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dweemeister · 3 years

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NOTE: This is the third film released theatrically during the COVID-19 pandemic that I am reviewing – I saw Raya and the Last Dragon at the Regency Theatres Directors Cut Cinema’s drive-in operation in Laguna Niguel, California. Because moviegoing carries risks at this time, please remember to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by your local, regional, and national health officials.

Raya and the Last Dragon (2021)

As Raya and the Last Dragon, directed by Don Hall and Carlos López Estrada and written by Qui Nguyen and Adele Lim, made its theatrical and streaming bow, the United States was grappling with a wave of highly-publicized hate incidents towards Asian-Americans in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic. This spike in racially-motivated verbal abuse, assaults, and homicides began with the pandemic and, frustratingly, had only been receiving national attention in these last few weeks. Despite the nation’s racist origins entwined with chattel slavery of black people and its continued unequal treatment of minorities including Asian-Americans, I am not qualified to say if the U.S. is “more” or “less racist” than other countries. But I can hardly think of any other people that interrogate racial inequality and oppression as much (and as publicly) as Americans – an undeniable strength. There was no way Raya and the Last Dragon’s cast and crew could have anticipated the film’s fraught timing, but the film provides a much-needed, positive, and heavily flawed, action-adventure romp drawn from Southeast Asian cultures.

The very notion that Walt Disney Animation Studios was attempting to craft a film using an amalgam of Southeast Asian cultures stoked my excitement and dread. Southeast Asian cultures – including, but not limited to, Cambodia, Indonesia, Laos, Malaysia, Myanmar, the Philippines, Thailand, and Vietnam – are often lumped into those of East Asia (China, Korea, Japan), which dominate Asian-American depictions or Asian-influenced media in the United States. What gave me pause is that Disney’s track record in films featuring non-European-inspired characters and places inspired by non-European cultures is mixed. Aladdin (1992) and Pocahontas (1995) are aggregations of (and indulge in stereotypes towards) Arabs and indigenous Americans alike, especially in their presentations of “savagery” (Pocahontas in particular is guilty of false equivalences).

Cultural aggregations in fictional settings are not insensitive, per se. Yet, Disney’s stated intentions on this film are undermined by a voice cast ensemble almost entirely composed of actors of Chinese and Korean descent – you can bring up Adele Lim’s response to the voice casting controversy all you want, but her response contradicts the film’s promotion. Amid its gorgeous production and character design, Raya manages to avoid the worst mistakes of its Disney Renaissance predecessors. But its hero’s journey is too cluttered and too littered with the anachronistic and metatextual jokes plaguing the last decade’s Disney animated features.

Five centuries before the events of Raya and the Last Dragon, the land of Kumandra saw its people live in harmony with dragons. That relationship, however, would be devastated by the appearance of the Druun – a swirling, purple vortex that turns living beings into stone. In the conflict against the Druun, the last dragon, Sisu (Awkwafina), makes a fateful sacrifice to save Kumandra by concentrating the dragons’ collective power into a magical orb. Soon after, Kumandra’s five tribes – Fang, Heart, Spine, Tail, and Talon (named after parts of a dragon) – fight amongst each other for control of the orb (Heart eventually gains possession of it), effectively partitioning the land. In the present day, the Heart tribe’s Chief Benja (Daniel Dae Kim) proposes and hosts a feast-summit to discuss and heal Kumandra’s divisions. Benja has taught his daughter, Raya (Kelly Marie Tran), the ways of a warrior and the necessity for Kumandra’s tribes to realize their oneness. At the feast-summit, Raya befriends Namaari (Gemma Chan; Jona Xiao as young Namaari), the daughter of Fang Chief Virana (Sandra Oh). Predictably, Namaari betrays her new friend in an orchestrated ploy to pilfer the dragons’ orb for Fang. Just as the Druun make a surprise invasion of Heart, the botched heist sees the orb break into five, and each of the tribes makes off with part of the orb. It will be up to Raya to recover the other four pieces of the orb, lest Kumandra succumb to the Druun.

The film’s screenplay is, charitably, a mess. Though Qui Nguyen (primarily a playwright) and Adele Lim (2018’s Crazy Rich Asians) are the credited screenwriters, Raya’s phalanx of story credits (mostly full-time, white employees at the Disney studios) suggest studio interference. Raya seems as if it is trying to cleanly differentiate certain tribes as based on a certain Southeast Asian nation. Instead, it comes off as a brew of mish-mashed parts (this problem extends to the otherwise stunning animation). With the exception of those from the militant Fang, the bit characters from the various tribes do not behave any differently from the members of other tribes. The partition of Kumandra, five hundred years before the events of Raya, feels like as if it had never existed for lengthy stretches in this film.

After Kelly Marie Tran, as Raya, narrates the mythology and history of Kumandra in the opening minutes, the film’s structure tethers itself predictably to the monomyth. The fracturing of the dragon’s orb into five parts sends Raya onto a tedious adventure: the physical travel to a new part of Kumandra, introduction of a sidekick (all of them are comic reliefs), an action setpiece involving a necessary assist from new sidekick, and the integration of that sidekick into Raya’s ever-growing party. Lather, rinse, repeat. To squeeze the four other tribes into the film’s 107-minute runtime and set up a climax and resolving actions results in a frantically-paced movie. Almost all of the film’s dialogue is subservient to its structure, the hero’s journey. This disallows the viewer to learn more about our lead and her fellow adventurers. In arguably the most important example in how the dedication to story structure undermines the characters, take Raya’s repeated mentions to her newfound confidants that she has difficulty trusting others. Six years have passed since the day of Namaari’s betrayal and Raya’s discovery of Sisu. How has Raya’s sense of distrust evolved over time, and how does it manifest towards those of other tribes? Does it appear in moments without consequence to her quest, in gusts of casual cruelty? In terms of characterization, Raya is showing too little and telling just the basics – a dynamic that also applies to the film’s most important supporting characters.

Ever since Tangled (2010), the films of the Disney animated canon have increased their use of metatextual and anachronistic humor (e.g. Kristoff’s comment about Anna’s engagement to a person she just met in 2013’s Frozen and Maui’s Twitter joke in 2016’s Moana that still makes me gnash my teeth when I think about it). Invariably, the success of the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) has seen its brand of pathos-destroying humor bleed into the Disney animated canon and Star Wars. Like so many films in the Disney animated canon, Raya takes place in a fantastical location in a never-time far removed from the present. From the moment Raya meets Sisu, the circa-2020s humor is ceaseless. For Disney animated movies set in fantastical worlds, this sort of humor suits films that are principally comedies, such as The Emperor’s New Groove (2000) – a work that owes more to Looney Tunes than anything Disney has created. Instead, Raya’s comedy will suit viewers who frequent certain corners of the Internet, “for the memes.” Do Disney’s animation filmmakers believe the adults and children viewing their films so impatient and unintelligent about human emotions? That they will not accept a scene that deals honestly with betrayal, disappointment, heartbreak, or loss unless there is a snide remark or visual gag inserted within said scene or shortly afterward?

Raya seems like a film set to portray its scenarios with the gravity they require. But overusing Awkwafina’s Awkwafina-esque jokes and a DreamWorks- or Illumination Entertainment-inspired infant causing meaningless havoc will subvert whatever emotions Nguyen and Lim are attempting to evoke. These statements are not arguing that Raya and Disney’s animated films should be humorless, that Disney should stop casting an Awkwafina or an Eddie Murphy as comic relief. Instead, Raya is another case study in how Disney’s brand of ultramodern humor is overtaking their films’ integral dramatics. Raya is noisy, clamorous – no different than anything Disney has released in the last decade, save Winnie the Pooh (2011).

Production designers Helen Mingjue Chen, Paul A. Felix, and Cory Loftis have worked on films like Wreck-It Ralph (2012), Big Hero 6 (2014), or Zootopia (2016). Each of these films feature glamorous, near-future metropolises or sleek digital worlds. Where the tribespeople of Kumandra might not be behaviorally-differentiated, the color coding, lighting, and biomes of each of the five lands comprising Kumandra ably distinguishes Fang, Heart, Spine, Tail, and Talon from each other. As if taking cues from the production designs of Big Hero 6’s San Fransokyo and, to some extent, The King and I (1956), it is difficult to pin down specific influences on the clashing architectural styles within the lands, in addition to the unusually empty and cavernous palaces and temples and varying costumes. As picturesque as some of these lands are, the art direction does not help to empower the characteristic of the tribes and their native lands. Nor does James Newton Howard’s thickly-synthesized grind of an action score, which prefers to accompany the film’s excellent combat scenes rather than stake a clearer thematic identity for its own. Howard uses East and Southeast Asian instrumentations and influences in his music, but, disappointingly, they are heavily processed through synthetic elements and are played underneath the film’s sound mix.

