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neuxue · 6 years

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Wheel of Time liveblogging: The Gathering Storm ch 39

VERIN!

Chapter 39: A Visit from Verin Sedai

Where were we? Oh yes.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

“You never held the Oath Rod,” Egwene accused her.

Odd that that’s the first conclusion she jumps to. Verin has the ageless face, after all; she must have sworn oaths of some sort. Then again, I suppose Egwene can be forgiven for being thrown a little by that reveal. And for not wanting to jump to the other conclusion that might immediately come to mind.

“I don’t trust you,” Egwene found herself blurting. I don’t think I ever have.” “Very wise,” Verin said, sipping her tea. It was not a scent Egwene recognised. “I am, after all, of the Black Ajah.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She!

She just!

Did that!

Just came right out and said it. I waited ELEVEN BOOKS to find out what her deal was. ELEVEN BOOKS of wondering and suspecting and second-guessing and she just SAYS IT. LIKE THAT. RIGHT THERE.

WELL NOW WE KNOW, I GUESS.

Just. Well played. So very, very well played. One of the characters who held her cards closest to the chest all series, one of the most difficult to pin down, and so of coursethe reveal is on her own terms, direct and straightforward and stunning even if it’s not completely surprising.

Well. Played.

Also I’m suspicious of how often and pointedly the tea she’s drinking has been mentioned. The scent you don’t recognise is called foreshadowing, Egwene.

Egwene felt a sudden chill, like an ice cold spike pounded directly through her back and down into her chest.

Damn it Brandon get your hemalurgy out of my WoT.

Verin was Black. Light!

Nice forced juxtaposition in the phrasing there.

Those eyes that always had seemed to know too much. What better way to hide than as an unassuming Brown, constantly dismissed by the other sisters because of your distracted, scholarly ways?

Indeed. Who looks too closely at the absentminded scholar? Who suspects duplicity of a plump older woman with ink smudges on her dress? Who thinks too hard on disturbing comments made by a distracted Brown with little attention to tact? Verin, and people like Verin, are so easily…not even overlookedso much as set aside. I wonder, sometimes, why we’re so quick in times of crisis or uncertainty to disregard those who have made it the subject of their life’s work and study. Why we hold so strongly to this notion that scholarship means setting oneself aside from the ‘real world’, even when, without the real world, there would be nothing to study.

It’s my whole thing with the ‘lol the mapmaker can’t actually navigate’ nonsense with Roidelle a few chapters back. Like listen, fuck you, I can read and use just about any map you give me. I can navigate by the stars in either hemisphere. You think I spent my Ivory Tower Years studying the earth without getting my hands dirty? I did not haul a literal bucket full of shit through a jungle in volcano-melted shoes for this.

(Yes, there are parts of academia that are, to put it kindly, Out Of Touch, and whose publications are more self-referential and inbred than your average European monarchy. But the ease with which we write off ‘scholars’ and ‘academics’ as hopeless in all matters relating to the Real World is kind of mind-boggling.)

Anyway. Rather than diving headfirst into an essay on the insidious nature of anti-intellectualism, I’ll just say…Verin really did have the perfect disguise.

Not quite as much to the reader – it’s been very much made clear that she was up to something and that the distracted-and-muddled act was very much an act – but in-world? Even in ourworld, without the insight given by the narrative, who would have looked twice?

Verin, of course, just responds to Egwene’s shock with possibly the most English thing she could possibly say aside from ‘shit weather we’re having, isn’t it?’:

“My, but this is good tea.”

I love her.

What a troll.

She just SHOWED UP IN EGWENE’S ROOM, DRINKING TEA, AND ANNOUNCED THAT SHE’S BLACK AJAH. AFTER ELEVEN BOOKS. OF GIVING AWAY NOTHING. EVEN IN HER THOUGHTS.

She is, truly, On Another Level.

I’m also just running through everything she’s ever done or said or thought in the last eleven books with the certainty of hindsight and my brain feels a little bit like one of those flipbooks you play with as a kid.

Just…*shakes head* well fucking played, Verin.

“I would offer you some tea, but I sincerely doubt you want any of what I’m having.”

Even I don’t mention tea as frequently as it’s been mentioned in these last two or three pages. What exactly is in that tea, Verin?

Egwene’s still in panic mode, and I love the way this is played out, with her thoughts scattered and frantic, juxtaposed against Verin’s calm, collected, and utterly shocking matter-of-fact, conversational, mild statements.

But while Egwene – I suppose understandably – sees Verin immediately as a threat after that admission, I…don’t.

“I compliment you on what you’ve done here, Egwene.”

‘I’m Black Ajah, but more importantly, I love what you’ve done with the room! Such a good eye for colour, and the minimalist style is so in right now. Tea?’

When you get an opportunity like this, you don’t squander it. And she is making the absolute most of her chance here, and I honestly don’t even blame her. She could say something reassuring, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, Verin has always dealt in truths, not platitudes.

I love her, you guys. I love her so much.

“It was more important to continue my research and keep an eye on young al’Thor. He’s a fiery one”

TOO. SOON.

That was rude. Fuck. Wow. Okay.

“I’m not certain he understands how the Great Lord works. Not all evil is as…obvious as the Chosen. The Forsaken, as you’d call them.”

Two things here. One: there is absolutely no way Verin is truly aligned with the Shadow. Two: she gets it. She understands what’s going on, with Rand and even, I think, with how the Shadow is manipulating him without ever having to truly turn him.

“I’m convinced that it isn’t intelligence, craftiness, or skill that makes one Chosen—though of course, those things are important. No, I believe it is selfishness the Great Lord seeks in his greatest leaders.”

YES. THIS.

THIS, EXACTLY.

Of course Verin is the one to put it into words so clearly. With one exception, they are so focused on their own power and their own promised rewards and their own plans and successes and positions of favour that they don’t even see the game they’re truly playing. They serve themselves, not a cause, and because they are intelligent and crafty and skilled, they become incredibly effective pawns in that game, set on a board they hardly understand and let loose to serve a purpose they never truly consider because they are so hell-bent on their own. And so they will destroy the world and themselves with it and never notice until their own flames consume them.

It’s also an interesting statement to consider in the context of Rand, given that Verin has just voiced her worries that he doesn’t understand how the Great Lord works.

Because Rand has an…interesting relationship with selfishness and altruism. Especially now. He has pushed himself into a state of literal selflessness – total denial of the existence of a self – but for the sake of self-preservation. He did it because it hurt too much to hold on to anything of who he was, to let himself feel. So it’s a selfish motivator…and yet, the motivation behind that is a layer of altruism, because that need for survival arises from a need to fulfil his duty to a selfless cause.

And so we go around and around in circles; is he selfish or selfless in his choice to leave his humanity and life and redemption behind? Is it more selfish to seek death or survival, to martyr himself or to endure, to live for something or to die for it?

Listen, I’m a scientist and a programmer and an atheist, and also I cannot get enough of spiralling questions of eschatology and metaphysics and fate in fiction. It’s a thing.

(And that’s not even getting into my obsession with divinity as an entire concept).

But back to the Forsaken. I think Verin has it absolutely right here – power and cunning and other abilities are all well and good, but if you want a group of people you can control and predict and move around like the pawns they are (while they believe themselves to be the players, and masters of the game), selfishness is a perfect trait to select for.

Wise of Verin to see that.

And, back to Rand for just a moment here, maybe that’s part of where he struggles: he’s too close to the Forsaken in his knowledge of them from Lews Therin’s memories to take that step back and view them as an outside observer, yet at the same time he’s so far on the other side of the spectrum in terms of motivations to see this unifying trait and understand how it works and how to use it.

“The Chosen are predictable, but the Great Lord is anything but. Even after decades of study, I can’t be certain exactly what he wants or why he wants it.”

Because, unless you’re Moridin, I think it would break your mind to truly understand what it is he wants. None of the Chosen seem to fully understand it either, because if they did, would they still fight for it? Total destruction of everything, a world remade in the image of chaos, wouldn’t serve any of their goals. And yet because of that selfishness, they are made to serve precisely that cause, and are kept blind by their own narrow ambitions to what end they truly work towards.

“And what does this have to do with me?” Egwene asked.

“Not much,” Verin said, tsking at herself. “I’m afraid I let myself get sidetracked.”

In which Verin’s tangents are more insightful than many character’s introspection. Not to mention about a hundred times more communicative, suddenly. I love when an enigma of a character finally decides it’s time to spill her secrets. It’s so satisfying.

Verin’s so proud of Egwene for what she’s done with the Tower. It’s lovely to see, not just to have someone in a position to recognise and appreciate what Egwene has managed to do, but to have it be someone who’s known Egwene since even before she went to Tar Valon, someone who watched her first learnings and chided her for her early mistakes, and also who knows and understands what’s going on, on a level that seems to be far deeper than most Aes Sedai. Verin sees. And so her praise is worth far more than most. Especially now, when she seems to be so sure that time is short, when she’s making her final play.

Egwene’s still trying to figure out what the hell is even going on here, and…

Oh.

“A number of years ago, I faced a decision. I found myself in a position where I could either take the oaths to the Dark One, or I could reveal that I had actually never wanted—or intended—to do so, whereupon I would have been executed.”

ALL THE SECRETS COME OUT.

DOUBLE AGENT VERIN.

So this was the mistake she alluded to in her thoughts. This is why she’s thought so many times about how sometimes you just have to make the best of the situation you’re given.

“Many would have simply opted for death. I, however, saw this as an opportunity. You see, one rarely has such a chance as this, to study a beast from inside its heart, to see really what makes the blood flow. To discover where all of the little veins and vessels lead. Quite an extraordinary experience.”

“Wait,” Egwene said. “You joined the Black Ajah to study them?”

YES!!!!!!!!!!

VERINNNNN!!!!!!!!!!

THIS IS EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The scholar driven by a desire for knowledge, faced with the consequences of that search, and choosing to push forward anyway, to sacrifice herself not by dying but by living, and swearing herself to a cause she never wanted to join, and seeing it as an opportunity. To keep studying them. HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS SHE?

“Tomas. Does he know what you’ve done?”

“He was a Darkfriend himself, child,” Verin said. “Wanting a way out. Well, there really isn’t a way out, not once the Great Lord has his claws in you. But there was a way to fight, to make up a little of what you’ve done. I offered that chance to Tomas, and I believe he was quite grateful to me for it.”

No man can walk so long in the Shadow…I wonder if Ingtar knew.

It’s such a lovely little addition to this whole reveal; Tomas is a fairly minor character, but it adds that extra bit of depth to an already fantastic scene that she found a way to offer him some small form of redemption, by joining her in hers. It ties everything together just that little bit more. There may not be a way out, but there is a way to go forwards, a way to fight.

Verin was a Darkfriend…but not one at the same time.

It’s not so different from Ingtar’s choice, really. It’s just the timeframe that’s different.

“You said he ‘was’ quite grateful to you?”

And, like Ingtar’s choice, I don’t think there’s much chance of this not being a fatal one.

“The oaths one makes to the Great Lord are quite specific,” she finally continued. “And, when they are placed upon one who can channel, they are quite binding. Impossible to break. You can double-cross other Darkfriends, you can turn against the Chosen if you can justify it. Selfishness must be preserved. But you can never betray him.”

I just love the way she gets so cleanly to the heart of it with her observations of the role of selfishness. It explains so much, so neatly. And yet they are all bound, though they claim to set themselves above everyone else; all of them must serve, in the end, but they are so easily manipulated into believing that they rule.

She looked up, meeting Egwene’s eyes. “‘I sear not to betray the Great Lord, to keep my secrets until the hour of my death.’ That was what I promised. Do you see?”

…oh.

Oh, Verin.

The tea is poison and this is her final play. Killing herself in order to betray all of her secrets, because it’s the one loophole open to her. The only way to share the knowledge she spent decades collecting.

Decades of secrecy and evasion, of hiding behind that distracted scholarly mask, of observing, unseen, from within. And it all ends here, in a single hour of honesty, with the captive Amyrlin she can look at and be proud of.

VEEEEEERRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

She joined them to stay alive because the alternative was death and now she’s choosing her own death as a way of allowing herself to betray them THIS IS TOO MUCH.

“A curious hole in the oaths,” Verin said softly. “To allow one to effect a betrayal in the final hour of one’s life. I cannot help wondering if the Great Lord knows of it. Why wouldn’t he close that hole?”

Because no one selfish enough to serve him would ever think to use it. Because to use it would be an act of absolute altruism, anathema to any in a position to do so.

Except Verin.

“Perhaps he doesn’t see it as threatening,” Egwene said, opening her eyes. “After all, what kind of Darkfriend would kill themselves in order to advance the greater good? It doesn’t seem the kind of thing his followers would consider.”

What she said.

Or…maybe it’s almost meant as a taunt, a cruel reminder of the cost of betrayal. A way of saying to those who might be considering it, who might be regretting their choice, ‘you can betray me but to do so demands your death’. A loophole kept as a warning sign, and a way of making any who might be wavering turn back.

Egwene shook her head. It seemed such a tragedy. “You come to me to confess, killing yourself in a final quest for redemption?”

Not quite, I don’t think. She wouldn’t waste all those years just to gain peace of mind in a confession. She’s come to share knowledge.

IN THE FORM OF HER NOTEBOOKS.

ALL HER NOTES.

THIS IS GOING TO BE GOOD.

“Every woman in the Brown,” Verin said, “seeks to produce something lasting. Research or study that will be meaningful. Others often accuse us of ignoring the world around us. They think we only look backward. Well, that is inaccurate. If we are distracted, it is because we look forward, toward those who will come. And the information, the knowledge we gather…we leave it for them. The other Ajahs worry about making today better; we yearn to make tomorrow better.”

That, right there, is a perfect and utterly lovely redemption of the stereotype of the scholar. Thank you for this.

The desire to leave something lasting, to not just know but to share that knowledge with those who come after, to lay the foundations for future generations to learn from and to learn beyond. A distractedness that comes not from ignoring the world but from looking to its future. A study of the past or the present for the purpose of that future. This is absolutely beautiful. I want it framed on my wall.

I love Verin so much.

“That tome is the…work. My work. The work of my life.”

The work she is quite literally giving her life for. It’s sad but there’s this sense of absolute triumph to it as well.

“Names, locations, explanations,” Verin said. “Everything I learned about them. About the leaders among the Darkfriends, about the Black Ajah. The prophecies they believe, the goals and motivations of the separate factions. Along with a list, at the back, of every Black Ajah sister I could identify.”

And with that one book, with this one hour, with this single but incredible act of betrayal that should be impossible, she’s just dealt a potentially crippling blow to the Shadow.

It costs her life, but she’s done what so many aspire to: created something that could change the future. All that knowledge she gained, all those years of studying, and now she can leave it in the hands of someone who can use it. She can quite literally hand it to the next generation, leave the knowledge she gathered in the hands of the one who will shape the future. It’s a quite victory, witnessed only by Egwene, but what a victory it is.

I. LOVE. VERIN. SO. MUCH.

I just.

I love this tone of triumphant sadness, of a sacrifice that is the exact opposite of in vain. She’s dying for this, but in doing so she’s achieving the the epitome of her Ajah’s ideals. She’s carrying out the most thorough betrayal the Shadow has perhaps ever seen, and handing Egwene information no other Aes Sedai has even come close to managing to uncover.

Her life’s work is thorough and practical and meaningful and could quite literally help save the world.

“I doubt I caught them all,” Verin said, smiling. “But I think I got the large majority of them. I promise you, Egwene. I can be quitethorough.”

And this is one of those things that could so easily tip over into deus ex machina territory – handing a protagonist a list of everyone in the secret evil organisation that’s been causing problems for the whole series and also several centuries previously, right as we move into the final act? Giving her a list that multiple characters and plotlines have been spent trying to find even part of? – and yet manages to avoid that entirely because of how perfectly Verin’s character has been written since the beginning.

Because this doesn’t even remotely come out of nowhere. This has been seeded from the very start, even if I never would have been able to say that this is specifically what it was going to come to. Verin’s been there almost from the beginning, and she’s been so clearly up to something, yet in a way that never quite reveals exactly what…but the fact that she’s been around, and keeping the reader guessing, makes this kind of reveal work. Because you know that somekind of reveal must be coming. And everything she’s done up until now fits so perfectly in hindsight, and makes absolute sense, and it all feels like a natural and surprising-yet-inevitable end to her storyline.

It doesn’t come out of nowhere; it just finishes and ties off what has been there all along.

Egwene looked down at the books with awe. Incredible! Light, but this was a treasure greater than any king’s hoard. A treasure as great as the Horn of Valere itself. She looked up, tears in her eyes, imagining a life spent among the Black, always watching, recording, and working for the good of all.

“Oh, don’t go doing that,” Verin said.

I mean, if I were someone who cried at books, I’m pretty sure I’d be doing the same.

I’m glad that not only does Verin see and understand and and appreciate all that Egwene has done, when so few others are really in a position to, but Egwene understands just how much Verin has done and sacrificed, and what it means.

“This is worth one woman’s life. Few people have had a chance to create something as useful, and as wonderful, as that book you hold. We all seek to change the future, Egwene. I think I might just have a chance at doing so.”

And I’m glad that Verin herself understands just how much of a victory this is, and sees it as such. This is worth her death, and she knows it, and so there is a sense of peace and acceptance rather than tragedy.

Magic bookmark! I want one.

“I will admit that the poison was a backup plan,” Verin said. “I am not eager for death; there are still things I need to do. Fortunately, I have set several of them in motion to be…seen to, in case I do not return. Regardless, my first plan was to find the Oath Rod, then see if I could use it to remove the Great Lord’s oaths. The Oath Rod appears to have gone missing, unfortunately.”

Saerin, Egwene thought, and the others.

How beautifully ironic. They’re using the Oath Rod to try to find the Black Ajah, but because they have it, a Black Ajah double agent couldn’t use it to free herself of the oaths preventing her from betraying the Black Ajah without killing herself.

Also, the Oath Rod itself seems like a bigger loophole than the ‘hour of my death’ phrasing. Or would a Black sister not be able to voluntarily free herself from her oaths because to do so would be a betrayal of the Dark One? Maybe it only worked with Talene and any others because they didn’t decide to renounce all oaths that bound them; they were forced to? Otherwise it seems like a huge vulnerability, to swear Black Ajah members to these binding oaths but leave them free to unbind themselves should they so choose.

Verin, at least, seems to think it might not have worked, even if she hoped it would.

What are the other oaths they take, I wonder?

