and the others and then taken steps to make sure he doesn’thave to do it properly, which is a selling point, these days.  Half of everyone Taako knows has tried tomurder them, by accident or as a test or just because the three of them were inthe way.  

More than anything, though, Kravitz doesn’t say anything,doesn’t press, just sits there with his hand out as a silent offer, waiting forTaako to decide.

Kravitz’s hand is cold, still holding the chill of theastral plane.  Taako adds one more thingto his list of Grim Reaper Facts: his fingers fit perfectly with Taako’s.

[ramialkarmi]

CGI and AI are going to turbo-charge 'fake news' and make it far harder to tell what's real

Most people trust what they watch — but that won't always be the case.

Tech is being developed that will make it easy to create fake video footage of public figures or audio of their voice.

The developments aren't perfect yet, but they threaten to turbo-charge "fake news" and boost hoaxes online.

In years to come, people will need to be far more skeptical about the media they see.

LONDON — Late last year, some WikiLeaks supporters were growing concerned: What had happened to Julian Assange?

The then-45-year-old founder of the anti-secrecy publisher was no stranger to controversy. Since 2012, he has sheltered in the Ecuadorian Embassy in Knightsbridge, London, following allegations of sexual assault. (He denies them, and argues the case against him is politically motivated.) But the publication of leaked emails from Democratic Party officials in the run-up to the US presidential election saw Assange wield unprecedented influence while at the centre of a global media firestorm.

After the election, though, suspicions were growing that something had happened to him. Worried supporters highlighted his lack of public appearances since October, and produced exhaustive timelines detailing his activities and apparent "disappearance." They combined their efforts to solve the mystery together, on the Reddit community r/rWhereIsAssange.

Video interviews and photos of Assange were closely scrutinised amid speculation that they might have been modified with computer-generated imagery (CGI) — or faked entirely, as at least one YouTube analysis alleged.

"We need to look at the many glitches in that interview, and there were many for sure. Either terrible editing went on or CGI or whatever was just not fluid enough to make the grade. We need to understand why Assange's head looked like a cut and paste to his suit," one amateur sleuth wrote on Reddit.

Another investigator took an alternative approach: "I plan on watching the interview totally sober, and then vaping a whole bunch of weed and re-watching. I find that I can spot CGI or irregularities incredibly easily when I am really high."

This is not normal behaviour. When watching newsreel, or a clip of an interview on Facebook, most people don't give much thought as to whether the footage is real. They don't closely scrutinise it for evidence of elaborate CGI forgery.

But these concerns may not be confined to the paranoid fringes of the internet forever.

CGI and artificial intelligence (AI) are developing at a rapid pace, and in the coming years, it will become ever-more easy for hoaxsters and propagandists to create fake audio and video — creating the potential for unprecedented doubt over the authenticity of visual media.

"The output we see from these models ... are still crude and easily identified as forgeries, but it seems to be only a matter of refinement for them to become harder to discern as such," Francis Tseng, co-publisher of The New Inquiry and a curator of a project tracking how technology can distort reality, told Business Insider.

"So we'll see the quality go up, and like with other technologies, the costs will go down and the technology will become accessible to more people."

Early tech demos are a sign of what is to come

We're already living in an era of "fake news." President Trump frequently lashes out online at the "phony" news media. Hoax outlets are created by Macedonian teenagers to make a quick buck from ad revenue, and their stories go massively viral on platforms like Facebook. Public trust in the media has fallen to an all-time low.

But a string of tech demos and apps highlight how this problem seems likely to get much worse.

Earlier in July, University of Washington researchers made headlines when they used AI to produce a fake video of President Obama speaking, built by analysing tens of hours of footage of his past speeches. In this demo, called "Synthesizing Obama," the fake Obama's lips were synched to audio from another of his speeches — but it could have come from anywhere.

In a similar demo from 2016, "Face2face," researchers were able to take existing video footage of high-profile political figures including George W. Bush, Vladimir Putin, and Donald Trump and make their facial expressions mimic those of a human actor, all in real time.

Even your voice isn't safe. Lyrebird is voice-mimicking software that can take audio of someone speaking and use it to synthesise a digital version of their voice — something it showed off to disconcerting effect with demos of Hillary Clinton, Obama, and Trump promoting it. It's currently in development, and Adobe — the company behind Photoshop — is also developing similar tools, under the name "Project Voco."

And once you start to combine these technologies, things get really interesting — or worrying. Someone could synthesise a speech from President Trump using Lyrebird, then make a fake version of him generated with "Synthesising Obama"-style software deliver it.

You can quite literally put words into the mouth of any public figure.

It could undermine trust in everything you watch

Developers of this technology are awake to the dangerous possibilities of this tech. "Making these kinds of video manipulation tools widely available will have strong social implications. That is also the reason why we do not make our software or source code publically available," Justus Thies, who helped to develop Face2face, told Business Insider.

"[Imagine] kids having access to such a software — they would lift cyberbullying to a whole new level. You can also assume that the number of fake news will increase."