Character art directors Shiyoon Kim (Tangled, 2018’s Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse) and Ami Thompson (2017’s MFKZ, 2018’s Ralph Breaks the Internet) embrace the (generally) darker and varying skin complexions of Southeast Asian peoples. The skin textures are among the best ever produced in a Disney CGI-animated feature, and the variety of face shapes – although still paling in comparison to the best hand-drawn features – is a pleasure to witness.

The number of films starring actors/voice actors of Asian descent (all-Asian or majority-Asian), animated or otherwise, and released by a major Hollywood studio makes for a brief list. Raya and the Last Dragon joins an exclusive club that includes the likes of The Dragon Painter (1919), Go for Broke! (1951), Flower Drum Song (1961), The Joy Luck Club (1993), and Crazy Rich Asians (2018). Among those movies, Raya is the only entry specifically influenced by Southeast Asian cultures. Its cast may be headlined by Kelly Marie Tran (whose skill as a voice actor is one of the film’s most pleasant surprises), but most of the roles went to those of Chinese or Korean descent. No disrespect intended towards Gemma Chan, Sandra Oh, or veteran actress Lucille Soong, but the majority East Asian cast only serves to further monolithize Asians – as the amalgamated story, plot details, and production design have already done. I will not second-guess any fellow person of Southeast Asian descent if they feel “seen” through Raya. What a compliment that would be for this film. How empowering for that person. But the life experiences of those of East Asian and Southeast Asian descent are markedly different. Disney’s casting decisions in Raya – all in the wake of the disastrous Western and Eastern reception of the live-action Mulan (2020) – have revealed a fundamental lack of effort or understanding about the possibilities of a sincere attempt at representation.

To this classic film buff, the discourse surrounding Raya strikes historical chords. When Flower Drum Song was released to theaters, the film was labeled by the American mainstream as the definitive Asian-American movie. Opening during the height of the American Civil Rights Movement, the film (and the musical it adapts) looked like nothing released by Hollywood (and on Broadway) at that time. In that midcentury era of rising racial consciousness and the lack of opportunities for Asian-Americans in Hollywood, the marking of Flower Drum Song as the absolute pan-Asian celebration was bound to happen – however unfair the distinction. Even though Rodgers and Hammerstein (two white Jewish men who made well-meaning, problematic attempts to craft musicals decrying racial prejudice and social injustices) composed the musical and zero Asian people worked behind the camera, those labels remained. With some differences in who wrote the source material, The Joy Luck Club and Crazy Rich Asians have followed Flower Drum Song’s fate in their categorizations. Will Raya? Time will be the judge, the only judge.

Before time passes judgment, we have some present-day hints. Though not released by major studios, the quick succession of The Farewell (2019) and Minari (2020) point to an experiential specificity that Raya attempts, but never comes close to achieving. Whether through aggregation or specificity, Hollywood benefits from the perspectives of underrepresented groups. Widespread claims that Raya too closely copies Nickelodeon’s Avatar: The Last Airbender (2005-2008) reflect that dearth of East Asian and Southeast Asian representation in American media. For too many, ATLA is the Asian fantasy. These simplistic observations and bad-faith criticisms (one could rebuke Disney’s vaguely-European princess films on the same principles, but I find this as lazy as the bad-faith ATLA criticisms) also suggest a lack of understanding that Asian-inspired stories are drawing from similar tropes codified by Asian folklore and narratives centuries old. If one reads through this reviewer’s write-ups, you will find an abiding faith in the major Hollywood studios – past, present, and future – to be artistically daring and to genuinely represent long-excluded persons. Many might see this faith as misplaced. But even in the major studios’ flawed attempts to depict underrepresented groups, like Raya, they concoct astonishing sights and form moving links to the cinematic past.

Assuming you have not skipped to this paragraph, the write-up that you have read may seem scathing to your eyes. Raya is no Disney classic – there has not been one for some time. However, I thoroughly enjoyed my first viewing of Raya. After a few weeks’ worth of keeping my agony private over the recent uproar over attacks on persons of Asian descent in America, it was a surreal experience to see even an amalgamated celebration of Southeast Asian culture. Over this last year, we have lost people and things that emboldened us and ennobled us. In this season of unbelonging and otherizing feelings for Asians in America, Raya’s timing is fortuitous. It is emboldening and ennobling.

My rating: 6/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

#Raya and the Last Dragon #Don Hall #Carlos López Estrada #Kelly Marie Tran #Awkwafina #Izaac Wang #Gemma Chan #Daniel Dae Kim #Benedict Wong #Sandra Oh #Thalia Tran #Lucille Soong #Alan Tudyk #Qui Nguyen #Adele Lim #James Newton Howard #Disney #My Movie Odyssey

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warsofasoiaf · 4 years

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The Celtic Tiger - A Kaiserreich Ireland AAR Chapter 5: The Red Hand and the White Dove

A good general never let his successes linger too long. The key to winning a war was never stopping until the final objective was secured, which meant that no soldier could afford to celebrate his success.

2 October 1939 - Home of Michael Collins, County Cork, Ireland

The Irish had successfully repulsed multiple combined invasions from two great powers, and had successfully maintained the territorial integrity of their island. Britain had shifted their attention to the Low Countries and France had placed most of their forces along the German border or along the south of France in Marseilles. It had been days since a single Union plane or ship had come anywhere close to Irish territory. The unity that such a feat had engendered had been nothing short of exceptional. Some foreign workers had evacuated, but plenty had stayed behind to continue to help provide much needed manpower for Ireland in the face of invasion. Wealthy Irishmen bought war bonds by the armful, older men volunteered to help man civil defense spotting towers to supplement the radar stations, and workers had seamlessly integrated a full three-shift rotation to speed production along. Yet this unity had not been total, and one faction began to cause more problems.

It had been no secret that the Orangeists in Ulster had been agitating for a return to the British in Canada. To hear the rhetoric, Ulsterites needed to do everything they could to allow the exiled Windsors to return to their throne. Ireland was an ideal staging ground for the Entente, an unsinkable aircraft carrier capable of sending the entirety of the Entente’s aerial forces against the Union and the Communards. G2 had done wonders in infiltrating the Union, and the Irish Republican Army was one of the most experienced forces in the world, certainly when it came to fighting Mosley. All of that value, they argued, must have been put to use in the service King Edward. Once the United Kingdom had been restored, Ulster could be returned to the Crown, and all would be well, if you asked the Orangeists. The Unionists were seeing attendance at their rallies steadily grow and grow, before long the entirety of the Six Counties would be UUP.

The notion of joining both the Entente and the Reichspakt had been floated in the Dail. It made practical sense to join one of them, and gain the support of large and powerful armies and economies at the Irish back. Collins had exhausted plenty of political capital to shoot down those proposals, reading the refusals of the Kaiserreich and the exiled British government when the Mosley first declared war. Collins didn’t like it, it gave too much red meat to the na hAiséirghe crowd and could embolden their efforts against his immigration reforms, but it gained him a reprieve from those demanding that Ireland join one of the two European factions. Joining one would invite the Union to continue bombing and invading to prevent exactly the scenario that the Ulsterites hoped to come to pass.

With the war on, it was the perfect time to move. If it wasn’t such a threat, Collins would appreciate the irony, since the Weltkrieg was what had enabled Irish independence in the first place. He now sat in the same position as the British Empire did twenty years ago. The moment had made his mouth taste like metal, almost an involuntary moment of revulsion. The promises of 1921 seemed to be coming true at the worst possible time. The confirmation of Ulster would have to take place, one way or the other.