“One of the Chosen is in the Tower, child. It’s Mesaana, I’m certain of it. I had hoped to be able to bring you the name she was hiding under, but the two times I met with her, she was shrouded to the point that I couldn’t tell.”

I mean, I think you can be forgiven for not uncovering the secret identity of the Forsaken you’ve identified in the Tower, given everything else you’ve done, Verin. I’m also anything but sure of who Mesaana’s hiding as. I suspected the Brown who helped Elaida with the coup, but now I can’t even remember her name (which is kind of unlike me; I have crap memory for people’s names IRL but I’m great with fictional characters) so that tells you how sure I am.

“So many decisions you must make, for one so young.” […]

“Thank you, Verin. Thank you for choosing me to carry this burden.”

Verin smiled faintly. “You did very well with the previous tidbits I gave you. That was quite the interesting situation. The Amyrlin commanded that I give you information to hunt the Black sisters who fled the Tower, so I had to comply, even though the leadership of the Black was frustrated by the order. I wasn’t supposed to give you the dreaming ter’angreal, you know. But I’ve always had a feeling about you.”

It is a lovely way of bringing so many things full circle here. Egwene being set to hunt the Black Ajah all the way back in TDR, and Verin giving her the information, and choosing to trust her with the dream ter’angreal…and now Verin coming to her, and choosing to trust her with her life’s work and her secret and her redemption, and handing her the key to the puzzle she was set to all that time ago.

And this whole scene has been full of this sense of mutual recognition and understanding and respect between them; Verin of what Egwene has done and Egwene of what Verin is doing here, with her last act, and what it means.

So much trust, and oh, how it is rewarded.

Trust usually is, in these books, on the rare occasions that it happens.

“You will be Amyrlin. I’m confident of it. And an Amyrlin should be well armed with knowledge. That, among all things, is the most sacred duty of the Brown—to arm the world with knowledge.”

HAVE I MENTIONED THAT LOVE THIS? BECAUSE I LOVE THIS. THIS IS SO GOOD. It’s just a slight…shifting of angles, in a sense, on the usual perception of Browns, but it casts so much in a different light, and it’s beautiful. We’ve almost exclusively seen the Brown from an outside perspective, and they almost always are portrayed as distracted, esoteric, intelligent but more caught up in knowledge than in anything ‘useful’, absentminded…and Verin doesn’t contradict that so much as shine a light on everything behind it. She gives the Brown Ajah depth, and with that, purpose and meaning and value. To arm the world with knowledge. That is a sacred duty, and a necessary one, whatever the knowledge may be.

It’s what Rand himself was trying to do, by setting up his schools in order to try to preserve something against another Breaking of the World.

And it’s just so, so nice to see, after twelve books of fond disdain for the Brown Ajah. To have them redeemed this way, illuminated this way. To have the narrative itself illustrate the fallacy of such a limited view of scholarship and knowledge.

“I’m still one of them. Please see that they know, although the word Black may brand my name forever, my soul is Brown. Tell them…”

“I will, Verin,” Egwene promised. “But your soul is not Brown. I can see it.” Her eyes fluttered open, meeting Egwene’s, a frown creasing her forehead.

“Your soul is of a pure white, Verin,” Egwene said softly, “Like the Light itself.”

Verin smiled, and her eyes closed.

Ahhhhhhhh.

What a perfect farewell to such a fantastic character.

It’s a completely different context and manner of death, but it still puts me in mind of Ingtar, and his final redemption. The way his last words were ‘for the Light, and Shinowa’ as he turned at last away from the Shadow, after Rand offered him understanding and his blessing and, through that, redemption. Egwene does something similar here, in promising to let the others know the truth—and what a beautifully sad last request that is, to have done so much and to just want it known that she was truly of her Ajah, that she did what she did in the service of the Light—and in that last evocation of the Light, and the sense of peace it brings.

Goodbye, Verin. You were every kind of awesome and you will be missed. But damn, what a way to go.

It felt callous to double-check, but there were some poisons which could make one appear to be dead and breathe only very shallowly, and if Verin had wanted to trick Egwene and point a finger at the wrong sisters, this would have been a wonderful method. Callous indeed to double-check, and it made Egwene feel sick, but she was Amyrlin. She did that which was difficult and considered all possibilities.

Callous, but good to be certain. She trusts Verin, and admits and accepts that trust…but that doesn’t stop her from doing the pragmatic thing just in case. And yet – perhaps more importantly – her ability to do the pragmatic thing, and her consideration of all possibilities, does not prevent her from trusting. She doesn’t step across that line into paranoia; she’ll check because it’s a possibility she should be sure to eliminate, but she will also trust. She’ll do the callous thing when necessary, but she doesn’t allow that callousness to become her only mode.

Her heart trusted Verin, although her mind wanted to be certain.

That’s a good way of putting it, actually. And she can balance those two, rather than blocking one off. No point not double-checking, but she can use that as a way to affirm her instinctive want to trust, rather than as a way of rejecting it completely.

All in all, they’re each incredibly lucky the other turned out to be worthy of that trust, aren’t they? If Verin were Black Ajah in purpose as well as in name, or if Egwene were truly powerless or incompetent, that could have gone very badly for one or both of them.

And now she has a babysitter again. Good timing, all things considered; she could have shown up five minutes ago and then where would they be? Still, I can absolutely sympathise with Egwene’s annoyance at someone interrupting what otherwise promises to be a solid chunk of reading time.

Slow clap to Egwene for managing to hide a bodyin half-truths.

She would simply have to wait. And read.

And RAFO.

Kind of literally.

She shoved aside the longing to embrace the Power and create a ball of light by which to read. She’d have to be satisfied with the single candle’s flame.

There’s something about this that feels rather…fitting. Symbolic, even. The Amyrlin Seat, the Flame of Tar Valon, dedicated to the victory of the Light, imprisoned and effectively powerless but for a single candle’s flame, with which to reveal the secrets that will help her bring down the Shadow. She doesn’t need enormous power, or a force of light; she will make do with a single candle’s flame. One candle against the Shadow, but it can be enough.

Especially contrasted against Natrin’s Barrow, just before this. Where all the light the Dragon Reborn with the Choedan Kal could summon couldn’t seem to keep the Shadow at bay and, if anything, seemed only to help it.

I just like the contrast of images, and of the moods the evoke. Rand, illuminated to the extent that he looks like little more than Power and light made flesh, and yet everything about it is cold and frightening and ominous. And then Egwene, quiet and unable to channel and alone in a dark room with nothing but a candle, and yet there is a sense of hope and energy and victory, of a much-needed true victory for the Light. Even if it is only a small candle against so much darkness, it is enough.

She’s gone straight to the list of names at the back of the book—I guess Egwene doesn’t share my aversion to spoilers.

Katerine, Alviarin, Elza, Galina, Sheriam…all names we already know, so far.

Steel yourself, Egwene, she thought, continuing to read down the list.

Steel yourself, as she reads through a list of women’s names. How…perfect. That has to be deliberate.

(A list of dead women’s names, one could argue; it seems unlikely most of them will be allowed to live).

She worked through the feelings of betrayal, the bitterness and the regret. She would not let emotions get in the way of her duty.

Here, again, we have a slight similarity to Rand that is actually more of a difference. True, she steels herself against the names on the list, hardens herself to face them. But more accurate, perhaps, to say she prepares herself to face them. She knows it will be hard, knows it will hurt – it already does; some of those names are already shocking or painful. This is not an easy task. And she also knows she can’t let emotion overcome her, or get in the way.

But she doesn’t shut it out. She works through the feelings of betrayal. She allows them to exist, and processes them, acknowledges them before setting them aside. She lets herself feel, even as she reminds herself to not let that get in the way of what she must do. It’s not a binary switch, a complete suppression of emotion to the point where she denies even its existence. She’s just…doing something difficult, but something that must be done. It hurts, and that’s part of it, and she can steel herself against it to some extent, but she doesn’t try to block it off entirely. She just has to get through it.

There’s a difference between setting aside emotion in order to approach something rationally and trying to shut it off altogether in an attempt to avoid the pain it causes.

Her role as Amyrlin demands that she read these names, and deal with the truths they reveal, and figure out what to do about it. And so she will, and she’ll do that even though it hurts Egwene to have to read them. But she doesn’t deny that part of her that is Egwene, that part of her that does hurt. She just works through it and puts it to one side for now, because now is a time for being Amyrlin.

Moria? Isn’t she the one who convinced the rebel Hall to vote in favour of an alliance with the Black Tower? Damn. I liked her; that was a good speech.

Each name was like a thorn through Egwene’s skin.

At least it’s not (yet) a white-hot line of fire across her soul.

I have to say, it’s not easy to make a character reading a list into an interesting or engaging scene, but this is well done. There’s a palpable sense of tension running through this whole section, even if most of it is simply names strung together with brief interludes of Egwene’s thoughts on them. It draws the reader’s focus alongside Egwene’s; we’re seeing these names through her eyes, an relentless assault of name after name that she has to confront, some of which area easy or mean very little, and some of which are harder, but she can’t dwell on them. The fact that we do only get those brief thoughts from her, before returning to the list of names, helps drive this feeling of urgency and also of…Egwene trying to hold herself together, in a way. Of pushing through and steeling herself and having to just keep reading, keep confronting truth after truth, trying to keep herself rational and calm and together.

So Elaida is not Black Ajah. Or at least, Verin was all but sure she isn’t. That’s no more surprising to me than it is to Egwene, but it’s good to have sort-of-confirmation.

Hi Nicola. Perfect timing yet again – both interruptions have come exactly when they’ll be the least incriminating or disruptive. First right after Verin died, and now right as Egwene has finished reading and hidden the books.

Hidden notes in the food; we’re deep into intrigue territory now.

And now Meidani stops by…and the ruse is up. Verin is very obviously dead and Meidani is understandably a bit ‘um what the fuck why is there a dead Aes Sedai in your bed’.

“Verin Sedai was poisoned by a Darkfriend shortly before her conversation with me. She was aware of the poison, and came to pass on some important information to me during her last moments.”

I love half-truths. An elegant lie spoken with not a single untrue word is honestly a thing of beauty.

Meidani paled, then looked at Egwene, likely wondering how she could be so callous. Good. Let her see the collected, determined Amyrlin. As long as she didn’t see a hint of the grief, confusion, and anxiety inside.

She can be that collected, determined Amyrlin…but she also doesn’t deny that the rest exists beneath that surface, even as she maintains it. She can hold a separation that isn’t a true denial or suppression. She can be callous when necessary, but she can also still feel that grief and confusion and anxiety.

And she also doesn’t spend time hating herself for having to be callous when callousness is necessary, because she accepts that necessity. She may not like it, but she doesn’t turn it against herself, doesn’t direct that pain inwards as some kind of punishment. Whereas I think part of the reason Rand has reached a point where the only way he can endure is to deny all feeling whatsoever, and simply accept that he is damned and there’s no point trying to save any part of himself, is that he internalised too much of that anger and pain at what he had to do, turned it into self-loathing and used it to punish himself for what he must do. And so now the only way he can be callous when needed and do what is necessary is by becoming that entirely; otherwise, the pain of his self-hatred at having to do any of it becomes too much. Easier to just accept that he’s damned and have done with it; he still hates himself but now he doesn’t have to fight against it.

Whereas Egwene doesn’t allow necessity to develop into that sharp-edged self-hatred, because she understands that it is simply necessity, and that she, Egwene, is still there beneath it. She can work through the emotions she feels and set them aside when needed, but she doesn’t spend time inflicting pain on herself as punishment for what she must do. Instead she embraces the pain she must endure, because she can hold onto the knowledge that she is doing all of this for a purpose, that there is a reason for both the pain and for the harder things she has to do, and that it will be worth it. That she’s fighting for something important enough to make those things worthwhile.

That all makes far more sense in my head than I can seem to get it to on paper but I tried.

Meidani’s basically here to act as a news feed: Elaida’s still Amyrlin but the Hall is pissed off, mostly.

“They informed Elaida that the Amyrlin was not an absolute ruler, and that she couldn’t continue to make decrees and demands without consulting them.”

Must—not—make—political—analogy—

“[Saerin] also noted that your own insistence that the Red Ajah not be allowed to fall—spread by a group of novices who overheard you—was part of what kept Elaida from being deposed.”

Sucks when doing the right thing makes your life harder. And yet she couldn’t have done anything else; she is here to heal the Tower and she cannot let another Ajah be broken apart if she is to do that. This is just a test of her resolve, really.

It smelled of a compromise; Elaida had probably met in closed conference with the head of the Red Ajah—whoever that was, now that Galina had vanished—hashing out the details. Silviana wuld still be punished, although not as strongly, but Elaida would submit to the will of the Hall.

But at least the government will remain open and the Aes Sedai won’t have to work without pay.

So not a perfect outcome, but it definitely seems as if things are tipping, slowly but more and more, towards Egwene. Though this may have played out too soon; it wasn’t quite enough to push Elaida over completely, and now the issue has been resolved, so there will have to be something else to push them again.

Luckily – for a given definition of luck – Tuon seems to have set something in motion that could do precisely that…

Given just a little more time, Egwene was confident she could get the woman overturned and the Tower reunited. But dared she spend that time?

She glanced at the table, where the precious books lay hidden from eyes. If she staged a mass assault on the Black Ajah, would that precipitate a battle?

Somehow I don’t think you’re going to be given the chance to find out. I’m not precisely sure how Egwene’s timeline lines up with Tuon and Rand’s, but I rather doubt, given the pace this book is setting, that Egwene’s going to be given much time to consider how to proceed before events decide it for her.

“I want you to report to the others. They must take Alviarin into captivity and test her with the Oath Rod. Tell them to take any reasonable risk to achieve it.”

Or not. Alright then. Egwene’s not wasting any time.

She may not be able to act on all of Verin’s information immediately, but she certainly isn’t going to just sit on it and wait for some sort of opportune moment. Fair enough; this is important enough and bigger than any personal goals she may have. Once again she’s putting the Tower ahead of herself: it’s not about becoming Amyrlin or gaining power for her own ends; it’s about healing the Tower and part of that, now, means taking the steps she is now in a position to take to eliminate the Black Ajah if she can. She’s not going to wait until it would give her a strategic advantage if she can do something about it now. And that is impressive. It would be so easy to hold everything back, to wait and make it part of a play for power. And maybe it still will be, but if it is, it won’t be because she’s withholding information or delaying acting for the sake of her own goals. It will be because that coincides with what she can do for the Tower in any given moment.

“It’s well known that [Nicola]’s one of your greatest advocates among the novices.”

It was odd to hear that of a woman who had effectively betrayed her, but the girl couldn’t really be blamed for that, all things considered.

How easily she can brush off that betrayal, now.

It’s growth even from Honey in the Tea, when the thing that broke Egwene’s determined calm was seeing Beonin and thinking Beonin must have been the one to betray her. Now, she’s moved past the point where it matters who betrayed her and why, because because again, it’s not about her, and holding a grudge against a novice won’t help the Tower, so what’s the point?

So Egwene sets Meidani to the task of ensuring that Alviarin is captured…and then just tells her essentially ‘oh and hide the body on your way out’. Bless.

And then she puts herself to sleep for a quick dream visit. Now that her bed is vacated of the corpse. I just…wow, Egwene. Wow. She has things to do and a Tower to heal, and she’s not going to let anything stand in her way. Or lay down and die in her way, as the case may be.

While she waits, she’s following all the possible trains of thought regarding Sheriam being Black Ajah, which basically results in a mess of what-ifs pretty much designed to cause system overload.

I do like the way we get a full three paragraphs of it; it conveys the full sense of both how tangled everything can get when you know even one person is Black Ajah, and the sense of panicked back-tracking trying to find all the possible places that could have had an effect, and also the sheer overwhelming impossibility of doing any such thing…but the difficulty of switching off that line of thinking, once you’ve started it.

What of Egwene’s own rise to power? How many of the Shadow’s strings did she dance on without knowing it?

That way lies madness, Egwene.

This is an exercise in futility, she told herself firmly. Don’t go down that path.

I should have just turned the page. But yes, that. It’s so easy to get caught up in that tangle of hypotheticals to the point where you paralyse yourself in terms of doing anything at all for fear of making things worse…but that’s not going to help anyone. She can’t look back; all she can do is look forward with more information now than she had before, and try to make the most of the situation she finds herself in. Trying to figure out all the possible ways in which she was pushed into it is tempting, but ultimately isn’t going to help her get anywhere. Find the winning move based on where the pieces are now, rather than wasting time trying to figure out how they got there.

For a moment, she felt herself to be the country girl many thought her to be. If Elaida had been a pawn for the Blacks, then so had she. Light! How the Dark One must have laughed to see two rival Amyrlins, each with one of his loyal minions at her side, pitting them against one another.

It is good that she can recognise this, though. She can’t afford to dwell on it, but she’s not arrogant enough to think that she’s somehow exempt from this manipulation. And there is a bit of anger at herself here…but she fairly quickly shifts it and refocuses it outwards rather than inwards, into determination rather than self-destruction:

Whatever his plan, she would fight him. Resist him. Spit in his eye, even if he won, just as the Aiel said.

There’s nothing she can do about what has already happened except learn from it and keep fighting, and find a way to move forward, find a way to turn what she has now into a position of strength.

“Siuan,” she said curtly. “You may want to summon yourself a chair. Something has happened.”

Siuan frowned. “What?”

“First off, Sheriam and Moria are Black Ajah.”

Don’t waste any time there. She did tell Siuan to summon up a chair, I suppose she figures that’s warning enough. I’m with you, Egwene, I hate small talk when there’s shit to be done.

“I need time to plan and think, an evening perhaps.”

An evening to process several decades’ worth of spying and research and a near-comprehensive list of hundreds of Aes Sedai who secretly serve the Shadow and to figure out how best to deal with all of that doesn’t seemlike too much to ask, especially as she’s not even getting any kind of overtime pay, but this genre being what it is…not sure you’re even going to get that much, Egwene. Think fast.

“This could be dangerous.”

And the award for UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE AGE goes to SIUAN FUCKING SANCHE.

“Are you still captive?”

“Not exactly. Elaida has—” Egwene hesitated, frowning to herself. Something was wrong.

You’ll have to be more specific, Egwene. The list of things that are wrong could fill Verin’s journals several times over.

Oh.

Shit.

She didn’t even get ten minutes, much less an evening.

Nicola shaking her arm. “Mother,” she was saying. “Mother!”

The girl had a bloody gash on her cheek. Egwene sat up sharply, and at that moment the entire Tower shook as if from an explosion.

And it was shaping up to be such a quiet, relaxing, peaceful evening.

Oh shit she can’t channel, can she? That’s uh….Bad.