Supasorn Suwajanakorn, a researcher on "Synthesising Obama," agreed that it could be used to produce fraudulent material — but argues it could also lead to more skepticism among ordinary people: "It could potentially be used to create fake videos when combined with technology that can generate a person-specific voice. On the other hand, if such tools are widespread and well-known, people can be more cautious about treating video as a strong evidence. People know Photoshop exists, and no one simply believes photos. This could happen with videos."

This was echoed by Yaroslav Goncharov, CEO of photo-editing app FaceApp. People will just have to learn to stop taking videos at face value, he argued: "If ordinary people can create such content themselves, I hope it will make people pay more attention to verifying any information they consume. Right now, a lot of heavily modified/fake content is produced and it goes under the radar."

He added: "Before printers were available, people could assign much high credibility to printed materials than to handwritten ones. Now when most people have a printer at home, they won't believe in something just because it is printed."

There's a flipside to the fact that it will become easy to make photo-realistic fraudulent video: It will also cast some doubts on even legitimate footage. If a politician or celebrity is caught saying or doing something untoward, there will be an increasing chance they decide to argue the entire video is fabricated "fake news".

In October 2016, President Trump's presidential campaign was rocked by the "Access Hollywood" tape — audio of him discussing groping women, including the now-infamous line: "Grab them by the pussy." What if he could have semi-credibly claimed the entire thing was just an AI-powered forgery?

It's not all bad, however: Just think of the entertainment!

So should conscientious developers swear off this technology altogether? Not so fast — there are also numerous positive use-cases, from entertainment to video gaming.

Face2face suggested its techniques could be used in post-production in the film industry, or for creating realistic avatars for gaming. In the announcement of "Synthesising Obama," it is suggested that it could be used to reduce bandwidth during video chats and teleconferencing. (Don't bother streaming video — just send audio and synthesise the visuals instead!) Products like Lyrebird and Project Voco, meanwhile, could help people with speech disorders synthesise fluent and realistic speech on demand.

And Tseng also posits the tech could be used to "foster a wide culture of DIY entertainment: people editing clips from movies but replacing the dialogue or other elements in scenes or entirely synthesizing new clips by emulating actors and actresses."

But, he warns, developers still have a responsibility to take political issues into account. "Software development as a profession has grown so rapidly through so many informal channels that there is not much of a professional culture of ethics to speak of. Other engineering professions have developed pretty robust ethical standards, and those hold up because engineers trained in those professions go through a limited number of formal channels which expose them to those ethics. The boon of programming education is its decentralization and wide accessibility, but this also means people often pick up the skills without the necessary ethical frameworks to accompany them."

He added: "Anyone involved in the development of technology, directly or indirectly, has a responsibility to consider these issues, outright refuse to implement problematic technologies, or subvert them in some way."

The entertainment industry, of course, has long used CGI for entertainment purposes — and it is acutely aware of what further developments could herald. In December 2016, "Star Wars: Rogue One" came out, featuring a surprise appearance from actor Peter Cushing.

It was a particularly surprising appearance because Cushing had been dead for 22 years. His image was reconstructed using CGI overlaid on a real actor.

It wasn't a perfect recreation, but the stunt grabbed headlines, and spooked some other celebrities. Reuters reported at the time that its release led to actors "scrambling to exert control over how their characters and images are portrayed in the hereafter," negotiating contracts on how their image may or may not be used even after they die.

In January 2017, Lucasfilm even had to deny that it was planning to incorporate a CGI Carrie Fisher into the upcoming movie "Star Wars: The Last Jedi" after rumours that the studio was planning to get around the actress' death in December 2016 by making a digital version of her.

It's time to start getting ready

It's undeniable that developments in the coming years will heighten challenges people will face in finding and responsibly sharing media. In trying to solve these new challenges, everyone — journalists, developers, tech platforms, and ordinary people — all may have a role to place.

Technology already exists to cryptographically sign footage captured by a camera, so it can be verified when required. News outlets and organisations could perhaps one day "sign" their footage, so anyone can check its authenticity. No matter how convincing the fake, if it's not cryptographically fingerprinted, viewers would know something was wrong.

Face2face suggests its findings could be built upon to help "detect inconsistencies" in media and help identify fraudulent imagery.

Thies argued that big tech platforms like Facebook will have a duty to proactively police for fraudulent media: "Social media companies as well as the classical media companies have the responsibility to develop and setup fraud detection systems to prevent spreading / shearing of misinformation."

And as Goncharov and others suggested, it may force ordinary people to be more skeptical, and not take video and audio at face value — much like they wouldn't with a photo or screenshot today.

In January 2017, Assange read out a hash from the bitcoin blockchain (essentially a high-tech version of holding up today's newspaper) on a public livestream in a bid to prove he was still alive, and that the video hadn't been pre-recorded.

A decade from now, if recreating real-time imagery of public figures (or anyone else!) becomes trivial, such authentication may no longer be enough.

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