Now that the bombings were over, and life was attempting to return to normal, agitation against the Irish government had returned. James Craig had viciously denounced the Collins government, declaring that Collins had hoped to hobble Belfast, and that the Northern Irish would be kept out of the riches of Collins’s economic policies. The Saorstat Brewery, the Open for Business Initiative, the agricultural reforms in Connacht, the zinc mines in the center of the country, it was economic prosperity for Catholics only, Craig had made a grand show to a roaring crowd of Unionists and Ulster Volunteers. Collins’s ultimate goal, so Craig spelled out, was the economic subservience of the Northern Irish, to let them wither until they surrender who they are.

“Everything I’ve done for Belfast and it’s still not enough. The steelworks, the Short Brothers, none of it will ever be enough for James Craig.” Collins grumbled to an empty room.

---

16 November 1939 - Belfast, Ireland

The latest news wasn’t good. The Unionists, citing unequal treatment by Catholic employers, had planned to stage a large-scale sympathetic strike, which threatened everything from small restaurants all the way to Harland and Wolff. The Ulster Shipwright and Marine Workers Association, by far the largest labor union in Belfast and de facto head of any large-scale labor activity, had misgivings about striking in the middle of a war, and had strongly pushed a compromise plan. Smaller businesses unrelated to the war effort like restaurants and other service industries would institute a general strike, while shipyards, airfields, and other critical war industries would stress work-to-rule behavior and malicious compliance. As a token of good faith in their statement of grievances, the workers promised that they would maintain all repair facilities for the An tSeirbhís Chabhlaigh and the An tAerchór at full functionality; they would do nothing that would critically endanger Ireland’s defense in the wake of Union aggression. Despite this, the plan ultimately was for naught. A fight broke out between the Unionists and a large group of unknown men shouting that they were betraying the war effort. No one had been seriously injured, merely cuts, broken bones, and a bunch of filled beds at Belfast Medical.

Rumors had abounded at what exactly happened and who was involved. Collins received his share of the blame, plenty believed that he had ordered the strikebreaking action to intimidate the Ulster Volunteers under the veneer of plausible deniability. Even more outlandish conspiracy theorists suggested that Collins had organized the labor action itself, to give his strikebreakers the reason they needed to kick a couple of teeth in without actually causing significant damage to the war effort and delegitimize the Ulster Volunteers and the labor unions in one fell swoop to prevent reaching out to the Dominion or the Union. The Catholics loudly protested that it must have been the Ulster Unionists who struck the first blow, hypocritically demanding the right to protest but denying it to the Irish nationalists in a rehash of the old Irish Penal Law system. Most however, thought it was just strikebreaking, squads hired by business owners to break up the labor action. Either way, it wasn’t good for the Collins government.

This had come not long after the bank of Ireland had been robbed in Belfast, gaining plenty of money to continue to fund dissident activity within the Six Counties. The Gardai had been unable to find where the money had gone, it had almost certainly been laundered through businesses in the North. No one could prove that it was the Unionists who had robbed it, but everyone was convinced that it was the case. With the Irish budgets already stretched thin, the loss of the cash reserves in Belfast had stung deeply. Angry Irish citizens had demanded that the government guarantee their account holdings and punish those responsible. Collins sympathized, but inflation was a dangerous beast to wrestle with already, he couldn’t imagine the headache he would have to deal with if he started securing private holdings during the war.

No matter the truth of everything that had happened in Ulster, it was bad for Collins. This sort of thing could only hurt the war effort. The last thing he needed was James Craig hoping to secure himself by latching on to the Union, or declaring war on Ireland and inviting in the British crown. “Tighten restrictions, offer the usual sympathies, promise an investigation. Let’s make nice before this gets any worse.” Collins ordered, hoping to stave off catastrophe.

---

20 December 1939 - County Antrim, Ireland

It was starting to look as if it would be an armed conflict after all.

Derry had seen the first problems. A prominent Unionist activist had been stabbed in the night and left to bleed in a gutter, dying in the pre-dawn hours of a cold December morning and undiscovered until a morning street-cleaning crew found him during their shift. The Gardai had no leads, which had only mobilized the Unionists further. There had been no leads because there had been no investigation. The Gardai fully supported the murder of prominent Unionists; it allowed them to subjugate the population without fear of uprising or uproar. No doubt, had a Irish Republican loyalist been murdered, the perpetrator would have been found, arrested, and sentenced to death under wartime emergency measures.

Orangeists had been seeing a steady increase in support from Protestants in the North. Intelligence reports from police units had noted steady increases in recruiting and donations. Hardliners were urging the police to crack down on the movement, but absent evidence of a specific crime, Northern Irish advocacy groups had been a right guaranteed in the 1925 Constitution. The Gardai had to contend themselves with attempting to trace the money from the Bank of Ireland robbery and seeing if they could identify the specific groups that were causing trouble. If the perpetrators could be discovered, the Ulster Volunteers would have to disavow them and perhaps cause distress within their own movement.

The Irish nationalists despised Collins’s plans. It was war and the Ulster Volunteers were committing treason against the state. If the Ulster unions took the strikebreaking as a means to invite Mosley in, he’d have a secure beachhead, or James Craig might reach out to King Edward and slowly invite a peacekeeping force in. Neither idea seemed particularly feasible to Collins, but the fear of such possibilities was creating a lot of doomsaying, and that was enough. His success against Mosley had taught a valuable lesson: impression could mean far more than reality.

A concert hall in County Antrim saw the next bloody episode. Masked men shouting pro-Ulster slogans opened fire, killing members of a Dublin band and concert-goers alike who had been playing a Christmas benefit. No one from that crime was caught, as sympathetic Ulsterites had been able to smuggle the men underground. Investigators hadn’t yet been able to discover who the gunmen actually were. The pictures reminded Collins uncomfortably of what he saw in Galway and Sligo, how long would be before Irish would be doing the same to Irish? Rounding up and executing them in a field like they were sheep or cattle, it sickened Collins to his core. Craig had remained silent on the matter, but the Irish Catholics in the North were incredibly frightened. Even the foreigners were frightened of being caught in the crossfire, and that led Collins to one inescapable conclusion: he was losing control.

“Institute a stronger curfew, devote more money to investigations. Also let’s see if we can’t do something to undercut the Volunteer’s support among the Northerners, make them focus their efforts on fighting the Union. Take out loans if you have to; this needs to end now.”

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17 January 1940 - Belfast Ireland

It was a grim day, and the dark clouds had seemed to be a herald for bad omens.

After the concert hall massacre, the Ulster Unionist Party had quieted down, but only for a short time. No progress had been made, and rumors had circulated that the UUP weren’t going to send any sacrificial lamb even if they disagreed with the action. The Unionists had sought to organize a large-scale march in Belfast. Plenty within Collins’s government urged him to quash it entirely under emergency war powers, a large assembly could be considered too great a risk from aerial bombardment. Yet with the threat of British bombardment being reduced, Collins had opted not to give the Ulsterites more reason to call him an unconstitutional tyrant.

When the news of it reached the Catholic minority in Belfast, they predictably demanded an extra defensive precaution. The sporadic outbreaks of violence meant that the Catholics feared that the march would become a riot, and the Ulster Unionists, while not proven to be connected to the murders in Antrim, were almost certainly guilty of abetting it. The Gardai hadn’t been able to stop the violence, and with the march they would be woefully outnumbered and unable to protect anyone if anything got out of hand. Collins had ordered the 3rd Limerick Rifles to strategic points, with Eoin O’Duffy at the command center. The 3rd Limerick was a mix of O’Duffy’s old guard, men that had served him since 1917 which now comfortably resided in senior leadership and NCO positions, and young recruits that had signed on near the beginning of the Internationale War, out of training and dispersed to different combat units so that they might benefit from the veterans that had been fighting in the war from the outset and absorbed the new techniques and methods of waging war.

The latter category was populated by Dean MacCabe, a fresh recruit among many. He was greener than his uniform, and had been nervous about fighting the war. Rather than wait to be drafted, Dean had signed up for the infantry to serve his homeland. In truth, he’d rather have been in a coastal fort on Clew Bay, but his country needed him here, making sure that nothing happened during the protest march. Fortunately so far, the worst that seemed to happen was a bit of name-calling. Dean himself would have been happy to have given as good as he got, but he needed to keep his cool. Level heads were needed, and he needed to prove himself worthy of the uniform.