It wasn’t Tarmon Gai’don, but it was nearly as bad. The Seanchan had finally attacked the White Tower, just as Egwene had Dreamed.

And she couldn’t channel enough Power to light a candle, let alone fight back.

GODDAMN IT SANDERSON THESE CLIFFHANGER CHAPTER ENDINGS ARE KILLING ME. Have some mercy for those of us who make terrible life choices and decide to liveblog these books!

Next (TGS ch 40) Previous (TGS ch 38)

#WHAT DID I EVER DO TO DESERVE THESE CLIFFHANGERS #Wheel of Time #neuxue liveblogs WoT #The Gathering Storm

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mldrgrl · 6 years

Text

36 and Four Minutes

by: mldrgrl Rated: PG-13 Summary: Based off a psychological study I read about a husband and wife team who attempted to create love in a lab. This is set the night before The Unnatural and hopefully acts as a precursor for the season of secret sex ;)

It had been a rough year, to say the least. Mulder could not remember a time in his life where so many shitty things seemed to happen in such a short period of time. The worst of it was, he could feel Scully slipping away from him, little by little. It scared him, to be honest, and he did not behave well when he was scared, which pushed her even further away than she already was. He needed something to bring them back together, to get them on the same page before Skinner took action and tried to send them to another team building seminar. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was attend a team building seminar, and he was fairly certain he was not going to find another pair of mothmen to get them out of it a second time should they be forced to go.

He learned about the study from one of his chats with Karin Berquist, of all people. Though the reclusive and anti-social dog behaviorist put all her energy into canine studies, that was not how she began her career. She told him to look up Arthur Aron’s 36 questions, which he did, and the study of lab-generated intimacy seemed like it would be the perfect tool to strengthen the bonds of his partnership, but first he had to get Scully on board, and that would be no easy task. She wasn’t really talking to him all that much since Phillip Padgett wreaked his havoc on their lives.

Getting her out of the office was essential. He didn’t want to be interrupted by work and he needed her to have her guard down a little. He thought about surprising her at home, but she wasn’t too keen on surprises and treated him with suspicion when he showed up at her door. Of course, every time he had shown up at her door unannounced, he always brought work with him, so she had every right to be suspicious. On Friday night, he took a shot in the dark while she was shutting down her computer for the day.

“You wanna grab a beer with me?” Mulder asked. He had come around to the front of his desk and rocked forward and back against the chair there as he watched her pack up.

“Now?” she answered, zipping up her bag. “I’ve got some things I need to do.”

“Now?”

“Yes. I’ll see you Monday.”

“What kind of things?”

“Mulder.”

He let go of the chair and moved towards her to help her with her overcoat. “Things I could help with?”

“Laundry.”

“Scully, it’s Friday night. Don’t tell me you’re turning me down for dirty clothes.”

“There’s also soe cleaning I need to do and catching up on JAMA.”

“Now I’m hurt.”

“It’s not about you, Mulder.”

The fleeting glance up at him she gave said otherwise and it made him even more determined to get her to come out with him. He had done some asshole things over the years and left her behind at times, chosen other options because he thought they were more important in the moment, but never did he do it because he simply didn’t want to be in a room with her, like she was doing now. It stung.

“Dinner is included,” he said, careful to keep all traces of desperation out of his voice. “My treat of course.”

“Look, I just…”

“...have better things to do?” He swallowed and then nodded, unintentionally playing into her sympathies as he slowly trudged back to his desk. “Some other time then. Have a nice weekend.”

“Mulder…”

“Yeah?”

“One beer.”

Once he had her on the hook, he sweetened the deal ever further by taking her to a bar he’d dropped in on a few times that was by her apartment. It had a relaxed atmosphere, served food, and he’d never seen it busy. They both parked in front of her building and walked the few blocks over to the little hole in the wall. They hung their jackets on a rack by the door and Mulder rolled up his shirtsleeves as he straddled a barstool at the far end of the bar.

At the other end of the bar sat two older men, engrossed in conversation. Behind them, in the middle section of a row of three booths, a man and woman sat together, also engrossed in conversation. At the back near the restrooms, a jukebox played at a pleasant volume, only loud enough to keep the conversations private.

So few and far between were patrons, the bartender had been lounging at his station reading a paperback. He had hopped to attention when the door scraped closed behind them and approached their corner with coasters and napkins at the ready.

“Shiner Bock,” Mulder answered when the kid, probably only just barely able to legally drink himself asked what he would have.

“Same for me,” Scully added. “What are you reading?”

“Um, it’s called Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus,” the young man answered, opening their bottles. “My girlfriend is making me read it.”

Mulder snorted softly. “What was the fight about?”

“She says I don’t listen. Well, she says I listen, but I don’t hear.”

“Could be an epidemic,” Scully said, inspecting a freestanding plastic menu on the countertop in front of her.

Mulder glanced her way and then raised his brows at the bartender. The bartender raised his back as though he understood completely.

“Any advice?” the kid asked.

“She’d probably be the first to tell you that I’m the last person you should ask,” Mulder answered, tipping his head towards Scully as he took his first sip of his beer.

“Relationships are work,” Scully said. “And they take time to cultivate. Take your time and do the work.”

“How long have you guys been together?”

“Seven years,” Mulder answered, just as Scully also replied, “Oh, we’re just…”

“Then you must be doing something right.” The kid glanced between the two of them and then straightened again. “Would you like to order anything?”

“Chicken salad sandwich,” Scully answered.

“Burger, medium rare,” Mulder said. After the kid walked away, Scully gave Mulder a bit of a scowl and he shrugged. “What?” he asked. “You walked into my office March of ‘92. It is now March 26, 1999. Happy late anniversary, honey.” He held his beer out at a slight angle close to hers.

After a few moments, Scully actually picked up her bottle and tapped it against Mulder’s. “I hadn’t even realized it’s been…that long.”

Mulder felt like this was the opening he’d been wanting. He nodded a little and turned towards her on his stool. “It is a long time. And you know, if we go back to what you just said, relationships take time to cultivate.”

“Yes.”

“I read this study recently about an experiment a psychologist performed back in the ‘60s where he wanted to see if he could scientifically cultivate relationships within a lab.”

“That sounds absurd.”

“Well, it worked.”

Scully laughed lightly and took a pull from her beer. “Worked how?”

“Their subjects were married within six months.”

“That’s not really proof of anything though.”

“Aren’t you curious how he did it?”

“You haven’t even told me what he did.”

“He developed a series of questions that people answer together and it can instantly bring two strangers into an intimate relationship.”

“Give me an example.”

Mulder took a sip of his beer and then held up a finger. He backed off the barstool and went over to his jacket on the rack. He fished out the paper that was folded in his breast pocket and went back to the bar.

“You have them with you?” Scully asked, raising her brow.

“You want to run our own experiment?” he answered.

“Let me see.” She held out her hand for his paper, but he held it away.

“There are rules. You can’t read them first. We take turns doing the asking, but we both have to answer.”

“Where’s the experiment in it?”

“Either it’s cultivating, or it isn’t.”

“We’re not strangers, though.”

“No, but...how well do we really know each other?”

There was a look of both surprise and agreement in Scully’s eyes. She took a long drink from her bottle and then placed it on the counter with extra care. She wiped her knuckle across her bottom lip and the corner of her mouth.

“You don’t know what these questions are?” she asked.

“Nope. I only read about the study.”

“What if there’s one we don’t want to answer?”

“I’m willing to answer all of them, whether I want to or not.”

“I don’t know if I can promise that, but alright. I’ll play.”

Mulder smiled and unfolded the paper. He grabbed a napkin from the bar and covered the printed list of questions so that they would stay hidden and then he placed the paper between them on the bar.

“Should we flip a coin to see who goes first?” he asked.

“Just start,” she answered. “Before I change my mind.”

“Number one. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”

“That’s easy,” she said, immediately after Mulder finished the question. “Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Oh, come on.”

“What?”

“You said once that you’d try to live in her body as a day, she can’t also be your answer for dinner guest.”

“Last I checked, there were no rules in this questionnaire.”

“Well, there is one rule, complete honesty.”

“And that is my honest answer. Eleanor Roosevelt.”

“Why?”

“She was an amazing woman with an amazing life and I’d like to know more about her from her own mouth. I would love to know how she accomplished all she did. I think she’d be just about the most fascinating dinner guest I could ever hope for.”

“Okay, fine.”

“And what would be your answer?”

“The King, of course.”

“I guess I should’ve expected that. Why, though? Why Elvis and why not...why not George Hale?”

“George Hale? Because I’m having a dinner party, not an astronomy symposium.”

“He’s got to be a better conversationalist though.”

Mulder made a noise of disagreement with his beer at his lips and shook his head. “I beg to differ. Elvis would have stories. Why would I pick George Hale?”

“Wouldn’t you want someone more...intellectually stimulating?”

“I mean, it’s dinner, not a life partner.”

“Oh.” Scully ducked her head a little and hid a smile in her beer.

“What?”

“Nothing. That’s just...good to know.”

He passed the paper her way. “Your turn.”

“Two. Would you like to be famous? In what way?”

Mulder screwed up his face a little. “No. But, I think the better question is, if I had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

“What would it be then?”

“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a pro baseball player. I wanted to play for the Yankees and I wanted to hold records and be in the baseball hall of fame.”

“Did you ever try to pursue it?”

“Nah. It was just a dream. It sort of died on the vine before I was even out of Little League.”

“You played Little League?”

“West Tisbury Diamondback, second baseman, number 14.”

Scully smiled as though she was picturing it. “How old were you?”

“Six. Six, I think, when I started. I was nine when I quit.”

“Why? You seem to really love it. Even still.”

“Things were already kind of rocky at home by then. It was just better if I...you know.”

“Oh.”

“So what about you?”

“No aspirations for fame.”

“But, if you had to be famous for something, what would it be?”

Scully took a few moments to think. She started to answer, then hesitated, and started again after another few moments. “I’d like to discover something,” she said. “Be the first to...find a cure for something or...just something in that arena.”

Mulder got quiet and scratched at the label on his bottle. “Like a cure for cancer?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“There’s still time.”

“No. I can’t imagine being locked in a lab somewhere running endless amounts of tests. No.”

He wanted to tell her that at least she’d be safe, but he knew she’d find it patronizing. Truthfully, he couldn’t imagine Scully spending her days in a lab any more than she could. But, really, he just didn’t want to imagine her anywhere but his side.

“Mulder?”

“What?”

“Your turn.”

“Right. Three. Before making a phone call, do you ever rehearse what you're going to say? Why?”

“Not now,” she answered. “I don’t have time to think when I make a call, usually.”

“You said not now, was there ever?”

A smile bloomed on Scully’s face and the apples of her cheeks turned a rosy hue. “There was one time, I was about twelve or so, and I kind of had my first crush.”

Mulder smiled as Scully was momentarily lost in the joy of her memory. She laughed to herself for a few moments and tucked her hair back over her ears. It was possibly the cutest thing he’d ever seen her do.

“I was sort of a tomboy growing up, you know?” she continued. “So, I really didn’t...I wanted him to see me as more than the girl he rode his bike to the beach with. And Melissa was the girliest girl I knew. Plus, she’d already had at least five or six boyfriends that I knew of, so I went to her for help.”

“What was this kid’s name?”

“Mikey.”

“I’m guessing you called Mikey in a Cyrano-like scenerio.”

“That is exactly what I did.”

“And what happened?”

“Crashed and burned. He kept asking me why I was being so weird and I was so mortified by the whole experience I cried into my pillow for the next week and refused to ride bikes with him again.”

“That is so sad.”

“It’s a good memory, though.” Scully flashed a smile at Mulder. “Missy felt terrible about it and it brought us closer.”

“I’m glad you have that.”

“Me too. So, do you rehearse your calls?”

“When I was with the VCU, sometimes I found it easier to work off a script if I had to make difficult calls. You know, if I had to question a grieving widow about her husband’s murder or a parent who just lost a child. I found that...it didn’t really work though. People are more responsive to authenticity.”

“I’ve always thought you were good with people.”

“You have?” He paused with his nearly empty beer close to his mouth, genuinely surprised.

“Yes.”

“Being good with people is not something I’ve ever been accused of.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Mulder put his beer down and his brows came together. He knew his shortcomings. He had issues with authority. He had no patience for arrogance or incompetence. He was sometimes unduly antagonistic with suspects. He truly didn’t understand how Scully could sit there and say he was good with people.

“You should see the look on your face right now,” Scully said.

“I’m just a little...are you joking?”

“Are you really unaware of how compassionate you are?”

“I...um…”

A lull in the conversation followed. Mulder stared at Scully and she stared at her beer. They’d only made it through three questions and already she’d shocked him, and it was such an innocuous question at that. He suddenly wished he’d read through all the questions so he could see what else might be coming.

“Number four,” Scully said, turning the paper towards her with her fingertips and breaking the silence. “What would constitute a perfect day for you?”

Mulder blinked and cleared his head. “Uh. Um, I think, probably waking up to a sunny day, not too hot, maybe going for a nice run and finding a pick up game of basketball. Ordering a really good pizza and watching the Yankees win the world series. No, being at the game behind home plate. That would be the perfect day.”

“I think the same as you, I’d like to wake up with the sun shining and a nice breeze. I’d probably go to the beach and then have someone take me out in a sailboat for awhile. I want to eat some really good seafood, sit in front of a bonfire for a bit, then end the day with a bubble bath and a glass of wine.”

“That sounds really nice.”

Scully shrugged.

“You want another beer?” he asked, noticing she was running low as he finished his.

“Sure.”

Mulder held up his beer bottle to get the bartender’s attention and then flashed two fingers at him. The kid came back with two more beers and took their empty bottles away.

“Food should be ready in about five minutes or so,” the kid said.

“Do you have any chips or pretzels?” Scully asked.

“Sure.”

“Getting comfortable?” Mulder asked her.

“We’re only on question five and I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I’m not getting any laundry done tonight,” she answered, and then thanked the kid when he slid a bowl of pretzels onto the bar between them. “Besides, if you’re buying, I might as well take advantage.”

Mulder chuckled and slid the paper back in his direction as she munched on a pretzel. He then let out a full laugh when he read the next question and looked at her with a wide smile.

“When did you last sing to yourself?” he asked. “To someone else?”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

“Yeah, but I want to hear you answer anyway. And I don’t know when the last time you sang to yourself was.”

“I don’t sing. I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. The last time I was forced-”

“No one forced you. I made a very polite request which you were kind enough to comply with.”

“Shut up, Mulder. You answer.”

“I sang in the shower this morning. A very soulful rendition of Heartbreak Hotel that would make angels weep.”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I’m sure.”

“And I don’t remember the last time I sang to someone. But, if we’re ever lost in the woods again, I want you to know I’d happily sing you to sleep and I’ll even take requests.”

“That is exactly why we’re never going into the woods ever again. Question six. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you choose?”

“Hm. Hm.” While Mulder was thinking about the question, their food was brought out. They took a pause to arrange their plates and then he returned to his thoughts. “So the problem is, this question assumes that there will be a decline both physically and mentally. I’m not even actually really worried about either.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, I plan to be as handsome and brilliant at 90 as I am today.”

Scully, about to take a bite of her sandwich, burst out laughing and had to put the sandwich back down. “That’s assuming you’re handsome and brilliant,” she said, wiping her greasy fingers with a napkin.

“Um, ouch.”

“You have to pick one.”

“Brains.”

“I think I would go with the body.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Don’t you remember that time on the Ardent? If that’s what it feels like to be physically old, I’m choosing the body.”

“Damn, I’d forgotten about that.”

“Looks like you’re losing the brains already.”

“Har har.” He gave her a fake glare before turning his attention to the next question. He pursed his lips and glanced at Scully as she finally took a bite of her dinner. “Um. Number seven. Do you...do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

“I don’t, remember?”

Mulder looked down at his burger. “You don’t have to answer this one.”

“I think we’ve both come too close to death not to think about it.”

“Yeah, but it’s not something I like to think about.”

“Facing your own mortality is-”

“You, dying,” he interrupted. “I don’t want to think about that.”

Scully wiped her fingers off with another napkin and then she turned herself towards Mulder and put a hand on his knee. “I plan on going in my sleep, peacefully, a long time from now.”

“You can’t plan on that.”

“Don’t get maudlin on me. Not when we’re having such a nice time.”

“You’re having a nice time?”

“I have free dinner, drinks, and good conversation. I’m having a nice time, so tell me how you think you’ll die.”

Mulder laughed and she squeezed his knee before returning to her sandwich. “I don’t know, but I’d like it to be the same as you.”

“You might want to think about that the next time you jump onto a moving train.”

“That’s why I need to keep my 30 year old brain intact to stop me from doing stupid things.”

“Hasn’t stopped you yet.”

“Touché.” He lifted his beer at her in salute and then took a drink.

“Number eight. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. Oh, I like this one.”

“I certainly didn’t think we had anything in common when we first met.”

“Well, we were both FBI agents.” She smiled at him as she brought her sandwich up to her mouth.

“Let me think.” He ate his burger, chewing slowly and washing down each bite with a sip of beer. He watched Scully nibble on a slice of pickle that was laid out behind her sandwich.

“Tick tock, Mulder.”

“Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Cheater.”

“We both like the same beer. And we both prefer music over talk radio.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Don’t what?”

“Prefer music.”

“Really? But…”

“I prefer that it keeps you occupied on long car rides. You get antsy when we listen to talk radio.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought that...I didn’t know you were being deferential.”

“It’s to save my sanity as much as yours.”

“We can listen to talk radio if you want.”

“Then I’d just miss out on your enthusiastic air guitar solos.”

Mulder actually felt himself blush at that. Scully never seemed to pay that close attention to him, whether she was driving or engrossed in a casefile.

“My turn,” she said. “We both prefer driving over flying. I think we are both good at what we do. And we have both lost loved ones because of it.”

“I wish we didn’t have that in common.”

“I do too.”

Mulder nodded softly before he moved to the next question. “Nine. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?”

“That’s difficult. I have a lot I’m grateful for.”

He left her to ponder while he ate his burger. He was already low on his second beer, but he didn’t want another quite yet. He didn’t intend to get drunk, and he didn’t want her to be either.

“That I’m here,” Scully blurted suddenly. “I am most grateful, above everything else, that I’m still here.”

“We can name that as another thing we have in common, because that’s my answer too.” He looked at her hand where it rested on the bar and wanted to cover it with his, but he didn’t.

“10,” she said. “If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”

“I wish I’d had parents that talked more. To me and to each other. You know, when it wasn’t silent, it was loud. I never knew which was worse.”