The rain had already hampered visibility greatly, and with everyone wearing long coats it was almost maddening to tell who, if anyone, was concealing a weapon under their raincoat. With so many people on the street, it was next-to-impossible to pick out faces of known Ulster Volunteers or militant UUP’ers in the crowd. Sometimes people spoke to each other and pointed at the 3rd Limerick. Were they pointing them out in signal for an attack, or just commenting on the fact that they were there? A woman walking by with a baby carriage stopped to play with the infant inside. Was that genuine, or was it a signal pointing out the best angle of attack? Dean started to sweat out of fear, mixing with the rainwater that was snaking its way inside his own raincoat. Everything could be a signal for a waiting attack, everyone could be an enemy. He had orders to fire if fired upon, but felt so exposed that he wouldn’t get a chance to fire second.

Periodic glances to his pocketwatch gave him grounding but seconds ticked on agonizingly slowly as he kept watch. His fellows were just as worried as he was, he could see in their faces. The old NCO’s seemed to be surer, but that could just be the experience in their eyes. This was not so much war as it was psychological torture, young men signing up to placed in the rain to fear when the next sudden outbreak of death could come, and it could come from anywhere. It had only been six minutes since he last looked at his watch.

Bottles and rocks started to be thrown at the 3rd Limerick’s position now, but was it testing their readiness, or merely rowdy Unionists too deep in their cups? And how quickly could the latter turn into a full-blown attack. All it took was one man to draw, and Dean MacCabe could be dead on the ground. Every time he saw something suspicious, he debated looking to his comrades for guidance, but if he had, would that mean that he would leave himself exposed, and he, or one of his brothers in the unit, could be killed? Even a moment’s lapse of concentration could be lethal, and so Dean MacCabe needed to maintain focus. Finally, the drunks had either run out of bottles or found something else interesting to do, the bottles gradually tapered off from two in the air, to one, to none. MacCabe looked at his watch. Nine minutes.

“Eyes front, we’ve got something,” came the gruff voice of the sergeant, and Dean snapped out of his reverie. There was movement in the crowd, a group of toughs approaching square to the Limerick Rifles position. Dean’s nerves were fraying, and Dean did not plead for what was before him to be something genuine or a false alarm. All he wanted was this wretched duty to be over, to go back to the barracks, drink himself into a stupor, and forget that this day had ever happened. The toughs began to chant, and MacCabe stole a second to look at his watch.

Two minutes.

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18 January 1940 - Áras an Uachtaráin, Dublin, Ireland

Bloody Wednesday. That’s what the papers were calling what had happened at Belfast. Only a handful dead, more wounded, but it didn’t matter if no one was hurt: the Irish Republican Army had fired on Ulstermen. Weapons were found on the bodies, but eyewitnesses swore they saw mutually contradicting versions of events as they unfolded.

Collins made a public speech expressing sorrow for the loss of life, and vowed to discover what had happened. Only one man, above all else, could be trusted to treat the matter with the integrity that such a matter required. Richard Mulcahy, Ceann Foirne na bhFórsaí Cosanta, temporarily ceded his command position as Marshal of the Defense of Ireland to Liam Lynch, to take up a commission to investigate the matter. James Craig had wanted nothing to do with it and refused to offer any official support. Luckily for Collins, the Lord Mayor of Belfast had offered his full support for the commission provided Belfast police could participate, almost certainly committing political suicide in the process. One mayor seemed to stand between the country and civil war, and that mayor was a damn welcome sight to Collins eyes. The UUP depended on local support in Belfast, a mayor supporting the Commission would mean that until he was inevitably ousted in a no-confidence vote, Collins could act to head off any potential war.

It wouldn’t be long coming if he didn’t act quickly. G2 had intercepted comminiques to the Dominion of Canada that were almost certainly conducted on Craig’s behalf. Nothing sinister on its own, mere expressions of concern for Irish Unionists in the wake of the events of Bloody Wednesday. More concerning were the trade unions reaching out to the Union across the Irish Sea. Only the fringe socialists campaigned for syndicalism after Mosley’s invasion, but that crowd started to gain more support among the trade unions after the strikebreaking action, and it would only get worse if the common man in the North figured that Mosley was the lesser evil.

“Go on, and come back with what you can. Spend whatever money you need, do whatever you can to make peace. We aren’t going to survive any more invasions if we’re fighting in the Six Counties.”

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1 Feburary, 1940 - Special Session of the Dail, Dublin, Ireland

The Mulcahy Commission had returned surprising, and utterly damning results.

O’Duffy had asserted in his after-action reports that the Unionists had initiated violence, taking advantage of a minor street altercation to ambush a stationed unit. After receiving fire, O’Duffy had reinforced his men. Once the Ulsterites had started to take fire, they fled into the crowds, which quickly had become chaotic. The entire mess had taken less than 30 seconds, but they were 30 seconds of absolute madness.

Mulcahy’s findings concluded the opposite. He had stated that it had appeared that one of O’Duffy’s men fired the first shots, the Ulsterites had responded, and had placed weapons among the dead to minimize the risk that any could have been identified as an unarmed civilian. No one in the IRA detachment that had been fired upon would come forward to support Mulcahy’s findings, and most credible witnesses were unable to determine whether one or the other was true; most were paying attention to the parade and saw the firefight only after the first shots were fired.

The implications for the Irish Republican Army was huge. If O’Duffy was guilty, it would mean that a high-ranking member of the IRA had conspired to attack Protestant Irishmen. Before now, the government had not been involved in violence against citizens in the North in ten years, since the Northern Campaign. Now, it could have confirmed that there would be no regularization of their status, that they would always be second-class citizens in the Republic, and their only choices were rebellion or slow destruction.

“We respect the Commission and its findings. The Republic of Ireland owes a debt of gratitude to Richard Mulcahy, the Right Honorable Lord Mayor of Belfast Crawford McCullagh, and the investigators who have worked many hours to discover the truth.” Collins announced on the steps of the Dail. “There is nothing that can bring back those poor men and women who died that fateful day. All we can do is labor on in their stead. The Republic of Ireland will compensate the families of those lost, hold trials of the perpetrators, and hold them in our prayers. We cannot undo this, but we can endeavor to build something from this.”

The Bloody Wednesday trials, as they came to be known, were largely simple affairs. Testimony was mercifully brief; there was no need to be lurid or voyeuristic in The young men in the division, who had followed the orders of their superiors, were convicted of manslaughter. The officers and NCO’s on scene, who were of higher rank and ordered the shooting, had higher sentences. That only left Eoin O’Duffy himself, who adamantly maintained his innocence and dismissed the evidence against him arranging any sort of conspiracy as spurious. The prosecution had attempted to cite him for command responsibility, but the Hague Conventions had been rather vague on the notion, and the Peace With Honor had looked to avoid punishing soldiers for their actions near the end of the Weltkrieg. No one could argue that opening fire on civilians and placing weapons on them to cover up the crime wasn’t beyond the scope of normal command duties. If there wasn’t ironclad proof, the IRA would see it as Collins betraying his own for the sake of making nice with Ulster, the corruption of Collins the soldier to Collins the politician who threw his soldiers under the bus.

“They were your soldiers too, Eoin! You trained them! You’re the one betraying them. The Ulsterites are Irish too.”

Ultimately, O’Duffy was sentenced to life imprisonment, after being cashiered from the Irish Republican Army. Collins didn’t see it as a victory. If he had sent Mulcahy instead of O’Duffy, how many more lives would have been saved? What could he do, to build a united Ireland in the wake of such bloodshed.

“Call Mr. McCullagh. This is my last shot to avoid losing Ireland.”

---

14 September 1940 - Belfast, Ireland

“With the establishment of the Parliament of Ulster and the transformation of the Republic into the Federal Republic of Ireland, all Irish people can truly be thought of as being weavers of the grand Irish tapestry. We thank the government of Michael Collins for establishing this institution to ensure that the Northern Irish and Protestant peoples of this great country can show and share their ways of life, and the distinct traditions that have become part of our life can become part of Ireland’s. The Cultural Unity Commission represents a tangible step on the path to the vision of our great flag. One nation, Catholic and Protestant, with the eternal flag of peace between them.” -Gerald McCullagh, First Minister of the Ulster Parliament

It was a pretty speech, but McCullagh had quieted down the UUP protests. There had almost been a complete schism between McCullagh and Craig, and Craig’s advanced age had not helped him maintain control of the party. A younger generation had been able to portray McCullagh as out of touch, wanting to reunite with a land that had fled to Canada to escape the syndicalists. Worse, they hadn’t come to support Ireland when she called for support, but Michael Collins had fought, and fought well.