“It was always loud at my house. I used to wish for silences. I wouldn’t trade that chaos now for anything, but I used to back then. I guess I would’ve liked to have had my dad around a little more, but sometimes it was confusing when he was home.”

“How so?”

“My mother was a fairly typical woman of her time. She was devoted to her church, her husband, and her children, in that order. Most of the time, we saw her as a very capable, strong woman, until Ahab came home, and it was like he was the king and we were all his subjects. It was easier adjusting to new schools and new neighborhoods than it was adjusting to a mom who suddenly answered all questions with ‘go ask your father.’ And while she was strict, she still never ran as tight of ship as Ahab. Rules changed, bedtimes changed, everything changed in the weeks he’d be there.

“At first, when he’d come home, we were all pretty reverent. Happy to see him, excited he was home, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. The thing is, he was used to sailors who snapped to attention when all he had to do was walk by. He wasn’t accustomed to rowdy children who were different each time he returned. He loved us, of course, and we loved him, but I don’t know that we ever really knew each other.”

“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you talk about your father.”

“That’s probably the most I’ve ever really talked about it.”

“What would you change then?”

Scully tilted her head and squinted her eyes closed for a bit. “I think what I want, or what I would’ve wanted, is for my mother not to have made him so mythical. And I would’ve liked for Ahab to have acknowledged her more as an equal partner. Or even have acknowledged that she did more than he did.”

“They were happy though, weren’t they?”

“I think so.”

“Well, I think that counts for something.” Mulder paused and snorted when he read the next question. “Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible.”

“This is a question that would probably be easier to answer if we were strangers.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I feel like I’d just be boring you with things you already know.”

“We could skip it, if you really wanted to.”

“It feels a little redundant, don’t you think?”

“Okay. Well, go ahead with the next one then.”

“12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained one quality or ability, what would it be?”

“Easy. I’ve always wanted to be able to be invisible at will so I can get into any place at any time.”

“I think they mean real ability though.”

“Why isn’t invisibility a real ability?”

“Because people can’t be invisible.”

“Oh, you really want to debate that?”

“Okay, okay. Then I want the ability to know all languages.”

“I guess that would be kind of cool. Not as cool as invisibility, but still.” He leaned over to bump his shoulder with hers and she rolled her eyes. “13. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“I wouldn’t want to know the future, I know that much.”

“Why not?”

“It may not be something I like or want to hear. I think I would like to know where…” She stopped suddenly and sucked in her breath. He put a hand on her back and leaned forward to look at her. “I would like to know the truth of where Emily came from.”

“I’d like to know the truth about what happened to my sister.”

“Then again, Mulder, we may not like what we hear.”

He rubbed her back for a moment in a circle and then dropped his hand. She gave him a small smile and looked at the paper.

“14,” she said. Is there something that you've dreamt of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?”

“I did the thing I dreamed of doing a few years back.”

“What was it?”

“Visiting Graceland.”

“When did you visit Graceland?”

“Uh…” He gave her a sheepish look. “You were in Philly.”

“Ah. Well, lately I’ve been thinking about taking a cooking class or dance lessons-”

“Dance lessons! What kind of dance lessons?”

“Any kind. Or a painting class. Something that would put me in the world of other people doing normal things. As to why I haven’t done it, who has the time?”

Mulder was already racking his brain. It was too bad she didn’t mention wanting to learn baseball. He could teach her how to hit and they’d probably both have a lot of fun with it. She deserved some fun in her life. He looked over at her and saw she had a smear of mayonnaise on her cheek. Without thinking, he reached over and thumbed it off. It brought back memories of eating ribs and barbecue sauce on the corner of her mouth. She looked at him then like she was looking at him now, like a mixture of amusement and shyness, but she hadn’t pulled away then and she didn’t pull away now. He thought again about how grateful he was that she was still there beside him.

“Have you had enough?” Scully asked.

“Hm?”

“It’s your turn to ask.”

“Oh. 15. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?”

“Making it through the academy. In some ways, it was harder than med school.”

“Physically?”

“Mentally. Emotionally. I was one of only four women in my class. Two dropped out.”

“I never knew that.”

“Yeah, but I had the best shot out of all of them. That sure pissed some of those guys off.”

Mulder laughed and unconsciously rubbed the bullet wound in his shoulder.

“What’s your biggest accomplishment?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“What about the monograph that put away Monte Propps? That had to be pretty satisfying, all that hard work and putting away a serial killer in the end?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“It wasn’t satisfying?”

“I’d feel better about it if he hadn’t murdered 13 people first.”

“But your work stopped him from murdering even more. And it brought closure to the victim’s families. That has to mean something.”

“Alright, then that’s my biggest accomplishment.”

“It’s not about what I think though, Mulder, you’re supposed to tell me.”

He couldn’t tell her, though. He couldn’t sit there and tell her that his greatest accomplishment was that he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away. So he just shrugged and agreed that Monte Propps was his greatest accomplishment and had to look away because he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“16,” she said, quietly. “What do you value most in a friendship?”

“Loyalty,” he said.

“Honesty,” she countered, giving him a raised eyebrow, which he ignored.

“Number 17. What is your most treasured memory?”

For a moment or two, Scully looked like she was going to call him out on the change of subject, but she relaxed the tight expression on her face and her eyes moved up in thought. “My parents woke us up early one morning, before the sun was even up, put us in the station wagon and told us to just go back to sleep, we were going to visit a cousin of ours or something. Turns out they were surprising us with a day at Disneyland. Pulling into that parking lot I felt like I’d never been so excited for something in my life.”

“I guess a kid never forgets his first trip to Disneyland.”

“Did you ever go?”

“No. We didn’t really do the family vacation thing. Summer’s on the island, that was it. Not that I’m complaining. I had a lot of fun back then.” He paused for a second. “Actually, I’m going to say that my most treasured memory involved summer vacation. I had my first kiss and the first time I held hands with a girl on the same day.”

“What was her name?”

“Jenny. Jenny Johnson. Her family lived on the island year round. She had a sister Samantha’s age. Becky, I think. Or Betsy? That I can’t remember, but she and Sam used to play together. I had to watch Sam, Jenny had to watch her sister as well, so we ended up spending a lot of time together. We got permission to take the girls to a carnival that was in town one day and, I took my chances and kissed her when we were on this haunted house ride. Well, first I put my arm around her when she screamed, because I’m smooth like that.”

Scully laughed out loud against her beer bottle and stopped just before she took a drink. “A real Don Juan at--how old were you?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve. Keep going, I want the full story.”

“Well, it was the kind of ride where things pop out at you and stuff and at first it was a lot of surprise, but then it was just kind of silly, so we were laughing and just before the ride ended, I could kind of see in the dark that we were headed for the doors, and I just...leaned in and kissed her.”

“And then?”

“And then we were temporarily blinded by the sun, but when she blinked at me, she looked like the happiest anyone had ever looked to me. She grabbed my hand when we got out of the ride and we pretty much spent the rest of the day like that.”

“That isn’t really what I expected you to say.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, but not a sweet little summer romance.”

“Little is right. By the next day, all Sam could talk about was Fox and Jenny sittin’ in a tree, and I got pissed, and then Jenny got pissed that I was pissed and accused me of being embarrassed of dating an islander--I didn’t even know we were dating or what dating really was, and it that was pretty much the end of that. But, that day at the carnival. It was perfect.”

“I guess that’s a good segue into number 18. What is your most terrible memory?”

“Ah, well. I’m going to have to be predictable here and say the night Samantha...well…”

“Yeah. And I’ll say when I found out Melissa…”

“Kind of a shitty thing to have in common.”

“I’ll say.”

“You’re empty,” Mulder said, nodding at Scully’s beer as she tipped her head back and drained the rest. “Another round?”

“I’ll pass.”

“If you change your mind, say the word.”

“You’ll be the first to know.”

“19. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?”

Scully went quiet, her thumb circling the lip of her empty beer bottle. Her gaze seemed to lack direction, like she was staring at nothing. The silence was so prolonged, Mulder became attuned to the jukebox again. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams was playing.

“Bet you wish you had that third beer,” he said, uncomfortable with the stall in conversation.

A small smile lifted the corners of Scully’s lips, but she still didn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to,” Mulder said.

“I’ll answer. I’m just forming my thoughts.”

“Take your time.”

Another bout of silence passed and finally Scully sighed. “When I thought that I was going to die, when the cancer...when I thought I wouldn’t make it out of the hospital, I tried to make peace with the things I would never do. I didn’t want to leave this world with regrets. So, I...I wrote letters. To my mother. To my brothers. To...you. And then I realized how unfair that was, how selfish it was to write the things down I could never say, but not let you do the same. So, I tore them all up.”

His curiosity was instantly piqued. “What did they say?”

“Maybe if there’s a question in there about things unsaid, I’ll tell you. But, to answer this question, when I found out I was in remission, that I was going to be fine, I told myself it was a second chance at some of those things I’d always wanted to do. It’s been, what, two years? I don’t think I’ve done any of them.”

“Let’s change that. Let’s do something on your list.”

“Maybe none of it was as important as I thought it was, if I haven’t done them yet. Or maybe I just didn’t learn the lesson. No, I don’t think I would change anything about the way I’m living now. I’m happy enough with...everything.”

It was the ‘happy enough’ that struck Mulder. He had a notion that there might be one or two things she would change that she was holding back on, but he wasn’t going to push. It was a difficult question to answer and he was struggling himself to come up with something to say.

“All that really matters is whether or not I was a good person,” Scully continued. “Right? To...to God, to those left behind. That’s what’s going to matter in the end. Not whether or not I...I don’t know, walked the great wall of China or something.”

“Is that on your list?”

“No.” Scully laughed. “I was trying to think of a common bucket list item for most people.”

“I feel like the most common bucket list item would be jumping out of an airplane.”

“Okay, then. Is that really going to matter down the line?”

“Probably not. But, you’ll have a good story for the grandkids.”

“Ah, well.”

As soon as he said it, Mulder felt like an ass. He meant it as a figure of speech, but he realized too late that it would bring up some unpleasant truths. Scully would never have grandkids - unless by some miracle. And she didn’t even know the whole story. He rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably.

“Uh, I think I’d do some things differently,” he said.

“Such as?”

“Get out of the office more. Do something fun on a Saturday night that doesn’t involve the gunmen starting arguments in internet chat rooms.”

“Is that what you guys do on the weekend?”

“Not every weekend.”

“Mulder, that’s just sad.”

“And what’re you doing on a Saturday night, Miss Scully? Laundry?”

“Alright, we both need lives.”

“I’d toast to that, but I’m out of beer, and I need to hit the head anyway.” He slid off the barstool and looked to the kid who was filling a drink order at the other end of the bar.

“You want me to order you another?”

“No, I’m good. Be right back.”

Mulder quickly used the restroom and stared at his reflection in the spotted, foggy mirror as he washed his hands. This was the most he’d ever really talked with Scully and he was enjoying himself. He wondered if he could find a way to make it a regular thing. Maybe then his Saturday nights wouldn’t feel so empty.

When he came back to the bar, he slowed his step. The remnants of their food had been taken away and there was a glass of iced tea in front of his seat. Scully looked like she was nursing a diet Coke.

“Didn’t want you to get parched,” she said, as he took a seat.

“Thanks.”

“So. Number 20. What does friendship mean to you?”

Mulder squeezed the wedge of lemon perched on the side of his glass into his tea. He thought about the gunmen, who he spent Saturday nights with or came to for help with technological problems, but didn’t confide all that much in. He thought about passing friendships he’d had in school or in the early days of work, people he went out for occasional beers with, but never saw outside the bullpen. And he thought about Scully, who he felt knew him inside and out and never held things he might have said in the heat of the moment against him, and ordered him iced tea because he might get thirsty.

“I guess it means everything to me,” he said. “I don’t know what I would do without…” He stopped short of specifying Scully by name, but by that point he was only thinking about his relationship with her. “Without someone to talk to,” he finished.

“Someone to rely on,” she said.

“Exactly. What about you?”

“That’s my answer. It means someone to rely on. I think everyone needs that in their life.”

“Agreed. 21. What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

Scully snorted and spoke into her glass. “Not nearly enough as I’d like.”

“Which part?”

“Both.” She sighed. “No, that’s not true. There is love in my life, though I’ll admit I could do better at it. And affection...is something I think I’ve always struggled with. I don’t dislike it, I’ve just never been very comfortable with it either.”

“So, you could use more love and try harder with affection?”

“Maybe. But, I think to answer the question I’d have to say, it probably doesn’t play as significant a role as it could, or even should.”

“That’s interesting.”

“Why is it interesting?”

“Because I feel like you have so many people in your life that love you.”

“Who, my mother? My brothers?”

“Hey, that’s three more than I’ve got.”

“Mulder, I lo...I think you’re wrong about that.”

“Name them.”

“We’re off track. You haven’t answered yet.”

“I’m a big fan of love and affection. When it’s in my life, I think it’s pretty great. I wish it didn’t come and go so easily, because it’s hard not to have it. Sometimes I think I need it as much as I want it.”

“Maybe you’ll find it once you start living it up on Saturday nights.”

“Maybe you will too.”

“22. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items.”

“You are unbelievably smart.”

“I like how gentle you are.”

“Gentle?”

“When you deal with people in difficult situations. We discussed it however many questions ago. You’re very gentle and I like that about you. I’ve appreciated it in my own difficult situations.”

“Oh.” Mulder blinked. It gave him a warm feeling to know he’d done something Scully appreciated. “Um. You are the most dependable person I know.”

“You are the most passionate person I know.”

“Is that just codeword for stubborn?”

“Maybe.”

Mulder grinned. “What are we at, three? You are more warm than I think you give yourself credit for.”

Scully scrunched her face as though she disagreed.

“See,” he said.

“I think you always do things with the best of intentions.”

“You don’t take shit from anyone, especially me.”

“You…” She closed her eyes and her brows came together.

“Uh oh, I only have three good qualities?”

“I just want to phrase this right. You have an ability to empathize at will.”

“I’ll have to ponder that one later. Last one? I don’t know if I would call it stamina, but for all that you’ve endured, you get back up, you keep fighting, you’re still here, and you’re stronger every time. Resilience, maybe, but it’s more than that. It’s...you’re just incredible, Scully, you really are.”

Scully’s eyes grew glassy and wet. “Dammit, Mulder,” she muttered, wiping her knuckles across her lashes.

“If the next question is what are negative qualities your partner possesses, I’ll start with unable to take a compliment, how about that?”

In response, Scully gave Mulder’s bicep a shove and he laughed as he pretended to slip off his barstool. She wiped her eyes again and then took a drink.

“I admire your ability to be free with your feelings,” she said. “Next question.”

Not that free, Mulder thought, looking at the paper. “Number 23. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?”

“Close-ish. Not very warm, but warm enough. I don’t think my childhood was more or less happy than anyone else’s. It was sufficient for me, maybe not so much for Charlie or Melissa.”

“What about Bill Jr.?”

“He thrived on routine and order, as you can imagine.” She smiled and then laughed softly. “He would probably say it was idyllic.”

“I’m going to have to say my childhood was less than idyllic, not warm and not close. I don’t think that will come as a surprise to you.”

“Was it always like that though? Even before your sister was…”

“It was tumultuous. I didn’t really know it at the time, I just thought everyone had parents who yelled at each other when they were together, or dads who worked all the time and hit them when they weren’t home when the streetlights came on. It took me a long time to realize it wasn’t great.”

Scully reached over and covered Mulder’s hand with hers, giving it a squeeze. “I’m sorry that you went through that.”

“I made peace with that a long time ago.”

She nodded and withdrew her hand. “Oh, nice follow up question. 24. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Mulder sat back and sipped his iced tea. He pulled an ice cube into his mouth with his tongue and rolled it back and forth for a few moments before crunching down on it and shattering it into tiny pieces. When he was finished, he sucked in his bottom lip and scraped his teeth across it.

“It’s complicated,” he said. “I wish it weren’t. I think I’ve done a lot in my life to try to...to please her somehow, to make her proud, to protect her, to just...I don’t know. I’m not even sure she appreciates it, but I’ll do it anyway because she’s my mom. I don’t know if what I’ve done for her is out of love or obligation.”

“Sometimes it can feel like that same thing.”

“That’s for damn sure.” Mulder pulled another piece of ice into his mouth.

“I don’t think my mother and I understand each other very well. I know she wanted a different life for me, but also wanted me to forge my own path. I think she also thought at some point it would merge with her own ideals. She makes me feel guilty a lot for not being as present as she’d like me to be. I think our relationship is more about her than it is about me. I suppose that’s fine, but I’d also say she doesn’t know me as well as she thinks she does.”

“Would you like it to be better?”

“Does it sound awful to say that I don’t think I need it to be?”

“Not if that’s the truth.”

“I don’t need it to be.”

“Okay then. Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "we are both in this room feeling..."

“That’s kind of a weird question. Okay, we are both FBI agents.”

“Oh, come on!”

“We eat together quite often, but it’s been a long time since we’ve had dinner together, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“And, we haven’t talked like this in a long time.”

“Have we ever?”

“There were some times back in the early days of our partnership where we dug a little deeper. Never to this extent, but we’ve had some moments.”

“We should do this more often. That’s my first we statement, by the way, and a general comment. We should do this more often. We make a great team. And we both enjoy the same beer.��

“26. Complete this sentence, "I wish I had someone with whom I could share..."

“Huh. I don’t know that there’s a lot I don’t share with you.”

“Well, that isn’t the question.”

“I know, but what I’m saying is...I mean, I don’t really feel like I’m not sharing something. If there’s something I want to share, I share it with you.”

“There’s got to be something though.” She shook her head dismissively. “You share your slideshows and your theories and your strange depth of knowledge, but not…”

“Not what?”

“I don’t know, life things. What are life things that people share? Intimate things. Their...toothbrushes, their inner demons, their beds, their hopes for the future.”

“Is that your answer? Is that what you want to share with someone?”

“Of course I do, but at the same time, absolutely not.”

“I think we’ve shared some hopes with each other, and definitely demons. As for toothbrushes and beds, just say the word.”

“Are you telling me that you feel fulfilled right now?”

Mulder was momentarily tongue-tied and stuttered out an answer. “I don’t think I can say I feel unfulfilled Are there things I want? Sure. Intimate things? Yeah. I think that desiring emotional or even physical intimacy is a different question from what would I like to share with someone?”

“I think it’s the same.”

“And I would argue that saying I want someone to share a meal with at the end of every day is completely separate from saying I wish I had someone to hold me every night. Both answers imply a desire for intimacy, but a meal is a shared experience and the other is somewhat selfish. So, personally, I don’t interpret the question in that way, but if you want to qualify it and remove ‘share’ from the equation, I wish I had someone with whom I could spend a night with and would still be there in the morning. Absolutely.”

An extended silence followed, one in which Mulder could feel the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. He never intended to lay the burden of his ache for intimacy at her feet. Not like that. And now it was out in the ether and he couldn’t take it back. Sure, he could make a self-deprecating joke about it, but then it might devalue the whole purpose of the questionnaire. He wished he could tell what she was thinking, but her face was shadowed, her expression hidden by the angle of her chin, down and away.

“Alright,” Scully finally said. “You make a valid point. But, I would like to add that I believe the examples you’ve given can also be a shared experience. You can want someone to share a night with, and then wake up and share the morning as well.”

“Then the most basic answer would always be that you want someone to share your life with.”

“That’s true, but...”

“And I also think in order to be shared, it has to be reciprocated as well. You have to give of yourself, but you have to be willing to receive as well.”

“I suppose if you’re not willing to open yourself up like that, it wouldn’t be a whole life, it would be half a life.”

“I didn’t say I was unwilling.”

“Well, I didn’t either.” She hesitated on her next breath and then laughed a little. “And I honestly don’t even know what the point is that we’re trying to make anymore.”

Mulder sighed silently in relief that the tension he felt was bubbling had burst with her laughter and then hesitantly turned the paper towards him. “Uh, number 27. If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

“I’m sure you already know this, but I don’t open up very often. And I don’t do need very well.”

“I know tonight is an anomaly. That we probably won’t discuss it in the morning, or ever again. It doesn’t have to be that way though.”

She shifted in her seat and tucked her hair back over her ear. “Just answer the question.”

“I’d need her to know that I can be a bit of a stubborn asshole. And that sometimes I am blinded by need and I don’t make the best decisions.”

“28. Tell your partner what you like about them: be honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met.”

“That implies I wasn’t being honest the last time I answered the question.”

“Maybe for strangers they could only answer more superficially until they got to know each other.”

“What, things like, I like your eyes or your hair or the way the top of your nose moves when you speak?”

Scully reached up and touched the bridge of her nose between her brows almost self-consciously and then brought her hand down just as quickly and wrapped it around her glass. “I think we can skip this one, unless you feel like there’s something you left out.”

“I do like more than three things about you, Scully.” He smiled and leaned into her teasingly. “But, if your quota was met earlier we can move on.”

“I do happen to like that stubbornness of yours. Just so you know.”

“You do?” He leaned back and scrutinized her, genuinely surprised. “Why?”

“You don’t give up easily, whether it’s on cases or on people. It’s that steadfast determination that gets you results where others may not.”

“I might have to remind you of this the next time you tell me to let something go. 29. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life.”

“I was quite bookish in school.”

“No!”

Scully gave Mulder a flash of a scowl. “I won an award for a state science fair when I was in sixth grade, of which I was very proud of, but you know, other kids don’t really appreciate that kind of thing.”

“Kids are jerks.”

“No one would’ve ever had to know, but the principal read it over the PA in our morning announcements and well...it was bad enough that attention was called to it, but for the rest of the school year, this kid, Stevie, would salute me every time I walked into class and called me Dr. Nerd.”

“Uh, not to diminish your feelings, but Stevie’s the one who should be embarrassed. That’s the lamest nickname anyone has ever come up with in the history of nicknames.”

“Any nickname earned, however lame, can seem like the worst insult in the world when you’re ten.”

“True. I bet you can rest assured that Stevie hasn’t gone on to much success in life.”

“Who knows.”

“Well, contrary to what you might believe, I was not always as agile and suave as I am today.”

“Oh, is that what I believe?”

“I was also ten in my story and I was at a birthday party at a skating rink for arguably the prettiest girl in school, but I was a pretty lousy skater. I made it one round around the rink, mostly holding on to the side, and when I let go and tried to participate in the skate chain, I went ass over elbows in front of the entire class, but all I cared about was that I’d just ate shit in front of Cindy Palmer.”

Scully started laughing before he’d even made it to the punchline, like she might know what was coming. She made a sympathetic noise over her chuckles. “That’s terrible,” she stuttered and giggled at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”

“Childhood is rough. The smallest things seem like the end of the world.”

“That they do.”

“Lay the next one on me, Dr. Nerd.”

Scully gave Mulder a soft kick on the shin with the side of her foot. “When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself?”

“Few weeks ago when you went to get cleaned up after…” He gestured to his chest. “Padgett.”

“That would be my answer for both parts of that question.”

“I don’t have a real hang-up about crying in front of people. I can’t really remember the last time, but I’m sure it was you.”

“Fair enough. 31. Tell your partner something that you like about them already. Oh come on, we’ve answered this about six times.”

“Skip it. Number 32. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Death of a child.”

“I was gonna say nothing is too serious, but I’m going to agree with you there.”

“Number 33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?”

“Wow. Um…”

“Yeah, this one might be a little…”

“I think I need a minute.”

“Take your time.”

The first thing that came to Mulder’s mind was that he would tell Scully how much she meant to him, but it conjured up memories from his hallway and really he’d already said what he’d needed her to hear. He could reiterate it right here, right now, but it didn’t feel like the right time, to say it only because he was being prompted by a silly questionnaire. If she were a stranger, he would answer honestly, that he had communicated those things one time, he just wished it wasn’t one of those things they didn’t talk about. He chose a different option instead, one that was still truthful, but felt less necessary for him.

“I would want to tell my mother that I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for her,” he said. “Couldn’t find my sister and couldn’t make her happy. As to why I haven’t already told her, well there’s a big part of me that knows it isn’t my fault and that I’ve done everything I could.”

“It isn’t your fault. You have done everything you could, more than enough, Mulder.”

“Logically, yes, I know that. And I shouldn’t have to apologize for it, but I still feel compelled.”

Scully curled her hand over Mulder’s forearm and let it rest there for a few quiet moments. He gave her an appreciative smile and then put his hand over hers. He expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. They stayed like that until the loud scrape of a barstool across the floor broke the solace. He reached for his iced tea and she leaned back on her stool.

“I can’t answer the question,” Scully said, her voice almost at a whisper. “There are reasons that...I just can’t.”

Mulder shrugged. “You don’t need to explain it. It’s just a silly questionnaire.”

She looked down and plucked at the skin next to her thumbnail. “It’s not silly and I should...I lack the courage to...it’s because I lack courage that I can’t answer.”

“You can have half a point for answering the second part of the question.”

She looked up at him and there was pain in her eyes. He couldn’t tell if her anguish was from not being able to answer, or what she would answer if she could. He reached over and swept his hand up and down her back a few times.

“You’re the most courageous person I know,” he said. “That won’t change.”

“Yet I can’t even answer a simple question.”

“It’s not that simple. Let’s just do the next one, we’re almost done. Number 34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be and why?”

“I want you to know that I want to answer it, Mulder. I do.”

“Answer it when it’s the right time, Scully. You’re gonna be around a long time.”

In the silence that followed the deep and uncertain breath Scully took, Mulder changed the format of the questionnaire and just answered.

“Well, since it says I’ve already gotten my fish to safety,” he said. “I think I’d have to rescue my lamp.”

Scully cleared her throat. “Your lamp?”

“My Saturn lamp. My grandfather - my mother’s father, the only grandparent I ever met - got it for me when I was about four or five. It was my nightlight when I was a kid.”

“That’s adorable, Mulder.”

“I mean, I think the couch is pretty unreasonable and I can get a basketball anywhere.”

“No, it’s a good choice. I’d take a photo album I have that was given to me by my grandmother.”

“Mom’s side or dad’s side?”

“Dad’s.”

“Also pretty irreplaceable.”

“Yeah.”

“We went out of order, so go ahead with the next one.”

Scully hesitated when she turned the paper closer and there was a slight hitch in her breath. “I think we’ve already answered this as well,” she answered, and then pushed the paper over to Mulder.

“35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why? I guess in my case missing might as well be dead and even if your sister hadn’t-”

“I wasn’t going to answer with Melissa,” she interrupted. “It was awful, yes. It’s one of the worst things I’ve been through. But, it’s not the worst thing.”

Mulder puzzled over her answer for a moment and almost had to ask if she was referring to her father or mother, but it dawned on him suddenly and he pressed his lips together in a tight line. The death of a child is a very serious thing. He never really knew the true extent of her feelings about Emily because she wouldn’t share them, but he knew she was mired in silent grief for some time. There had been a real lack of joy in her in the months that followed, one he thought had never really returned.

“It never occurred to me,” Mulder said. “To think that…”

“I didn’t think it would. Actually, it didn’t occur to me either until just now.”

“I don’t think I ever told you how sorry I was.”

“It isn’t you who should be sorry. And you were right, it was never meant to be.”

“I shouldn’t have-”

“No. You were right. It doesn’t mean I didn’t want her, wouldn’t have gladly taken her, quit the FBI, moved to a tiny town somewhere in the hopes that no one could get to her, but the circumstances were what they were. Even if there was a way to treat her, the price would have been too great, I think, and it would’ve just been buying a piece of time. I’ve been trying to accept that as fact. Some days I can, some days I can’t.”

“Grief doesn’t really follow a strict timeline.”

“Sometimes I’m not even sure what I’m grieving; if it’s for her or the idea of her. The loss of what I don’t have.”

“Maybe it’s both. Do you want…”

“A child? I’m not even sure. I know I’m angry that the choice was taken away from me, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to explore my options or if I’ll ever be. On the other hand, I can hear it ticking.”

“Are we talking about the proverbial biological clock here?”

“Tick. Tick. Tick. Sometimes faintly, sometimes loudly, reminding me that I’m not getting any younger.”

“Well, if you ever do decide to explore those options, I’ll help you in whatever way I can.”

Scully tipped her head and gazed at him sideways. “I’ll remember that,” she said. “If I ever reach a conclusion.”

Part of him felt this conversation was an opening to come clean about the full truth of her missing ova, but he wasn’t going to do that to her if she hadn’t even decided she wanted a child. He didn’t want to hurt her unnecessarily further if the verdict was still out. It was a burden he’d held for such a long time and he wasn’t keen on making it hers as well, even if it was technically her burden. He would rather carry that cross for her and never let her know he was carrying it if he didn’t have to.

“So,” she said, sitting up taller and shaking off the melancholy that had settled momentarily on her shoulders. “We went out of order again kind of. Go ahead with the last one.”

“Okay, final question. Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.”

“Well, I can’t seem to get my laundry done when I need it because my partner is always keeping me out nights.”

“Send it out to a service. That’s what I do.”

She smiled. “Just give me a minute, I’ll think of something.”

“Maybe you’re lucky enough to be problem-free. Laundry aside.”

“The only pressing issue I can really think of is how to tell my brother I’d rather not visit for the 4th of July. He’s been sort of pestering me to come out, but if I decide to take a vacation this summer, I’d rather do something relaxing.”

“Like going to Maine?”

“Not Maine.”

“It’s Stephen King territory, Scully, you should’ve known you’d find a possessed doll up there the minute you set foot in the state.”

“Does that mean I’d have better or worse chances of an x-file finding me on a tiny island somewhere in the Caribbean.”

“That probably depends on how close to the Bermuda Triangle you plan to be. But, a tropical island? Really?”

“Might be nice to lay in a hammock and read a book or two.”

“You mean highlight your latest edition of JAMA.”

“At least I’d be on a beach while I’m at it.”

“Blame it on me. Even if you didn’t, I’m sure Bill would do it for you, so just give him the satisfaction of being right as you let him down easy.”

“I’m not gonna blame you to spare his feelings. You don’t deserve that.”

“I guess you can go with the truth then. Just tell him you need a break. You’re using up your days off for some much needed alone time.”

“That’s probably all I can do, but I know he won’t understand.”

“Then that’s his problem.”

“And now I’m supposed to ask you how I feel about this dilemma?”

“Still on the fence, I’d say. You’re gonna want more time to mull it over and probably put it off a bit longer.”

“Correct.”

“Here’s my problem. I want to ask my partner if she’d entertain the idea of coming into the office tomorrow morning, not all day or anything, just for a little while. But, I know she has all that laundry to do that she could send out, and curling up in the titillating world of JAMA, and I certainly don’t want to take that away from her.”

Scully groaned.

“See, big problem,” he said.

“I need more information. Why do you want your partner to come in tomorrow? What could you possibly want to do in the office on a Saturday when we don’t have something taking us out of town?”

“I ordered some Roswell newspaper volumes from archives about a month ago and they finally came in.”

“Newspapers. From Roswell.”

“The 1940s. Wouldn’t it be fun to peruse old-timey articles about mysterious lights in the sky and government cover-ups?”

Scully groaned again.

“Any advice for this problem of mine?”

“Yes. Don’t ask.”

“I hear it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

“So.”

“So she won’t be missing anything by staying indoors. What if I offered to buy her lunch?”

“Not good enough.”

“Breakfast?”

“Not listening.”

“Snacks from the vending machine every hour?”

“Your problem is going to wear a hole in your pocket.”

“Is now a good time to reflect on how I’m feeling?”

“There’s an air of desperation about you. You’re still wondering how best to wear me down, and you know it’s only a matter of time before I say yes, but you’ll still be wondering if I’ll show up until I walk in tomorrow morning.”

“Does that mean my problem is solved?”

“It means you’ll have to wait to find out until tomorrow morning.”

“I guess that’s better than nothing.”

“There’s something else on this paper.” Scully furrowed her brow and pushed the paper towards Mulder while keeping her fingers on it. “Instructions.”

“You’ve reached the end of the questions. The final task is to stare silently into your partner’s eyes for four minutes. It’s important to finish with this step. Some people have described this step as thrilling and terrifying. Good luck.”

“You’ve got to me kidding me.”

“We don’t have to.”

“You know I’m not going to leave something half-assed.”

“I just thought it was fun questions.”

Scully sighed and then downed the rest of her watery Diet Coke. She dropped the glass down on the bar with more force than necessary and turned on the stool to face Mulder.

“Got a timer on your watch?” she asked.

“I do.”

“Set it.”

He did as she asked and then laid his arm down on the bar so she could see it. She grabbed his wrist and after a glance, let him go and rested her arm in front of his, glancing her fingers off of his as she pulled away.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Go.”

Mulder only glanced down to start the timer and then he met her gaze. It was awkward at first, with her looking so defiant and both unaccustomed to really looking that purposefully at each other when they weren’t debating a casefile. Her face finally softened a bit and she gave a small tilt of her head as though she was trying to read something off of him. He hoped she couldn’t read his thoughts in that moment, that was for sure.

Just before she tilted her head, her eyelids dropped in a half-blink and then opened again and he saw in her what he felt like he was on the verge of really seeing in his hallway two years ago, but had tamped down. He envisioned himself rising from his stool, kicking it out of the way, taking her face in his hands, pushing his fingers through her hair, and kissing her for all he was worth, once and for all. He felt his lips part in anticipation, licked them closed, and swallowed.

Suddenly, Scully’s eyes turned glassy and she looked away, pulling back from him with a slight slump, but he reached out and touched her arm, laying his hand down over hers and she blinked back up at him. She looked terrified, but he dipped his head a little and tried to tell her it was alright by widening his eyes just a little and nodding. He understood. This was not a game. He wanted her to know he was sincere and grateful that she did this with him. He cherished her answers. He cherished that she listened. Above all, he simply cherished all of her.

Four minutes could feel like a lifetime. By the time Mulder’s watch went off, Scully looked a little less afraid, but she quickly averted her eyes again at the sound of the beep and pulled her hand out from under his. He didn’t turn away though, and blindly silenced his watch. She stared at the rows of alcohol above the back of the bar until he cleared his throat and swiveled forward in his seat.

“So, we should do this more often,” he said.

“Yeah,” she answered, with a slight scoff. She turned her head towards him though, smiled softly, and then looked down at her lap. “I did have a nice time.”

“I’m glad. Let me get the check and we’ll get out of here.”

He helped her into her coat after he’d paid and then slung his own over his shoulder. Twilight had set in and the streets were quiet. They stopped under a street lamp in front of her apartment, near her car. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at her feet for a few moments.

“Thank you for dinner,” she said.

“Don’t forget, my offer for breakfast, snacks, and lunch still stands.”

“It’s possible I won’t turn it down. It’s also possible I will.”

“I know, you’re always trying to keep me guessing.”

“Keeps you on your toes, doesn’t it?”

“Always.”

Scully smiled and he realized he’d seen her smile more tonight than he had in years. It looked good on her. On impulse, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, nearly catching the corner of her smile. Her eyes followed his retreat and the slight upturn of her lips was still in place.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“Just because. I’ll see you tomorrow. Or Monday.”

“What if I were to want something from the deli on 13th and E?”

“Done.”

“I’ll add it to the things to consider.”

Mulder turned and took a few steps on his tip-toes towards his car. He heard Scully chuckle and he gave her one last glance over his shoulder. He made a promise to himself in that moment to surprise her with something fun, something she’d least expect. He didn’t know what it was yet, but he’d think of something.

The End

#i wrote this #xf fanfic #mulder #scully #msr #ust #friendship #The Unnatural #pre-ep #don't read the study first if you don't want spoilers

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leviloviatar · 6 years

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I read a comment on a gendrya post that said Arya would never want a Baratheon, she is meant to be with Jaqen like Lyanna with Rhaegar and that Arya and Lyanna both prefer intellectuals?? I mean Jaqen is too old for Arya it‘s just disgusting and just because Gendry is uneducated doesn‘t mean he‘s stupid? He may not know how to read and write (which isn‘t his fault) but he has street smarts and he has a good understanding of the society they live in which is impressive for a 14/15 year old boy

I feel so terrible for you my poor anon that you even had to read such garbage so I’m sending you all my love and support. Technically, this anti’s argument is so stupid that I don’t even need to address it - BUT I WILL. At length.

The point being argued here is erroneous on several counts: First, it equates Jaqen with Rhaegar which makes no sense and I would love for someone, anyone, to explain to me in what ways they are the same? Second, it assumes that Gendry is not “intellectual” while simultaneously assuming that Jaqen H’ghar is. (Bet they didn’t have any textual support for that). Third, it assumes that there are any romantic feelings or potential for them whatsoever between Arya and Jaqen H’ghar, while blatantly ignoring the abundance of romantic connotations between Arya and Gendry, and then in an incredible leap of logic that literally defies explanation, equates that glaring oversight to Arya’s “preference” being like Lyanna’s.

May I just say, at the outset, what the actual fuck?