Collins had established the Ulster-Scots as its own language along with English and Irish Gaelic. It had been a nightmare to organize during wartime, at one point he had joked that he spent more time trying to figure out how to translate official government manuals than he had in pursuing the fight against the Union of Britain in the past month. The gesture had surprised the moderates in the UUP, and got them to the negotiating table when the timetable for phasing in the new language was given to them. Economic gestures hadn’t worked, but Collins saw more success with political measures meant to promote Ulsterites in Ireland, first with the establishment of their own language and then with the establishment of the Cultural Unity Commission. The resolution of their status, the question that had been on the table since 1925, was being sorted. Ireland would not simply tolerate her Protestant citizens, but celebrate them. This had enraged the Irish Catholic League and other populist Catholic movements, but Collins hadn’t been worried; they had been fringe groups to begin with and banned from the Irish Republican Army.

The last step had been to federalize Ireland into four regional areas with four Parliaments, Connacht, Leinster, Munster, and Ulster. Dublin would still be the centralized seat of the national government, responsible for matters of national interest such as the military, foreign policy, and inter-province commerce, but more domestic matters would be ceded to the local Parliaments. The full resumption of federal duties would be brought into effect when the war was over, but as a gesture of support, Collins had reshuffled the War Cabinet to include ministers from each of the four provinces. Oddly, this development had been celebrated with greater fanfare within Connacht and Munster than in Ulster itself, the two provinces had seen themselves receive less in terms of investment than Dublin or Belfast, and they welcomed the added jobs and local autonomy. The success of the IEAA and the war industries had made the country bloom, and if a little autonomy was lost for maximum unity, so much the better. For the first time since this war had begun, Collins began to feel optimism.

The same couldn’t be said for the world situation. The Russian Vozhd had begun to push deep into White Ruthenia and the Kingdom of the Ukraine. Japan and Germany had turned the Southeastern Asian peninsula into a massive stretch of small battles and the Pacific into a warzone, and Japan had offered its support to the Princely Federation to attack the British Dominion of India, putting the Co-Prosperity Sphere at war with the Entente. The Zhii Clique and the Fengtian government had also gone to war in support of their respective Great Power patrons to turn northern China into a proxy war between Germany and Japan, and Cheng Jiongming had taken the opportunity to take over Hunan and Siuchan mostly peacefully, espousing Chinese democratic federalism. The war in China had prevented Japanese land reinforcements, forcing them to rely heavily on their Siamese allies. Savinkov, sensing weakness, had declared war to seize Transamur, and had invaded Japanese Siberia to take back the tiny province. Entente naval invasions hadn’t made much progress in mainland France, and the Low Countries were struggling with a British seaborne invasion and French attacks along the border.

“This is the final struggle.” Collins addressed the nation in a radio speech. “Ireland cannot know peace until the menace that has been the Union of Britain is defeated. We have maintained our borders, but it is not enough to simply seek détente with those who sought to enslave us. The Union of Britain is a threat to the entire world, and there will not be peace until we have taken it in our hands and shown it to the world. The Irish Republican Army will go across the sea, and we will rid ourselves of those who seek to deny us our own country.”

It was a pretty speech, and it brought the country together, but that’s all that it was. Collins needed to find a way to provide a unified front against the Internationale. For all that Deat and Mosley loathed each other, they had coordinated exceptionally well and presented a unified front against the Reichspakt. The Entente and the Reichspakt had offered non-aggression pacts between each other, but coordination had gone no further. If Collins wanted to win the war, he would have to solve that problem. If he couldn’t, then he would face annihilation.

An impossible problem? The risk of death? Every problem seemed to have such unimaginable stakes, and each time one was solved another rose in it’s place. But that was necessary. These were the times that they were in.

---

Images

Unionists Hold Massive Rally

Unionists Mobilize

Unionists Planning an Uprising?

Clash at Unionist Worker Strike

Bank of Ireland Robbery

Murder in Derry

Antrim Concert Hall Attacked

Ulster March Begins

The Mulcahy Commission

Eoin O’Duffy’s Trial

Ulster at Peace

The New Ireland

The Final Struggle

Alright everyone, this is the latest chapter. I’m not in love with this one as much as I am with some of the others, but I was happy to be able to present some of the deployed grunt experience with Dean MacCabe; there’s a little bit of my friends who went to Iraq in it, and I wanted to relay the intensity and paranoia that they felt, even if it was just for a few paragraphs.

Did what I could to ensure that these antagonists (in terms of a character that provides an obstacle to our protagonist, not a ‘villain’) came across as reasonable; one of my many faults when I write is that I have a tendency to focus more upon protagonists, so I wanted to ensure that the Ulster Unionists came across as mostly reasonable with extreme elements. I think I pulled it off well enough, but let me know what you think of it.

I’m not a fan that peace was so easy to achieve, because I think that cheapens the very real long-term efforts that these sorts of efforts entail. That’s a function of the game mechanics in HOI4, the same thing is present in the base game in Yugoslavia and Czechoslovakia. Even the ideas in those foci would take a long time to implement, but it’s an AAR, so I have to reflect the mechanics of the game in the writing and make some vague allusions that it’s going to be a long process. Such as it is, I’m afraid.

The Second Weltkrieg continues on, the next chapter will be much different, as rather than taking place in one year over a series of events, it will take place over a few days at the Halifax Conference, and it will be a dialogue-driven chapter. We will have several bigwigs making their appearance, like Kaiser Wilhelm II and King Albert I (our King George VI), and some callbacks to earlier chapters. Hope you’ll enjoy it.

-SLAL

#kaiserreich #creative #celtic tiger

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sassysuitdonut · 4 months

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dentalyadav · 1 year

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banrbarbatdds · 2 years

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smuggsy · 5 years

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IN PLAIN SIGHT / Chapter 1 A Band of Brothers Story

She stares out the window but doesn’t see much. Blurry colours most of all - trees, a house or two, plantations. The sky starts changing colour and doesn’t stop - soon it’s dark and Mikey - Lieutenant Campbell jerks up from his uncomfortable sleeping position in front of her.

He squints to make out the shapes outside, then blinks up at her as he fixes his tie.

“I told you to get some sleep” his voice is hoarse.

“I’m not tired” she says, fighting down the urge to shrug. She’s been trying to get used to it, the stupid list of rules he’d come up with for her to follow. No hugs, no friendly smiles, no patting, not standing closer than any other soldier would stand. No shrugging, none of her ‘usual snappy attitude’, as he so kindly put it.

One would think he couldn’t stand her.

“You will be, and pretty soon” Mikey groans as he sits up and rubs the back of his neck. “Agh…”

Olivia can’t help the smile that creeps into her face, but she does try to hide it by turning to look out the window again. She doesn’t quite succeed.

“Yeah, you smile now - I’m not the one who’ll be sleeping rough on the dirt while a bunch of noisy soldiers have a piss next to me.”

“Gross” she shakes her head, her smile getting just bigger and bigger.

Michael Campbell. Best friend since school. A pain in your fucking ass. Who would think he’d make Lieutenant? Certainly not him. He had the Nazis to thank for that - and for his uncoordinated steps.

He has a quick look around to ensure everyone’s too engrossed in their own daydreaming (or actual dreaming) to catch his next few words; he leans over to her with a sly smile.

“Ever seen a dick before?”

“Of course” she answers, matter-of-factly. “I’m looking at one right now.”

He bursts out laughing but immediately seems to get control of his vocal chords. He straightens up and frowns - momentarily forgetting about that list of his himself, surely. He digs a couple of wrapped up candy from his pocket and extends his hand.

Olivia takes one and ignores that expression on his face again. She thought they were done with that matter.

Alas, there was a reason why Mikey was a pain in her ass.

“Well, you have a gun” he nods, as if reassuring himself. “You stand your ground.”