Moving on. My best guess it that the assumption here is “Arya and Lyanna look alike, and Gendry and Robert look alike, and Lyanna didn’t choose Robert, so Arya won’t choose Gendry.” Right, because GRRM never likes to subvert tropes, or prophecies, or expectations, or anything like that. But then they took their already relatively baseless assumptions even further by randomly inserting a character they presumably like (for whatever reason) and giving him all kinds of traits that we have no reason to believe he has. Jaqen is an intellectual! Really? Says who? Not GRRM. He’s just like Rhaegar! Really, how so? Please in what ways does his character resemble Rhaegar?

Now let’s blow some holes in this with our CANON:

1. Gendry is very intelligent. I’ve said this before. He might not be formally educated in the same manner as nobility, obviously due to his upbringing and social class, but canonically Gendry is smart, quick thinking, and analytical.

Some examples of Gendry’s analysis and quick-thinking coming in handy:

“You know anything ‘bout boat-building, dyer’s boy?” Lommy looked blank.“A raft,” suggested Gendry. “Anyone can build a raft, and long poles for pushing.”Yoren looked thoughtful. “Lake’s too deep to pole across, but if we stayed to the shallows near shore … it’d mean leaving the wagons. Might be that’s best. I’ll sleep on it.”

-ACOK, Arya IV

It was Gendry who thought of the lord’s towerhouse and the three that Yoren had sent to hold it.

-ACOK, Arya V

Gendry,“ she called, her voice low and urgent. “They have a boat. We could sail the rest of the way up to Riverrun. It would be faster than riding, I think.”He looked dubious. “Did you ever sail a boat?”“Then there’s oars to row.”“Against the current?” Gendry frowned. “Wouldn’t that be slow? And what if the boat tips over and we fall into the water?

-ASOS, Arya II

And how about the time he covered Arya’s ass with that quick-thinking:

“Never mind about Ser Lyonel.” He drew her aside by the arm. “Last night Hot Pie asked me if I heard you yell Winterfell back at the holdfast, when we were all fighting on the wall.”“I never did!”“Yes you did. I heard you too.”“Everyone was yelling stuff,” Arya said defensively. “Hot Pie yelled hot pie. He must have yelled it a hundred times.”“It’s what you yelled that matters. I told Hot Pie he should clean the wax out of his ears, that all you yelled was Go to hell! If he asks you, you better say the same.”“I will,” she said, even though she thought go to hell was a stupid thing to yell.

-ACOK, Arya VIII

Just look at this boy banter with Arya never missing a beat:

Arya looked at Gendry. “If he falls off, who do you think will find him first, the wolves or the Mummers?”“The wolves,” said Gendry. “Better noses.”

-ASOS, Arya I

Just look at how in sync they are:

“NO!“ Arya and Gendry both said, at the exact same instant. Hot Pie quailed a little. Arya gave Gendry a sideways look. He said it with me, like Jon used to do, back in Winterfell.

-ASOS, Arya I

Gendry looked as uncertain as she felt.

-ASOS, Arya II

He’s even got problem-solving skills:

“You have a knife,” Gendry suggested. “If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head.”

-ASOS, Arya VIII

So yeah, we have way more canon evidence of Gendry’s intelligence than we do of Jaqen’s.

Though to be fair, it appears that Gendry has an ugly thinking face:

“Quiet, both of you, I need to think what to do.” He always looked pained when he tried to think, like it hurt him something fierce.

-ACOK, Arya V

(Which I can relate to myself, as whenever I am deep in thought I’m told I look like a murderous bitch)

Now, here is what we know about Jaqen H’ghar from the text:

He’s a Faceless Man.

That’s it. That’s literally it. How does being a faceless man equate to being an intellectual? It doesn’t. We have no reason to assume that about him. (Its possible he might not even be a “him” for all we know, the rules are unclear about whether the faceless men are capable of using a glamour to change gender). We can’t extrapolate any of his words or actions as indications of his nature, since anything and everything he says and does are part of the character he is playing at the time and would be completely different were he wearing a different face.

2. Canon evidence that Jaqen H’ghar is an “intellectual”:

NONE.

3. Canon evidence suggesting Arya has any romantic feelings toward Jaqen H’ghar:

NONE.

4. Canon evidence of Arya’s actual feelings regarding Jaqen H’ghar:

Jaqen made me brave again. He made me a ghost instead of a mouse.

-ACOK, Arya IX

It was Jaqen who had given her the iron coin. He hadn’t truly been her friend, the way that Syrio had, but what good had friends ever done her?

-AFFC, Arya I

Compare that to Gendry “the only true friend I have” Waters. Oh wait, there is no comparison.

Jaqen H’ghar has one function within Arya’s narrative. One. He is her introduction to the Faceless Men. He gives her three deaths, thus helping her and her friends escape Harrenhal, and he gives her the coin, and a glimpse of the true power that the faceless men possess:

Jaqen passed a hand down his face from forehead to chin, and where it went he changed. His cheeks grew fuller, his eyes closer; his nose hooked, a scar appeared on his right cheek where no scar had been before. And when he shook his head, his long straight hair, half red and half white, dissolved away to reveal a cap of tight black curls.Arya’s mouth hung open.

“Who are you?” she whispered, too astonished to be afraid. “How did you do that? Was it hard?”

-ACOK, Arya IX

Mission accomplished. Arya is intrigued. She is interested. She has a list of people she hates and damn it sure would be handy if she could learn that trick. Thanks for the mysterious coin and secret password, now move along. After this, Jaqen does not reappear in her arc. Let me say that again for the shownlies. Jaqen H’ghar does not interact with Arya at all after this. He is not the priest she meets at the house of Black and White. She has no further contact with him. In fact, to the best of our knowledge, the Faceless Man that was Jaqen is now in the Citadel (as Pate) for reasons we are all still theorizing about.

So, I believe what that anti meant to say is that they prefer Jaqen H’ghar for whatever reason - most likely because they have made several leaping assumptions about his character based on little to no textual evidence and/or they just like the guy from the show.

But you and I both know it will never happen in the books. Not even close. Not even in the realm of possibility. Sorry not sorry.

#GENDRYA #arya stark #gendry waters #arya x gendry #CANON #asoiaf #anon ask #i love you guys #also can we stop assuming that Rhaegar and Lyanna were MEANT TO BE because???#smh these antis

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cassandraclare · 7 years

Text

on the rights of women to own their own work. crummy crabapple speaks!

Yes, this stuff is still going on. I was hoping it would have ended after this, but it hasn’t, and being called a bitch whore murderer gets wearing fast when it’s based on nothing.

Look, frank talk about this stuff on Tumblr is often discouraged — when you have a small but pretty active group of “haters,” as happens nowadays to most successful creators, especially women, the general rule of thumb is not to talk to or about them. Blocking them on twitter excites them: it’s attention. Replying is pointless, explaining is deliberately misinterpreted, the truth is a lie, lies are truth, up is down, winning is losing. You can’t win in this situation, anyway: nobody can or does, everyone loses. The creators, the fandom, those caught in the middle (actors, etc.) Everyone.

This business about me killing Alec isn’t a rumor. It’s a lie. A purposeful lie told to make a point: that I am a bad person unworthy of my creations and that if I am a bad enough person, it’s okay to say they don’t belong to me, that I didn’t create them, that there is essentially no value in the act of creation, especially when it is done by a woman.

As we all know but mostly don’t talk about because If You Speak It They Will Come, there is a small group of anti-TMI-book fans who believe the books and the show are at war. (They are not the show’s fans. They are something else entirely. I talk to perfectly nice show fans all the time: these are less people who love Shadowhunters than people dedicated to the idea that if they scream about it long enough, the show will cease being based on this particular book series: an ultimately doomed goal that nevertheless leaves them plenty of opportunities to annoy the rest of us.) Instead of being able to accept that art is partly subjective, they are in a constant battle for an imaginary moral high ground in which they are the keepers of a version of the Mortal Instruments that has been objectively purified of all problematic elements.

The problem there being, of course, that there is no such thing as perfect, unproblematic media. Art comes from humans and humans are flawed. If you expect perfection you will be bitterly disappointed every single time: I’ve watched it happen over and over, as the this showrunner is a gift tag turns into the This showrunner is not a gift tag, and many of those who last year spoke glowingly of wrapping Ed Decter, their unproblematic hero (who once said to me in wonder, “You really worked a miracle with Malec, you know, people care about them as if they were a normal couple”), in cotton wool and fuzzy socks, now refer to Todd Slavkin as “Toad.”* Plenty of articles about the problematic elements of Shadowhunters have now been written and plenty of posts posted. (If Ed hadn’t been fired, he might have stuck around long enough to get called Ediot; these things are, after all, just a matter of time. (i get called “Casserole”, seriously, I am not kidding you, you cannot make this shit up.) )

To clarify: I am definitely NOT saying that a (potentially problematic) work should remain uncriticized to spare the feelings of the creators because they are flawed humans like everyone else. Criticism is valid; criticism is useful; criticism is important. What I am talking about in this post is not criticism. Telling a creator that her creations should be taken away from her because she “doesn’t deserve them”: not criticism. Making up funny names and mean hashtags for creators you don’t like: obviously hilarious for some, but definitely not criticism. And to some extent everyone knows this – so if it’s important to you that a creator be denied the right to claim ownership of, and pride in, her own work, it has to be because she is not just problematic but corrupt, evil, and cruel. She has to be morally bankrupt such that removing her from the narrative of her own creation is a moral good.

And so the lie that I’m planning to kill Alec (framed within the true narrative that killing off LGBT+ characters is a serious fucking problem in media) is a natural development: because wouldn’t that be awful and mean the books were morally very bad and wrong and shouldn’t creators who create bad wrong things have their creations taken away from them? Which would be just another Misogyny Tuesday on the internet except for the fact that it’s exploiting the fears of a vulnerable group of people (LGBT+ fans for whom Alec means a lot, in whatever format -- fans who have seen over and over LGBT characters die for nothing, for shitty reasons, for straight people, on TV and in movies and in comics and in books and are therefore in a place to be incredibly hurt by it happening again), to score a point in what is basically a ship war. And that is really shitty.

And yes, it’s a ship war.

There was really a “salty casserole” joke in there begging to be made. Missed opportunity!

So, why am I salty, you might ask? There is this belief that I must be Upset With The Show because people care about Malec on it more than Clace: my friends, the field where I grow my fucks is barren on this topic. I made up both couples. I don’t care which one you ship more, especially in a format where their story is not being told by me and for all I know, the showrunners don’t even want you shipping Clace at the moment. They seem into Climon and oh God, I have bored myself with this tangent.

I invented Clace and Malec. I’m writing a trilogy about Malec because I love Malec and have a story in my head about them, despite being offered three times the money to write one about Clace, as they’re “more marketable.” I do not have a favorite. Maybe writing works that way for some people but I doubt it. I’ve always said I don’t ship in my own books, and that is precisely what I meant.

Moving on: Are there things that have upset me about the show and the way it was developed? Yes — being told my mostly-female audience wasn’t a desirable one because they’re female; the fact that the female artist of color who created the runes has never been paid or credited for their use; being told Isabelle was “tits and ass”, being told Alec being gay was “a strike against his likeability”, contractual shit you will never know about because that stuff isn’t public — but for some reason I’m supposed to give a flying fuck about who ships what canon couple on the show? For viewers, as it should be, this is a TV show: for me this is part of my brand and has real-world consequences for my life. Unsurprisingly I care about those, not some imaginary ship war.

I was thrilled Shadowhunters won a GLAAD award for Magnus and Alec. (I was thrilled when the movie of Mortal Instruments got a GLAAD award nomination for Magnus and Alec though there was so little of them in the movie, it served to really underline the paucity of LGBT+ storylines in major film and tv.) I congratulated Matt and Harry on twitter; the comments below mine are something of a primer in why female creators are fleeing the internet in greater and greater numbers.

https://twitter.com/cassieclare/status/848497330999369729

The message is overwhelmingly: “Shut up, bitch, how dare you open your mouth and remind us that this show exists because your books do, even though you didn’t actually say that but you see, we like to pretend you’re dead and it’s inconvenient when you speak.” I’d imagine every one of those commenters would tell you they were a feminist, too. The idea that nothing is gained by shutting up women or denying that their intellectual property has worth or value is apparently one that seems good in the abstract, but falls at the first hurdle of but I don’t like her.

The abstract often does fail when it comes into conflict with the concrete. Being a feminist ally means being an ally even to women you don’t like, because being an ally only to people you like requires no effort and less thought. That doesn’t mean never criticizing women or their work. But it does require interrogating what’s going on in your own head. One of the most unpleasant haters I see on twitter, who viciously loathes me though we have never met, has read all my books; she has Malec in her username, and a quote from the books in her bio. She has Cassandra Jean’s art on her twitter page, and Valerie Freire’s rune designs in her text and background. That’s a lot of mental and artistic real estate devoted to the work of three women she refers to as  “garbage trash.” (Though I think Cassandra Jean and Val are mostly garbage trash because they associate with me and should instead have waited ten years for the TV show to come along so they could draw pictures of it or something. I don’t really understand it: the cognitive dissonance that allows to you dedicate your life to “Malec” while crapping on the person who created both characters and their relationship is so enormous that I can only follow it so far and no farther. I understand thinking that the show version is better, but not whatever warped fantasy tells you that if the books had never been written the show (now called “Evilchasers” perhaps) would have heroically found a way to invent the story of a gay demon-fighting warrior and his biracial warlock boyfriend anyway because that very specific story was floating around the ethereal planes waiting to be discovered by the psychic powers of Disney and it is only by great misfortune that I got to it first.) Point being: if your username is “Bubbles loves Malec” yet your twitter is dedicated to spewing venom at the person without whom the thing you love would not exist, it might be time to ask yourself some questions about cause and effect, and also, what that hate of yours is doing for you, psychologically speaking.

Look, I am going to get a lot of shit for this post, but whatever — the upside of being constantly screamed at for things you have not done (slut-shamed Isabelle, planned to murder Alec, thus contributing to the fucking awful homophobic trope of killing off gay characters, "stabbed the actors in the back”, promoted incest, poisoned the earth’s water supply) is that you no longer bother worrying about being screamed at for things you did do. I won’t do set visits or conventions since coming back from NY Comicon to stuff like this:

I’m not going to comment on the specifics, save to say they represent a massive and almost hilarious (though probably deliberate) misinterpretation of literally everything that happened on that panel. (If the network didn’t want book fans there, asking me questions, they wouldn’t have brought me there. I was there to do promotion for the show by talking about the show and the books — I am the author, and what the literal fuck else do you think they brought me there to talk about? The history of Belgian cabinet-making? They don’t think attention paid to the books takes away from the show: only a small group of asshats think that, and it’s weird that the OP never paused to think that if they didn’t want me there talking about the books, they could simply NOT HAVE INVITED ME. Also did it seriously never occur to them that panelists are asked to speak at certain junctures or in reference to certain questions, or gestured at to do so, we don’t just randomly interject? Lord.

I will admit it was extreme of Harry not to leave me lying there on the floor or maybe drop a chair on my head while no one was looking. He should reconsider his choices.)

But that’s the thing: posts like this one are the reason I haven’t gone back to set, or gone to another convention, or promoted the show. Would you go to a convention if you knew people like this were going to be feet away from you in the audience? I’m a grown-up, I can take being called Crummy Crabapple (did the whole kindergarten class vote on that one or was it a decision by fiat…?) but the sheer hate that underpins the silliness of the post makes the idea of being near people who think like that fairly shuddery.

I gathered a few such posts together to show to FF, and the network’s never blamed me for not wanting to go out and physically promote again. The sad part of all this is that mostly I pretend the show doesn’t exist because the downside of mentioning it is being screamed at for days by asshats (Let me be very specific what I mean by “asshats” = people who send threats, who use insulting gendered language, make anti-Semitic slurs, and repeatedly tell me I should not be allowed to own my own work — if this is not stuff you do, I’m not talking about you. Criticism of the books is fine and irrelevant.)

We all know these asshats exist — and we are all sad about it: me, the network, the actors, the showrunners, because the net result of them existing is that I don’t talk about or promote the show, and that’s a loss for a show that could really use that outreach. Losing me, my online audience, my worldwide publishers, as potential promotional partners is bad, not good, for a show that these people theoretically love. Losing the book fans the show depended on as viewers, but who can’t stand the toxic atmosphere, is bad, not good, for the actors and writers they claim to support. Screaming “INCEST FREAK!” at every twelve year old who comes online and timidly asks when they will see Chairman Meow is not going to raise the show’s ratings. If someone is more interested in driving away the show’s potential audience because they regard them as moral degenerates than they are in getting it renewed, that’s their bliss to follow, but the reason I’m mentioning these people at all is 1) I’m disturbed by the narrative women shouldn’t be allowed to own their own work and 2) many many posts have now been made about what an awful place the Shadowhunters/TMI fandom is, and that sucks for everyone. Sadly, it doesn’t take that many people to ruin an online space.

The idea that the books and the show are at war for kibbles is a fannish one (most people, including my publisher, regard TV shows based on books as advertising for those books because from a book perspective that’s what they are) seems to come out of the fact that fans argue about which they like better, something that has happened since the dawn of adaptations. I remember it from when I was in the Harry Potter fandom: Alan Rickman understood Snape better than JKR, the movies gave Draco more depth, etc and so on. Looking back now I can see the irony of people with usernames like Lupinfan talking about how Lupin was sidelined in the books but not the movies, but distance gives infinite perspective, I suppose. If you like Malec better on the show: awesome. They still exist on the show because they were invented in the books. That statement will be interpreted as the height of arrogance, but it’s just flat fact. They matter in both formats to a lot of people. There will never be a hand of God that reaches down from the sky and declares either one better. It will always be a matter of taste and opinion. The fact that art is subjective is something we all have to live with.

This is what I mean about the “killing Alec” lie: it has become part of the justification for my unworthiness to claim to have anything to do with my own characters. Killing Alec would be a bad thing to do to Alec (and Magnus); thus I would be terribly maltreating Alec (and Magnus); thus I don’t deserve to have anything to do with Alec (or Magnus). Thus it is okay to tell me to get the fuck out – how dare I even open my bitch mouth to congratulate the actors playing my characters if I would do something so terrible to them, after all? And who cares if it’s a lie and no one can source it? (Come on now, be real — no one tried.)