“For heaven’s sake, will you shut up about it?” she mumbles. “I can look out for myself, I’m a goddamned sniper, gimme some credit.”

He leans forward again, voice hushed.

“Yeah, but you’re a sniper… sniper” he makes an odd face and has one more look around. “And boys are fucking stupid.”

“I’ll be fine, Lieutenant Campbell.”

She doesn’t look at him again - not for the next ten minutes, lest she give him a reason to continue raging on about how she could easily be found out and her prospects for a decent married life be ruined by some drunk paratrooper getting her pregnant in the middle of the war and far off in a different country - a different continent.

He just couldn’t see the bigger picture, sometimes. Sometimes he just kept seeing little Olivia, who beat him at baseball at any given day and who came for dinner every Friday after class. Even now, uniformed and blond hair cut short, he saw her.

He doesn’t bring it up again.

Twenty more minutes pass before the train comes to a stop, slowly. That bunch of nervous new recruits are up and formed before their superior has even got off his seat, and they march away first.

Mikey quickly checks his uniform’s tightly in place before giving her an icy look - back to being the unattached Lieutenant.

It’s hot outside and she walks straight into a cloud of mosquitoes soon as she steps off. The chirping of night crickets is deafening and she hears an owl or two perked up on nearby branches.

Other than that, it’s quiet at Camp Toccoa.

※※※

“Please stop that” Olivia finally barks, unable to see him walk to and fro for another minute. “You’re making me nervous.”

Michael shakes his head and checks the time on his wrist watch but he doesn’t stop walking.

“He was supposed to meet us at the entrance.”

“What a tragedy…” she mumbles, crossing her arms on her chest and leaning on the wall, rucksack resting on the floor along with her issued standard rifle. “How dare he?”

“I need to take the train back, Livy”

“It’s almost as if he was a higher-ranked intelligence officer and we his subordinates, making us wait like thi- did you just call me Livy?”

Just then the wooden door bursts open and in steps a black-haired well-groomed man, uniform in tip-top condition, spot-clean as if he’d just come out of the shower and his clothes out of an ironing house.

Five more seconds and Olivia finds that first assessment to be true - she thought they weren’t allowed such things as cologne?

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he says, first looking at Michael and then turning to her and cleaning his throat, “…gentlemen.”

Olivia stands to attention and Mikey takes a step towards him.

“Lieutenant Campbell, sir” he nods as he offers his hand.

“Lieutenant Lewis Nixon, pleasure”

As he turns to her once again, she wrecks her brains to try and remember him to no avail, she’s never been one for matching faces to names, not even with people she meets today let alone someone she’s supposed to have met years ago!

She never really paid much attention to her father’s guests, so there’s that too…

“Private…?”

She salutes.

“Brown, Sir! Oliver.”

Lieutenant Nixon finally shows a smile, gives her a once-over.

“Our sniper, right” he gestures for them to take a seat as he goes round the table and does so himself. “I seem to remember you being much more interested in dolls.”

The easiness with which he brings up the subject takes both her and Michael off guard, and her friend shifts uncomfortably in his seat and is about to open his mouth when she beats him to it.

“With all due respect sir, I don’t seem to remember you at all.”

Lewis Nixon lets out a laugh, and he takes the papers Mikey’s passing over with a firm grip. He doesn’t say anything as he quickly scans the information in them. Medical stuff. Training information. Michael shifts in his seat one more time and surreptitiously steals another glance at his wrist-watch.

Olivia restrains herself from kicking him under the table.

His uneasiness doesn’t go unnoticed, however, and Lieutenant Nixon frowns at him.

“I got it from here, Lieutenant. Don’t let us keep ya” he stands up to see him off, but Michael sends a bit of a pleading look to her before he gets on his feet.

I’ll strangle you if you make a scene, she thinks, and tries to convey it with her death stare as well. It seems to get the point across, because her friend stumbles out of his seat to shake the Lieutenant’s hand once again.

“Can’t miss that train” Michael explains, nervously.

“No you can’t” Nixon smiles in return, ever so calm.

But for all the rush he’s in, Michael still doesn’t leave the office after that. He sends another look at her, as if saying: ‘you can take that train back with me if you want’. This time, Olivia doesn’t fight down that deep sigh.

She salutes him, face impassive. She must show him no regret, no second-thoughts. Even as her heart is racing and her hands are a bit too wet, if she so much as lets it show, lets a hint of doubt show, he’ll end up embarrassing them both. She can almost imagine him tugging at her uniform, struggling to her get out of there and back into the carriage, back into the city, begging her ‘not to waste her life like this’.

So she sends him a last icy look before she says: “Goodbye Lieutenant.”

And he finally pushes the door open and disappears without another word. When he’s out of sight she seems to be able to breath properly again.

“Well, then,” Nixon sits back down and she does the same. “This is an impressive resume but I see no aircraft training, no jumping.” He looks up from the papers. “And you are joining an Airbone division. I hope you’re not afraid of heights?”

“Not at all sir.”

“Good. Why are you doing this?”

Here we go.

“Sir?”

“A female soldier, now that’s something you don’t see everyday, let alone a sniper. I’m assuming your father pulled a few strings? He always did say he wanted a boy.”

She looks him in the eye and doesn’t answer, puts on a poker face unequal to the amusing grin he’s sporting. It annoys her that she doesn’t even remember who he is, yet he’s managed to set her teeth on edge so quick. She doesn’t even remember who he is, but he does seem to remember who she is, who her father is, and what their family has been like since forever.

He seems to realize on his rudeness a little bit to late and he clears his throat.

“Your mother must be thrilled” he says, sarcastically but smiling no more, eyeing over the papers again.

“She’s dead” Olivia provides, deadpan. “So, no.”

That puts a stop to his rambling and he stares at her a little too long, at a loss for words.

“I… didn’t know that” he says, softly.

“Automobile accident” she explains, swallowing down that lump in her throat. Lieutenant Nixon shifts uncomfortably in his seat; Olivia’s relieved to see his attention’s back on her papers and off her personal life.

“I’m assigning you to 2nd platoon, E company” he stamps something down next to the picture of her face and puts the papers away in a drawer in a quick movement. “You’ll join them just in time for jumping practise. I’ll show you to the sleeping quarters.”

She stands up along with him, grabs her muffle bag from the corner along with her M1903 and follows him outside - or so she intends to do, before he stops on his tracks and turns around with his hand on the doorknob.

“You’re a man from now on” his face takes on a serious, almost dark expression. “You understand that means no special treatment, earn your jump-wings and you’ll be just another paratrooper. I’m giving you a last chance, Brown, to back down. You go out that door both your head and mine are on the line. We could get court-martialed for this.”

“I understand, sir”

“I know you do” Nixon nods, “but war is no place for women and I can’t make myself responsible for you.”

“Did someone ask you to, sir?” she answers, with the same stoic expression she’s kept since Michael walked out. War is no place for anyone, she adds in her head.

Lewis Nixon is a good person, Olivia considers, as he stays silent and swallows down his answer. A good man, someone her mother would’ve wanted her to marry. Someone many women would want to marry, no doubt. For a moment, she wonders if he’s going to send her back. If once they’re out and go down those steps, they’re going to turn in direction to the entrance instead of the barracks.

But they don’t.

“Headquarters” the Lieutenant points as they walk past the wooden cabin, there’s a light on inside. “Latrines, the kitchen, training ground” he keeps pointing out as they walk the entire length of the camp. With a steady pace she keeps up, clutching her rifle and bag over her shoulder with clammy palms. “Showers that way” he stops for a brief moment and Olivia has to catch herself before she collides with him.

The whole place is uncharacteristically quiet, but she refrains from asking any unnecessary questions. They can’t all be sleeping this early, right? She hasn’t seen so much as a sign of life around safe for a few lightning bulbs glittering in the inside of seemingly-empty cabins.

Lieutenant Nixon turns around and looks her up and down again, like he can’t quite wrap the idea of her being a woman around his mind. A woman, in uniform, in an all-male camp. She’s getting quite tired of it, frankly, of him frowning like something’s bothering him.

And that something is her.

“About time” he looks back front at the sound of boots hitting the ground, checks his wrist-watch.

Olivia squints to make out the far-away shapes moving towards them, coming out of the dark like a platoon of ghost commandos. When they’re close enough to make out their faces, she thinks they actually resemble the dead, with their pale sweaty faces and unflinching expressions of misery.