Whether I deserve Alec and Magnus is somewhat beside the point: I invented them regardless, and there was a large and profoundly intense Malec fandom before the show ever aired, whose existence is in fact directly responsible for the fact that Malec are a thing on the show at all. (Initially, neither of them appeared or were even referred to in the pilot.) Reality doesn’t really intrude into the fantasy that Magnus and Alec and Isabelle and Jace descended, pre-created, from a sky cloud, though: the fan/creator ownership dichotomy has existed since before Arthur Conan Doyle was bullied into bringing Sherlock back from the dead. Fans and creators don’t always agree and creators aren’t always right. What they are, however, always, is creators.

(In case I had forgotten that I am not, in fact, a hot dude actor. ASTONISHING INFORMATION.) It is mysterious to interpret congratulating actors as taking “credit for Matt and Harry’s hard work”; I neither need or want that anyway because I am not an actor; I am already credited on the show as the author of the source material, which is what I am. (I’ve won plenty of book awards but would be very puzzled to win, say, a Nobel prize for chemistry.) I congratulated the actors knowing I’d get a raft of shit for either doing so or not doing so: I chose to do so despite the inevitable annoyance factor because I like Matt and Harry; I wanted them hired; I like how much they love the characters, and I’ve always found them to be kind people who would loathe and despise the kind of tweets these folks are sending on their behalf.

Ironic, that.

But yeah, I also sent it because I’m proud of Malec. Deal with that. Women need to be allowed to be proud of their work sometimes without that being considered a deep evil. I don’t think the Magnus and Alec I created are perfect (by which I mean my writing of them, not their endearing flaws ;) but they represent years of work and love, and like any author would be, I’m thrilled to see the screen version of them acknowledged twice as something special. That’s very normal: for the GLAAD win, I got flowers from my publisher, congrats from the network and from my agents at CAA, because why wouldn’t you congratulate an author on something good happening to an adaptation of their books? The idea that when discussing an adaptation of their work, an author should reel back in terror screaming “I AM UNWORTHY TO BE MENTIONED IN THE SAME SENTENCES AS THE CHARACTERS I CREATED!” is so bizarre to most people that if you tried to explain to them that some women, not all women hahaha of course, but SOME WOMEN JUST DONT DESERVE TO BE ALLOWED TO TALK OR CLAIM THEY CAN “OWN” THINGS AMIRITE, they would back quietly away muttering that they had an important appointment to get their hedgehog dyed blue because they would literally think you were probably a serial killer.

This situation is not unique to these books, to me, or to this show: however, there is a special angle to this particular situation. Many commenters on all this have noted that the books are a female creation, the show a male one. Ed, Todd, Michael, Matt, McG, and Darren are all men, and in many ways, people find it much more comfortable, much easier, and much simpler to give uncritical admiration to men. They’re men, and therefore they have authority I don’t, and my continued existence as the author of the source material of Shadowhunters is seen as even more horrible because it makes it a girl thing, and “girl things” are less serious and less worthy. One of the things I often see the haters say is that the show is “older”; in fact the audience of the show is statistically younger than the book’s audience (I’ve seen the numbers) but I think it’s hard not to want to dismiss something so imbued with lady germs as being inherently inferior (and what’s more inferior than young women? It’s trendy to bash YA, which is seen as the province the young and the female – surely preferring men’s work makes you, you know, a more serious person? And surely if I had the sense God gave a weasel, I’d stop writing, give the book rights to some guy, and retire in shame? GO FORTH HARLOT AND WRITE YA NO MORE.)

Feminism does not mean you cannot criticize works by women. I’ve said that before, but I’m saying it again because it’s so easy to dismiss essays like this by saying “She’s hiding behind feminism and claiming we can’t criticize her because she’s a woman!” Nope. (Though it does mean you look for patterns. It’s kind of interesting there’s this small group of people who believe these characters/storylines really came alive when control of them was handed over to a series of ever-changing white middle-aged men. I mean, coincidence perhaps, but…?) I haven’t addressed criticism here really because it’s not the point: there is a huge gap between writing a bad review of a woman’s book and crusading for the idea that she shouldn’t be allowed to own her own intellectual property. Men taking away, literally taking away the money made from and authorship of women’s work is an ugly part of history (“Colette and [her husband] separated in 1906, although it was not until 1910 that the divorce became final. She had no access to the sizable earnings of the Claudine books [she had written]—the copyright belonged to him”) and it’s disturbing to see a group of primarily women argue that it should be repeated.

If the idea that a woman created Magnus and Alec, or any characters or world, is so horribly, terribly bothersome that you have to make up lies that, in your mind, render her unworthy of her own creation so that it’s all right to “take it from her” by discounting her role as a writer, her ownership of her own intellectual property, her right to exist as a person and to stand on the same stage at a convention as the “gem-like saint” male actors playing her characters — maybe think about why?* What does screaming that I’d better not think Alec and Magnus have anything to do with me get you, really? Except the knowledge that if, one day, you write or create or draw something people love, you’ve helped create an environment in which it’s a veritable certainty you’ll get treated like you’re a piece of shit for doing it?

*And “bitch” is “bitch”, friends. It doesn’t matter what letters you take out, it’s still misogynist and still shitty. You know what you’re saying, and so does everyone else. Try asshat, really. I recommend it.

#shadowhunters #malec #cassandra clare #feminism

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omfgtrump · 5 years

Text

The God of Very, Very, Very Petty Things

“I alone can fix it,” The Don proclaimed during his campaign.

Follow me and I’ll set you free. (And if you don’t, I will smite you and bring a tweet upon you the world has never seen!)

The Don has heard the word. God has whispered in his ear and told him: “You are just only beginning to realize your greatness. Never forget what I told you at the burning bush: God is not about love, but about hate. Be petty and small-minded; shun generosity. Live by this credo and the world will bow to you.”

“And remember: Your hands may be small and your thoughts petty, but you have been touched by the hand of God.”

Rumor has it that The Don said: “Someone told me it’s like when ET heals the boy’s wound by touching it with his finger- that I have magical powers.”

Another someone told The Don that Michelangelo’s famous image on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, where God is reaching out to create Adam is really about him.

“The Chinese know this about me, and that’s why they are so afraid of me. “I am the chosen one” when it comes to bringing those rice eaters down. “Why does everything have to be eaten with rice? Rice, rice, rice.”

As far as stealing our intellectual property (which is a genuine concern), The Don, being the penultimate narcissist, was rumored to say: “They can’t really be stealing intellectual property because I have the greatest brain ever and my brain is still amazing, doing great things, so if they ever tried to steal it, I would know. Let me tell you, no one steals the intellect of the greatest brain in the world. It’s too smart to be stolen.”

The Chinese do not want to mess with The Don as he can totally outsmart them. He will show them. In a fit of rage, The Don responded to the Chinese increasing tariffs on American goods by proclaiming: “Our great American companies are hereby ordered to immediately start looking for an alternative to China.”

The Don’s great intellect imagines this act like one of his divorces. His great intellect doesn’t comprehend how impossible that would be given the inter-relatedness of the global economy. Can you imagine the chaos to follow if all American companies stopped doing business in China? How a bout a worldwide depression?

“But some Chinese love me! Just look at those people from Egg Foo Young (actually it is Falun Gong), you know those people love me and know I am their savior. I hear they carry pictures of me in their phones and like crazy Muslims will pray to me five times a day. It’s a beautiful thing, the praying and all that, as they appreciate me, and my ‘annointedness’, but the Muslims, who the hell are the praying to? What a waste of time.”

The Don has a point there as former practitioners of Falun Gong, a radical religious anti-communism group in China, have revealed that believers think the world is headed toward a judgment day, where those labeled “communists” will be sent to a kind of hell, and those sympathetic to the spiritual community will be spared. Trump is viewed as a key ally in the anti-communist fight.

And then there are the evangelicals.

“The evangelicals know who I really am. The evangelicals and I are the true believers and defenders of Israel.”

“I think any Jewish people that vote for a Democrat, I think it shows either a total lack of knowledge or great disloyalty.”

Yes, and as our chosen one, with the greatest intellect, your knowledge should be our guide. How dumb can those Jews get? After all, 80% of Jewish voters vote Democrat. What I want to know is how any Jew can vote for someone who thinks it ok to lock people up in cages or as some have said “concentration camps!” Or for that matter (as a Jew myself), how does any Jew think it is ok to create an Apartheid state for the Palestinian people.

But let’s get back to The Don as the savior of the evangelicals. When you understand the vision of their destiny, you can make sense of their hypocrisy. You can make sense of these immoral moralists. You can make sense of how they support a man who lives his life so far from Christian values, that some with more sense, would refer to him as a heathen. Maybe even as Beelzebub.

You see, it is all about the after-life. It doesn’t matter that babies are separated from their parents, or that the environment is being destroyed, or that The Don has been accused of rape and sexual assault-even admitted to it in the Access Hollywood video, or that he is a racist.

It doesn’t matter that his policies hurt the poor, that he is trying to take healthcare away from some of these very same people who believe in him and that he is a low life criminal who committed insurance and tax fraud and has already been indicted as a co-conspirator with Michael Cohen in breaking campaign finance laws. None of it matters because it is about the after-life; it’s about the rapture, silly! It’s about the ascension of all righteous believers to heaven. But, there’s a catch.

When the Rapture comes, the holy alliance between Christians and Jews will suddenly become unholy. Christians will rise and Jews will be left behind to deal with the Antichrist, plagues, sores, boils, frogs and locusts from the ”bottomless pit,” each with a human face, horse’s body, scorpion’s tail and a sting that torments for five months.

‘See you suckers!’ they will yell as they float up in to the kingdom of the Lord. In other words, the only reason the evangelicals are such supporters of Israel and the Jews is because ,according to their beliefs, the evangelicals will not be able to take the stairway to heaven without the annihilation of the Jews first. Pretty twisted loyalty, you think?

According to Leon Wieseltier, the Jewish scholar and literary editor of The New Republic, ”the evangelical Christians condescend to the Jews by offering their support before they convert or kill them.”

And what does evangelical Mike Pompeo, our beloved Secretary of State, think about The Don being touched by God?

In an interview in Jerusalem, the Christian Broadcast Network’s Chris Mitchell asked Pompeo, “could it be that President Trump right now has been sort of raised for such a time as this, just like Queen Esther, to help save the Jewish people from the Iranian menace?”

“As a Christian, I certainly believe that’s possible,” Pompeo said.

Pompeo added that he is “confident that the Lord is at work here” when he sees the “remarkable history of the faith in this place and the work that our administration’s done to make sure that this democracy in the Middle East, that this Jewish state, remains.”

Pompeo continues: “He (The Don) is a miracle sent straight from heaven to bring the nation back to the Lord. I have also learned that resistance to Mr. Trump is tantamount to resistance to God.”

Let’s repeat. The man who represents the U.S. in all matters of international diplomacy said: “resistance to Mr. Trump is tantamount to resistance to God?’

Heaven help us all!

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ruffoverthinksthings · 7 years

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How about the Aks fighting styles? You know, if they are able to?

Theycan fight, but not nearly as well as the VK’s can. In a clash inAuradon, the combatants respect things like fair fighting, don’tintend to seriously injure their opponents if possible, and don’tkick them while they’re down.

Meanwhile, the VK’s will take advantage of everything they canand then some. It’s a huge part of why my OC Dog in “Reunions”utterly decimates most everyone he fights with; his incredible speedand strength, quick thinking, and instinctive understanding ofweaknesses and vulnerabilities in his enemies’ defenses aside, he’sunrepentant in using every single advantage and opportunity as theypresent themselves.

Well, that, and both your average Islander Henchman and AuradonRoyal Guard is not a very good fighter to begin with...

Anyway:

Ben

Closest Fighting Style: Every Medieval Western European Combat Style With Every Weapon You Can Imagine, plus Wrestling (Not professional)

Weapon/s of Choice: Every Medieval Western European Weapon You Can Imagine, Himself

Being the most powerful monarch in the land, and at real risk ofbeing targeted or even killed by both escaped Villains and Goodpeople falling into temptation, Ben has been schooled in severaldifferent types of combat, mixing up the usual sport fencing withactual, brutal swordplay, horse riding with jousting and archery, wrestling with the intent to kill or render your opponentunconscious, well past the point when they cry “Uncle!” and many, many, many other combat styles that are all united in the fact that their

Unlike Chad, he’s not the most popular participant when it comesto duels or tournaments because he lacks the flair, the showmanship,and the willingness to show off, but in an actual fight, Ben will winout, as he’s one of the most aggressive, relentless, anddangerously cunning opponents you will ever meet.

Thanks to a mixture of influences, training, and genetics fromBeast (strength and determination), Belle (intelligence, patience,and cleverness), and Lumiere (lessons in actual “fight for yourlife” combat and how to make the best of a terrible situation,thanks to his checkered, adventurous, and not entirely legalyouth), he is one of the most dangerous AK’s alongside Lonnie.

Be very thankful he only uses violence as an absolute lastresort.

Lonnie

Closest Fighting Style: VariousEastern Martial Arts, Armed and Unarmed

Weapon/s of Choice: Swords, Staves, Bows and Arrows,Explosives, and Herself

Being the daughter of China’s greatest War Hero and an armycaptain infamous for being able to whip up even the most incompetentand hopeless recruits into a crack-fighting force, it was all butinevitable that Lonnie would end up being one hell of a fighter,combining both her own athletic skill and her mother’s penchant forclever solutions to seemingly impossible problems.

She didn’t go through the same hellish training sequence asShang’s famous company did, seeing as she was both a kid, and theHuns were all on the Isle or living in Faraway or the Borderlands,but these days she can run through the whole course without aproblem, though it is helped by the fact that she has modernequipment, YouTube videos, and much better nutrition and trainingadvice than any of them ever had.

She rarely uses her martial prowess to fight—in fact, she tendsto just use it as a form of exercise or combine it with her hip hopdancing—but if ever there is someone (Evil!) that needs to bekilled with a sword, bow and arrow, or a staff; beaten to a pulp withher bare hands; or blown up with fireworks or actual artillery,she’ll happily step up and do wonderfully at it.

On a side note, she’s also great with clever, creative,unexpected infiltration into places that need breaking into.

Doug

Closest Fighting Style: Judo

Weapon/s of Choice: Himself

The Dwarven fighting style is very simple: use theirincredible strength/size ratio to subdue their off-guard opponentsbefore they realize they are a threat, smash their heads and bodiesin with their mining tools, or use their instinctive knowledge ofleverage, pressure points, and proper application of force to crackbones instead of ore veins.

Being that Doug himself is an outlier among dwarves, anintellectual who I assume only ever having held a pickaxe for photosand a brief stint attempting mining, does not follow this rule.

Instead, he subscribes to Judo, because it’s primarily forself-defense; it’s a matter of balance, physics, and using youropponent’s size and streng against them; and I t synergizes verywell with his Dwarven constitution of “much in little,” and he isparticularly well-suited for throwing people and knocking themoff-balance as he’s quite stable and difficult to tip over

He’s not the BEST at it as a full-on fight requires both thewill to fight, and a street brawl is a lot more uncontrolledand wild than a sparring match, but he’s not entirelydefenseless.

Ally

Closest Fighting Style: Various, primarily Swordplay

Weapon/s of Choice: Swords, though croquet mallets andother mundane objects work just fine

I would assume that Ally has trained extensively with all the cardsoldiers in the art of swordplay, though this being Wonderland, it’sPLENTY different from anything you might imagine from Auradon, and itshows if she actually has to fight.

Like CJ, she’s dangerous mainly because of her unpredictabilityand acrobatics, plus her use of her environment (hot tea to the faceis a great opener) with unusual tactics (if you could call itthat) to throw her opponents off-guard.

It’s REALLY hard to counter a strategy when there isn’t one inthe first place, or they’re just making it up entirely as they goalong.

Even if she doesn’t have a sword or any traditional weapons,she’s still capable of defending herself as Wonderland is a weird,wonderful, and wild place where you never know what toexpect, so you better be able to know many, many, manydifferent ways to defend yourself.

Jordan

Closest Fighting Style: Capoeira

Weapon/s of Choice: Herself

Jordan is no stranger to martial arts and unarmed self-defenseseeing as Eden and Genie had put it on their “Freedom List,” andold Agrabah was rife with dangers and perils that made knowing how toprotect yourself with no weapons on-hand was a very helpful skillindeed.

Seeing as she’s immortal and it’s hard to actually seriouslyinjure her, she just picked whatever martial art appealed to her themost, and I’d imagine Capoeira would be it, because of its focus onrhythmic movements, playfulness and style, and deception and catchingyour opponent off-guard appeals to her greatly.

Her fighting was often been compared to dancing or toying with heropponents, and she is doing just that; she needn’t worry aboutanything more serious than ruining her clothes, as her physical formcan be easily regenerated or changed, and cosmetic damage magickedaway.

The only real threat to her would be anti-Fae/magic weapons andtactics, but those are a different story altogether.

Chad

Closest Fighting Style: Fencing, Archery, Jousting

Weapon/s of Choice: Swords, Bows and Arrows, Lances

As a Charming and a Prince, Chad has been trained in all the usualschools of swordplay, horseback riding, jousting, fencing, archery,and all the things young royals are trained in to prepare them foreventually going to war with enemies and neighbouring countries, orimpressing their potential future wives at all the annualtournaments.

Sad to say, Chad is really more flair than substance, knowingflashy moves and tactics that certainly get applause from the crowdbut open you up so much that someone who DOES intend to hurt you canand will with ease. His trainers have continually been trying todrill it out of him, but unfortunately, Chad believes more in theadoration of a swooning crowd than the admonitions of people thatactually know how to survive a real fight, than a duelwith rules and referees.

When push comes to shove, I’d assume that Chad initiallyfalters, fails every fight he gets into, and nearly gets himselfkilled if the others aren’t around. He would wisen up quickly afterthat (assuming he survives and doesn’t suffer grievous injurythat’d prevent him from ever fighting again), and would become adecent enough combatant, if not nearly as competent as either Lonnieor Ben.

Decades of showing off is hard to unlearn, especially when thereare no rules to engagement and referees.

Jane

Closest Fighting Style: Various, primarily Judo and KravMaga

Weapon/s of Choice: Whatever is at hand

Because Jane is incapable of forgetting, will live forever, is amagical creature for whom her humanoid form is a conscious choice,and doesn’t have the opportunity to Bibbidy-Bobbidi-Boo heraggressors into the hospital, Fairy Godmother has enrolled her or shehas trained herself in pretty much EVERY martial arts and combatschool under the sun.

She hasn’t gotten very far with any of them for a variety ofreasons, but Krav Maga and Judo have stuck, the former for itsemphasis on “spotting trouble before it happens, and getting outfast when it does,” and the latter because a tiny girl like herbodily throwing someone several times her size into the cold, hardpavement is a fantastic distraction.