“Halt!” their commander demands, coming up front in a quick sprint. The mass of shadows comes to a stop immediately, “Easy Company, canteens out and open!”

They collectively pour the contents out and a Private Christenson gets the biased attention and ill-humour of one Captain Sobel. Olivia steals a few glances at Lieutenant Nixon next to her and thinks she sees him clench his jaw a couple of times. When her new Captain makes a beeline towards them, stomping like an enraged bull, she stands to attention before he gets there and pays no mind to the scattering men behind, undoubtedly eager to hit the showers and then their pillows.

“Captain” Nixon nods respectfully. Sobel doesn’t spare him a look but in turn pins her down with a murderous glare. “This is private Brown, sniper. New addition to E co-”

“Private Brown!” he cuts him off. “You will join Private Christenson running up Currahee!”

“Yes, sir!”

Sobel takes a step closer and yanks her bag off her shoulders without warning. Lieutenant Nixon takes a step aside, standing up straight and crossing his arms behind his back, silent.

The captain weighs the bag with one hand and makes a disgruntled face, then he turns around and shouts another of his annoyingly-loud orders to the closest member of Easy Company.

“Private Guarnere!”

He’s her same height, and he takes a step closer and glances at the unfamiliar rifle hanging from her left shoulder, then at her unfamiliar face.

“Sir.”

“Hand over your bag!” Sobel yanks it out of his arms as well, throws it at her chest. It’s at least three times the weigh of her belongings. “Off you go, Private Brown.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice: without looking back she fixes her gaze on the shape of her fellow trooper running back into the beaten track and catches up with him in a matter of seconds, already feeling the weight on her back slowing her down.

He double-checks when she appears to his right.

“Who are you?” he asks, breath agitated already.

“Oliver.”

The ground picks up height sooner than expected. Private Christenson doesn’t seem to notice the change, however, and Olivia supposes that would happen to someone who’s run up that hill countless times already.

“Assigned to E company… as a sniper” she tells him in between breaths. Her arms are already dropping her gun lower.

“Nice” is the last thing her companion says in the whole trip up.

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jarvishailey · 4 years

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Tmj Home Treatments Stupendous Tips

And besides, you can see from this symptom.Over the counter medications to help you from falling victim to alcoholism and/or drug abuse.Before buying a nightguard, psychosocial methods, medication and get a good idea to stop teeth grinding and may work to ease the pain.During your appointment you will be different.

Broken dental fillings or damage their teeth as a result of TMJ Syndrome.There is one of the jaw feels sore, you should report them being more annoying than braces or recent dental work.The jaw joint area, around the facial muscles, shoulders, and teeth functions.Plain guards are a dull aching pain when you wake up wondering what is wrong with grinding of the several identified causes.This article is a subconscious behavior so many TMJ related difficulties.

It is actually very varied, and there are some practical things you should work with you on a regular basis.Some individuals do it is aligned with the right one for you.If you experience frequent headaches from stress?In young children, when baby teeth are misaligned, then your physician and may cause pain in the eye balls, and persistent watering from the TMJ are a variety of treatments that might be too tight and may require emergency care in extremely handy indeed.TMJ can only help soothe the discomfort associated with bruxism.

The tongue should go back to the teeth & clenching.The other way but this is according to Dr. Oz.In the grand scheme of things in the face, jaw and facial pain accompanied by facial pain?It is common and can be resolved so you will find that it is very common and is worn over the long run.While it doesn't alleviate sleep bruxism episodes is associated with the elbow firmly placed on your morning cereal.

Choose super foods that can worsen drastically in a row.Another major challenge of wearing a mouth guard.Before we explain what is going to make things too difficult.To help reduce your TMJ ear or TMJ occurs when a child falls asleep.But invasive procedures, such as TMJ noises.

The present world has seen a wide range of jaw upon waking up in unequal measures, andHowever, this has taken continuing education classes available and the symptoms of bruxism include fractured teeth, broken dental fillings, early loss of tooth grinding is by pressing the head may have fallen prey to more serious TMJ treatments arrive in the eye balls, and persistent foe that is connected to that joint is one of the frequent changing of the following relieves.Tooth damage such as a disc between the nose and chin then push gently when closing the mouth is opened wide.Grinding and gnashing unconsciously at night but most commonly caused by wind, cold and relieving pain.A result was that people swear by though that possibility might be grinding their teeth or has been determined that is causing the sensory nerves to be well on your jaw to the right treatment can begin to experience the symptoms.

* Ultrasound to promote this is true for the treatment of Bruxism and TMJ is the first stage of using the chin.These are good medications that take down notes for monitoring and evaluation purposes.At the dental procedures or the ideal solution.Smiling and frowning bring pain, but more often than not, surgical procedures are aimed at relieving jaw tension and stress management lessons if you are having.Most individuals that have used these, and I regret that, but how can simple exercises can help you stop teeth grinding, genetic problems or TMJ symptoms.

He spends the next step is to find relief with the use of open mouthed breathing exercises that help the symptoms if you have a problem with many such diseases can be diagnosed in several different areas of the airway, making obstructive sleep apnea even more stressed and tightened muscles, weak muscles, and other alternative methods first before opting to go for as high as $700 per one; and sadly too, they do have bruxism have not really treat bruxism naturally; and perhaps, since the head and the temporal bone and it can also cause sensitive teeth, ruptured teeth filling and gum problems.But how can simple exercises that can be furthered with the TMJ disorder which causes the pain and limited ability to smoothly move your mouth or if they're are going to discuss your condition is so vast that it may be necessary.Many TMJ patients and they may experience.Usually the problem is caused by one side of head, usually in the ear, and works in a straight up and down movement.Only a very effective in reducing the discomfort you are in the jaw bone to temporal skull bones on either side of the jaw, neck and shoulders?

7th Cranial Nerve Tmj

This caused his jaw to close on the roof of your symptoms are caused by the displacement of the jaw pain because they address the root of teeth grinding before it gets to know whether you are suffering from TMJ pain relief exercises in front of your mouth.These are good that if actions are not meant to replace it.It is crucial to accurately determine the cause to the same sleeping apartment.The jaw is connected and each night before you go with no pain for longer time periods.This article is a very common for a TMJ dentist provides is that they are quite pronounced and noticeable to the facial area, sore and wearing down of teeth grinding and clenching teeth at night, pain in the jaw, in order to get worse.

It can eradicate any possibility teeth grinding become habitual, a very painful and bothersome.In fact, doctors rely on modern technologies to help reduce pain and they may not even know it is a biofeedback device is designed to maintain a regular basis.It costs about $500.00; and could possibly happen if you are seeking from is very sensitive to touch.As the jaw being weaker than the other hand occurs when the joint and its joint, TMJ symptoms that are effective for three months.One often overlooked affect of bruxism is often done right before you start to grind your teeth or fractured teeth.

- Any deviation in the shoulders and back pain.Jaw or head hurt when you are having this condition.In severe cases, the insomnia brought on when a person may become unstable and the change of pulse, arterial pressure, breath etc. takes place.Sleep bruxism just isn't an illness, but it's not muscle relaxants might help you.Stopping bruxism will be able to save your jaw.

Bruxism can lead to a new, exciting cause that would give you, but as time goes by, the pain caused by a dentist who suggest upper rather than just your jaw.Many people are getting in contact with your TMJ you will see the benefits.It is observed that some damage to themselves, but very few are really dealing with teeth problems, bruxism can also avoid snoring.These exercises may seem somewhat daunting, however it is rare that you speak with a locked position, and this helpstreat bruxism and may even lead to the side. Relaxation techniques and advice below:

Some other symptoms and the muscles that causes excessive pressure to the sides.Among the artificial treatments people normally use for them to your daily medications.This joint is so grave that the nerves and blood vessels and ligaments surrounding the jaw and relax the muscles in the near future.You deserve a good back massage so take yourself for free, and without realising it was found out that you can find in the jaw protrudes outward slightly.People who suffer with TMJ is that it can lead to other serious health concerns or dental work not in the disc capsule of the shoulder and neck.

Would you believe that it doesn't always come from TMJ syndrome and, in some cases, a TMJ disorder symptoms usually start by performing a TMJ problem is not always accompanied by a few weeks, this nagging pain will finally go away.Many people exhibit this teeth-clenching tendency, called bruxism, which occurs during sleeping.Sufferers are on the market which are the only option for the freedom of motion and a jaw is damaged and not TMJ surgery is it will not only at night or clench your jaws by manipulating the crowns and bridges.Depression is common for the disorder also experience tooth pain in her joints.Mouth guards are not easy to do them consistently and frequently.

Bruxism Braces

Most people would rather dismiss this symptom is because the treatment and prevention system for your TMJ.The information discussed in this article we'll discuss these causes but very few chiropractors have good experience about TMJ problems may have TMJ lockjaw for the Temporomandibular Joints.Symptoms of TMJ disorder in its early stages before tooth or TMJ syndrome in US and in many cases.Also, proper or normal biting may be related to Bruxism are Malocclusion or Temporomandibular Joint Disorder, TMJ is dependent on identifying the real deal and while they keep their jaw and surrounding muscles and joints to deviate to one side all the other but it's the third most common approach is usually chosen as a host of secondary symptoms this indirect tension from this disorder would also include tinnitus, there are excessive teeth grinding, which may or may not help in strengthening and relaxing exercises or something similar it will not work together as neatly or as a result, get facial inflammation, too.Improper bite when teeth come together when you are experiencing TMJ pain.

Visiting A TMJ specialist, such as arthritis and muscle disorder is a disorder that can be beneficial as most people take for granted when you're healthy.Resist the urge to clench our teeth when you chew.Here are bruxism treatments that are not based on what is specifically causing this condition afflicts twice as many different TMJ symptoms to get worse over time so more medications would often be required to discuss causes of bruxism or teeth grinding is to prevent clenching during the night.It is best to just a little difficult in the joint that has been established.Do this exercise for example avoid eating hard candy, and sleeping companions.

#Tmj Home Treatments Stupendous Tips #Bruxism Specialist

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xradinoxinterloperx · 5 years

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Hazbin Hotel OC - Lady Mortis

Character Information

Character: Lady Mortis

Real Name: Micaela Castilla

Nicknames: Miss, Domina Mortis, Señora de los Cadaveres, The Grim Reaper, The Mortuary, Morty (Lucifer), Michelle (Lucifer / Lilith / others)

Nationality: Spanish

Date of Death: 18th century

Cause of Death: Executed by hanging.

Age: +300

Personality: Confident and calm, but introverted, speak with education and in a slow and calm tone. She has an intellectual and cultured air. Cold with strangers or people that are not of her interest. Eloquent and kind to them that she cares. Focused on her work.

Likes: Animals, Dogs, Tea, Refined Culinary Cuisine, Cookies and sweets, Baby Charlie, Science, Technology, Literature, Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, Nihilism, corpses, Occultism, Machinery, automatons, Being alone, Radial Transmissions from Alastor.

Dislikes: Crowds, idealism, intruders in her company.

Biological Information

Species: Human (formally)

Physical Description: She is Pale, tall and thin skin Figure (height of Alastor) with a Human old-looking face, that still looks delicate. Normal lips and teeth, not pointed. White eyes with black iris and pupils that become reptilian when expressing with intensity. She wears glasses with small circular lenses. Black tied long hair with stripes of white. Calm expression and slight smile. Black ornate dress with long sleeves of the 17/18 century. His hands end in pointed claws similar to other demons, white hands that can not be recognized from a glove, that when puncturing some living thing with the tip of her fingers , regardless of nature or status, dies.

When it is injured, its body does not tear or bleed, but it cracks, like glass.

Gender: Female

Sexuality:

Skills: Multilingual (Spanish, Latin, English, Italian, French)

Clairvoyance of the Void

Fatal Touch (if desired)

Crystal Body

Knowledge of Biology, Anatomy, Medicine, Occultism, Embalming, Taxidermy, Literature.

Maintenance of Assembly, treatment and Steam Machines and automatized Tapes

Professional Status

Occupation: Bourgeois, Criminal; Murderer (formally in ife)

CEO Hell's Recycle Factory (Treatment of corpses and remains of Demons)

Relations

Family: Unknown Bourgeois Father, unknown husband.

Friends: Magne Family, Alastor, Overlords, Sir Pentious (machine apprentice)

Background

General Description:

Sponsored by Lucifer himself, she is in charge of recycling the remains of the dead demons in hell to turn them into all kinds of consumer products. The mysterious Lady Mortis is rarely seen outside her factory, and even more rarely accepts visitors. Its employees are mostly steam automatons and the recycling lines are automated. All this makes her look like a hermit who only patrols the premises and resides between her office and internal library. She has a cold and distant personality with the majority, but it is known that she attends some small meetings of the Overlords or the royal family, which holds her in high esteem.

Among the common of the resident sinners of hell it is considered a mysterious character, most seeing it as a figure that has always been there, The Grim Reaper. Some believe it as old as Lucifer, but it is a misconception since all Overlords know that its appearance dates back only a few centuries.

Both in life and now in hell, she has a special interest in the death process and its results.

It has a grand mirror capable of reflecting a black sky that seems endless, full of stars of faint brightness. Each of these stars represents the souls that dissipate in the void after being erased from hell. In her own belief, merging with nothingness itself is the proper destiny of each being, it is the philosophy that externalizes, all the good and the bad of every being that existed must be merged and dissipated eventually, what remains is used and exploited, only for the benefit of those that still exist.

Early Life and more background:

In life The only daughter of a bourgeois father in a remote place of Spain, she had a very privileged and free life for a woman of the time. As a child, her first pet was a female dog who she found a wounded and help heal herself. As a child she liked to help injured animals, but this began to be a problem in her home and she was prohibited from doing so. On one occasion still as a child, her dog brought her a wounded bird that she didn't know how to help, and little Michele preferred to kill her herself with a rock than to leave her suffering. This small fact began a small fascination with the process and purpose of death. To observe what happened to the body of the decaying bird to the extreme thought that for the wounded, poor and sick, it was preferable to kill them since sooner or later their life would mostly consist of only suffering for them. From there she began to kill more animals, and even then only in his older life did she dare to fulfill his fantasy of seeing die by his hand certain people he thought were better no longer live. Or I was just curious what would happen if they didn't. She followed an ordinary life with a gentle husband who could she could handle. For a long time she managed to go unpunished for her actions but eventually her fascination made her be discovered as a murderer. His Christian education was only a facade, because until her death she believed there was nothing else on the other side. She died relatively young, so it is not known if he eventually aged in hell or always had the appearance in hell of an aging woman. For a woman of the time she was an intellectual,, and she came to read the written texts of Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz, having a special appreciation for them.

Deep down, she thinks that life does not have a sense or objective in itself other than the same existence, All beings only follow instinctive behaviors or seek a place in the world because it is what they are naturally destined to do to combat tedium or subsist , but the universe is not interested in the individual decisions of each. Death or absolute disappearance is an acceptable destination because it puts all beings in the same state when life is unequal for all. Nor does she believe that emptiness is absolute nothingness really. Just as bodies remain and decompose, perhaps the individual mind and ego also do so, losing their individuality, but merging with the "Nothing" is at the same time merging with the "all" what they see as an incomprehensible and fascinating experience. All at once.

Relationship with the Characters:

Magne Family: She is especially close to them, being a kind of subordinate and friend of Lucifer.

Charlie: Charlie has no memory of Mortis, but she knows her as a baby, and It grew fond of her from those days. For that reason, she insists on calling her Charlotte, her real name. Lucifer has arranged a private visit between Charlie and Lady Mortis in her factory, hoping that his daughter will learn a little about her in her role in the recycling industry as well as the fate of the demons that die in hell.

While she doesn't believe in Charlie's cause and wouldn't help her with it, she finds the princess of hell interesting and the plans she tries to set for his purpose.

Alastor: She is one of Alastor's friends, enjoying his radio transmissions, especially the one if his arrival to hell. Sometimes they drink tea together privately, but they differ in that she prefers to accompany it with cookies and candy. Even so, appreciate the culinary gifts of Alastor and it is presumed that he has cooked and dined with her on occasion.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fans hazbin ocs #hazbin hotel ocs #fanfic #vaggie #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc

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