She’s the last to jump to action, and certainly not the bestally in an all-out-brawl, but she is the best canary in the coal mineas she is hyperaware of potential danger, and always has all mannerof contingency plans and escape routes already thought up in herhead.

Audrey

Closest Fighting Style: None

Weapon/s of Choice: Knives and small, sharp objects

Like Evie, Audrey primarily uses bladed weapons as a deterrent ora last resort weapon for distracting or injuring an opponent enoughto dissuade them from attacking. Like Mal, she has no qualms aboutgoing for the most vulnerable parts of the body, as if you make itthrough her guards or make it so that you ambush her when she’sthis vulnerable, she assumes you likely wouldn’t have much qualmsabout doing way worse things to her.

Unlike the both of them, however, she’s terrible at itfrom a lack of practice, having been defended by so many swooping into rescue her at the right moments, and just her general anxiety andpanic in the face of danger, or things just not going her way.

She knows the technique, she has been schooled, it’s just thatactually being in the thick of danger is SO much more different thanhaving an instructor that politely warns you about what exactlythey’re going to do.

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dudewheresmycock · 8 years

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I’m gonna rant here cause no one actually follows my post so I’m basically anonymous

I’m so fucking fed up with Tumblr; I just wanna look at funny pictures and cute animals but nooooo. You guys keep shoving your political opinions down everyone’s throats, I can’t go a single day without seeing a “Trump is going to murder us all” or “If you don’t agree with me, go die in a ditch” post on my dash. You guys treat your political opinions like the CORRECT opinions and then have the balls to call someone a fascist? Do you even know what that word means? For those of you who have the brains of ants, fascism is a political system in which only one opinion is allowed and all others are punishable with violence and/or other forms of assault. Sound familiar? Let me refresh your memory. Now, I had no idea who Richard Spencer was before “the incident”, but as far as I know, he’s never raised a hand to the people he’s spoken out against. He could fucking say “Death to all black people, gays will burn in hell” and you guys would still be wrong for raising the first hand. Obviously, this way of thinking is absolutely terrible, and I’m sure a very small percentage of Americans actually think this way. But if someone was saying these things, your best option to try and convince them your way is the right way is by debate. Present your ideas, come up with alternative solutions and support your arguments with facts. Do you know why you should do this? Because you’ll remain the intellectual one. By going around punching people you’ve deemed “Nazis”, you’re unintentionally saying, “Well, I’m not smart enough to use words to shut this person up, so I’d rather just punch his stupid face.” If you guys really want to seem like the “good guys” here (I’ll touch on this a bit later), then put down your fists and use your heads for once in your god damn life.

I know Tumblr pretty well; I’ve been on this site for about 3 years now (which isn’t a lot to some but I think it’s enough to know what’s up) and I know who most of you are. The majority of you are extremely liberal and what some people would call “SJWs”. You’re probably thinking, “Oh this is obviously some cishet male who doesn’t know a thing about oppression. This guy doesn’t realize that not only do words hurt, they are a form of violence!”. To get you guys on my side, I’m gonna use 2 words to describe myself that you all love: female and LGBTQ+. That’s right guys, does my opinion matter now? Or does it hurt your pretty little brains to think that someone “not oppressed” can be anti-SJW? And you know what’s the really kicker? I’ve been these 2 things my entire life and I’ve never faced any oppression. Shocking, I know. I’ve never been denied opportunities, or talked about in a sexually explicit way (in a serious way of course), or even gotten weird looks walking down the street. You guys think that being in the minority (which women aren’t by the way, we make up about 51% of the population) means that you’re a rebel group fighting for equal rights in a world that only cares about people who look and act exactly like them. But it’s not as black and white as that. There are no good guys and there are no bad guys. This isn’t a movie or a video game, this is real life; and no matter how much you guys try to ignore that fact, it’s true. People are people and no matter how much you disagree with someone, they’re still a person. If you’re going to argue that this could sound like I’m defending Hitler or Hitler-esk figures, I firmly believe that as soon as a person takes another persons life, they are stripped of their own humanity, so don’t come at me with that shit. And if someone causes physical harm to an innocent being, I will have no respect for that person no matter what they do. But you guys are so quick to point the finger at anyone you disagree with that it’s easy to forget the fact this stuff.

This will probably drown under the shit storm that is Tumblr, but if anyone ever sees this, feel free to have a nice, respectful discussion with me. I respect your opinion whether you agree with me or not, and if you disagree, then by having a dialog maybe we can understand where the both of us are coming from.

#rant #personal #anti sjw

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robgrayofficial · 6 years

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GOOD AFTERNOON DEPLORABLES!!!!WELCOME TO YOUR WEEKLY RECAP! This is /u/Ivaginaryfriend here to spend another beautiful Saturday with you Patriots! I hope everyone has had a GLORIOUS start to this Memorial Day weekend!Before we officially get this recap started, if you happened to miss any past recaps you can catch them here!Sunday, May 20th:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Things are really getting ridiculous. The Failing and Crooked (but not as Crooked as Hillary Clinton) @nytimes has done a long & boring story indicating that the World’s most expensive Witch Hunt has found nothing on Russia & me so now they are looking at the rest of the World! ... .At what point does this soon to be $20,000,000 Witch Hunt, composed of 13 Angry and Heavily Conflicted Democrats and two people who have worked for Obama for 8 years, STOP! They have found no Collussion with Russia, No Obstruction, but they aren’t looking at the corruption ... in the Hillary Clinton Campaign where she deleted 33,000 Emails, got $145,000,000 while Secretary of State, paid McCabes wife $700,000 (and got off the FBI hook along with Terry M) and so much more. Republicans and real Americans should start getting tough on this Scam.Now that the Witch Hunt has given up on Russia and is looking at the rest of the World, they should easily be able to take it into the Mid-Term Elections where they can put some hurt on the Republican Party. Don’t worry about Dems FISA Abuse, missing Emails or Fraudulent Dossier!What ever happened to the Server, at the center of so much Corruption, that the Democratic National Committee REFUSED to hand over to the hard charging (except in the case of Democrats) FBI? They broke into homes & offices early in the morning, but were afraid to take the Server? ... and why hasn’t the Podesta brother been charged and arrested, like others, after being forced to close down his very large and successful firm? Is it because he is a VERY well connected Democrat working in the Swamp of Washington, D.C.?The Witch Hunt finds no Collusion with Russia - so now they’re looking at the rest of the World. Oh’ great!(Retweeting Eric Trump) It is emotional day being back at @StJude in celebration of our dear friend Colin! He was a beautiful child who we will all remember forever. We will win the fight against pediatric cancer.I hereby demand, and will do so officially tomorrow, that the Department of Justice look into whether or not the FBI/DOJ infiltrated or surveilled the Trump Campaign for Political Purposes - and if any such demands or requests were made by people within the Obama Administration!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:'FBI plant' in Trump campaign was US-born Cambridge professor, reports sayObama pleads with Jay Z to discourage Hip Hop artists from meeting with Trump.Sing Mockingbirds Sing!🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:CALM DOWN LIBTARDS, I'm only investigating Obama to protect him.Literally just a picture of Trump“We didn’t spy on Trump, we slipped and fell into a wiretap”FBI Releases Statement Regarding Trump Campaign MoleMonday, May 21st:TODAY'S ACTION:Sam Abed - Mayor of Escondido, CAChris Santos - Guest Chef at the White HouseThe Vice President Celebrates Armed Forces DayPresident Trump Participates in the Swearing-In Ceremony of the Director of the CIAPresident Trump Hosts the NASCAR Cup Series Champion Martin Truex Jr. and TeamPresident Trump Welcomes the NASCAR Cup Series Champion Martin Truex Jr. and Team to the White HouseExecutive Order Prohibiting Certain Additional Transactions with Respect to VenezuelaPresident Donald J. Trump Proclaims May 22, 2018, as National Maritime DayFour Nominations Sent to the Senate Today🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:I ask Senator Chuck Schumer, why didn’t President Obama & the Democrats do something about Trade with China, including Theft of Intellectual Property etc.? They did NOTHING! With that being said, Chuck & I have long agreed on this issue! Fair Trade, plus, with China will happen!China has agreed to buy massive amounts of ADDITIONAL Farm/Agricultural Products - would be one of the best things to happen to our farmers in many years!On China, Barriers and Tariffs to come down for first time.China must continue to be strong & tight on the Border of North Korea until a deal is made. The word is that recently the Border has become much more porous and more has been filtering in. I want this to happen, and North Korea to be VERY successful, but only after signing!“John Brennan is panicking. He has disgraced himself, he has disgraced the Country, he has disgraced the entire Intelligence Community. He is the one man who is largely responsible for the destruction of American’s faith in the Intelligence Community and in some people at the ... top of the FBI. Brennan started this entire debacle about President Trump. We now know that Brennan had detailed knowledge of the (phony) Dossier...he knows about the Dossier, he denies knowledge of the Dossier, he briefs the Gang of 8 on the Hill about the Dossier, which ... they then used to start an investigation about Trump. It is that simple. This guy is the genesis of this whole Debacle. This was a Political hit job, this was not an Intelligence Investigation. Brennan has disgraced himself, he’s worried about staying out of Jail.” Dan BonginoThe Wall Street Journal asks, “WHERE IN THE WORLD WAS BARACK OBAMA?” A very good question!Under our potential deal with China, they will purchase from our Great American Farmers practically as much as our Farmers can produce..@AsaHutchinson, the great Governor of Arkansas, is in a primary tomorrow. He has done an incredible job with a focus on lower taxes, border security, and crime prevention. Asa loves our military and our veterans. I fully endorse Asa for Governor!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:BREAKING: US House To Vote Tomorrow on Bill Allowing Terminally Ill Patients to Access Experimental DrugsNothing To See Here: Obama DoD Paid 'FBI Informant' (SPY) Stefan Halper Over $250,000 Right Before 2016 Election ...White House: What You Need To Know About The Violent Animals Of MS-13TRUMP RALLY IN NASHVILLE TENNESSEE MAY 29TH! PREPARE YOUR ANUS BECAUSE POTUS IS ABOUT TO DROP IT LIKE ITS HOT.Nunes Says He Won't Meet With DOJ Officials Until Docs Handed Over🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:It’s Monday Pedes!!Donald Trump Pan Flute - Version 2.0! You Asked, We Delivered!!Billboard on I-40 just outside of Little Rock. Based Arkansas!Junior w/the Kill Shot!The Storm Has ArrivedTuesday, May 22nd:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump has Dinner with Governors on Border Security and Safe CommunitiesPresident Trump Welcomes President Moon Jae-in of the Republic of Korea to the White HousePresident Trump Meets with the President of the RepublicPresident Trump Delivers Remarks at the Susan B. Anthony List 11th Annual Campaign for Life Gala🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Today, it was my great honor to welcome President Moon Jae-in of the Republic of Korea to the @WhiteHouse!🇺🇸🇰🇷It was my honor to welcome @NASCAR Cup Series Champion @MartinTruex_Jr and his team to the @WhiteHouse yesterday!For the first time since Roe v. Wade, America has a Pro-Life President, a Pro-Life Vice President, a Pro-Life House of Representatives and 25 Pro-Life Republican State Capitals!If the person placed very early into my campaign wasn’t a SPY put there by the previous Administration for political purposes, how come such a seemingly massive amount of money was paid for services rendered - many times higher than normal ... Follow the money! The spy was there early in the campaign and yet never reported Collusion with Russia, because there was no Collusion. He was only there to spy for political reasons and to help Crooked Hillary win - just like they did to Bernie Sanders, who got duped!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:“I got you good, you fucker.”When you're so woke, you bring back segregation.New Poll Shows GOP Now Leads In 2018 Generic BallotHuma email horror returns to haunt FBI brass, in IG report on Clinton caseSecond Spy Tried To Infiltrate Trump Campaign Says Former Adviser: "This Is Just The Beginning"PRESS BRIEFINGS, INTERVIEWS, RALLIES:Press Beating🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Based Kyle to get TWO SLICES of cake!!!Head Of ICE Scolds House Dem at 4:25: Don’t Call Us Anti-Immigrant For Enforcing Laws Passed By CongressReminder to all nations suffering through ramadan bombathon. (And if you didn't know before... you know now. No more excuses.)What do you hear, "Obama" or "Hillary"?Someone put extra spice in Scott Adams Covfefe this morning 🔥🔥🔥Wednesday, May 23rd:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Delivers Remarks at the Susan B. Anthony List 11th Annual Campaign for Life GalaPresident Trump Makes a Statement Upon DeparturePresident Trump Participates in a Roundtable on ImmigrationOne Nomination and One Withdrawal Sent to the Senate🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Look how things have turned around on the Criminal Deep State. They go after Phony Collusion with Russia, a made up Scam, and end up getting caught in a major SPY scandal the likes of which this country may never have seen before! What goes around, comes around!“It’s clear that they had eyes and ears all over the Trump Campaign” Judge Andrew NapolitanoSPYGATE could be one of the biggest political scandals in history!Everybody is with Tomi Lahren, a truly outstanding and respected young woman! @foxandfriends“Trump should be happy that the FBI was SPYING on his campaign” No, James Clapper, I am not happy. Spying on a campaign would be illegal, and a scandal to boot!Our Trade Deal with China is moving along nicely, but in the end we will probably have to use a different structure in that this will be too hard to get done and to verify results after completion.Big legislation will be signed by me shortly. After many years, RIGHT TO TRY and big changes to DODD FRANK.There will be big news coming soon for our great American Autoworkers. After many decades of losing your jobs to other countries, you have waited long enough!WITCH HUNT!Thank you @SBAList! #SBAGalaToday on Long Island, we were all moved to be joined by families who have suffered unthinkable heartbreak at the hands of MS-13. I was truly honored to be joined again by the courageous families who were my guests at the State of the UnionCrippling loopholes in our laws have enabled MS-13 gang members and other criminals to infiltrate our communities - and Democrats in Congress REFUSE to close these loopholes, including the disgraceful practice known as Catch-and-Release. Democrats must abandon their resistance...Thank you to all of the incredible law enforcement officers and firefighters in Bethpage, New York. Keep up the great work!Great to be in New York for the day. Heading back to the @WhiteHouse now, lots of work to be done!Will be interviewed on @foxandfriends tomorrow morning at 6:00 A.M. Enjoy!SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:HAPPENING STATUS: "IT'S" ---> Republicans Announce They're Going After Hillary, Comey, Lynch, And Others in DOJ and FBI For CrimesRank And File FBI Agents "Sickened" By Comey And McCabe Want To "Come Forward And Testify"Trump warns Comey over looming IG report on Clinton case: 'A lot of problems'8 ways even normies can tell O spied and lied🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:This man absolutely adores people. This is what the swamp and the media can't cope with. He's a god send. Hat tip to you President Trump.ＳＰＹＧＡＴＥI'd like to solve the puzzle Pat.It's a mystery...My Life LatelyThursday, May 24th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Holds a Roundtable Discussion about the MS-13 AnimalsPresident Trump Participates in the Signing Ceremony for S. 2155President Trump Presents the Medal of HonorSeven Nominations and One Withdrawal Sent to the Senate TodaySpace Policy Directive-2, Streamlining Regulations on Commercial Use of Space🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Clapper has now admitted that there was Spying in my campaign. Large dollars were paid to the Spy, far beyond normal. Starting to look like one of the biggest political scandals in U.S. history. SPYGATE - a terrible thing!Not surprisingly, the GREAT Men & Women of the FBI are starting to speak out against Comey, McCabe and all of the political corruption and poor leadership found within the top ranks of the FBI. Comey was a terrible and corrupt leader who inflicted great pain on the FBI! #SPYGATESadly, I was forced to cancel the Summit Meeting in Singapore with Kim Jong Un.It was my great honor to host a roundtable re: MS-13 yesterday in Bethpage, New York. Democrats must abandon their resistance to border security so that we can SUPPORT law enforcement and SAVE innocent lives!I have decided to terminate the planned Summit in Singapore on June 12th. While many things can happen and a great opportunity lies ahead potentially, I believe that this is a tremendous setback for North Korea and indeed a setback for the world...Today, it was my honor to sign #S2155, the "Economic Growth, Regulatory Relief, and Consumer Protection Act.” Read more: http://bit.ly/2GSVNaX, it was my great honor to present the #MedalOfHonor to @USNavy (SEAL) Master Chief Special Warfare Operator Britt Slabinski in the East Room of the @WhiteHouse. Full ceremony: http://bit.ly/2IMCLsn Dan Scavino Jr.) Today, @POTUS @realDonaldTrump welcomed 106-year-old Pearl Harbor veteran Ray Chavez of Poway, California to the @WhiteHouse. Chavez is the oldest living Pearl Harbor veteran. http://bit.ly/2GRHC5G Dan Scavino Jr.) cc: @POTUS @realDonaldTrump(Retweeting Dan Scavino Jr.) Today, President Trump issued an Executive Grant of Clemency (Full Pardon) posthumously to John Arthur “Jack” Johnson, the first African American Heavyweight Champion of the World, for a Mann Act conviction that occurred...(Retweeting Dan Scavino Jr.) Last week after visiting FLOTUS Melania, POTUS Trump went to visit wounded HEROES at Walter Reed Medical Center. He told them that when they got out, to come visit him at the @WhiteHouse anytime. Yesterday, prior to departing for NY, he welcomed and met with them in the Oval...SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:TRUMP pulling out, statement to Lil Rocket Man. DO NOT INSULT OUR VP!ART OF THE DEAL: North Korea: We are still willing to resolve issues with the USCNN hates Elon now.Morgan Freeman blamed Trump for the Florida School shooting, today 8 women accuse Freeman of sexual harassment. The Trump curse strikes again.Oregon student suspended for wearing Trump shirt sues school🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:Two rapists walk into a bar....If Hillary were elected, we’d never know, and they were banking on it...IronicSeth Rich was alive and talking for 90 minutes after the police arrived. Three officers wore body cams but DC police refuse to release video. What are they hiding?I live in NYC and I work near Trump Tower. I often find myself in the middle of protests. I always ask for extra stickers/flyers “to hand out”Friday, May 25th:TODAY'S ACTION:President Trump Delivers a Statement Upon DepartureVice President Mike Pence Delivers the 2018 Commencement Address at the U.S Coast Guard AcademyPresident Trump Participates in the United States Naval Academy Graduation CeremonyPresident Donald J. Trump Announces Intent to Nominate Personnel to Key Administration PostsPresident Donald J. Trump Proclaims Memorial Day, May 28, 2018, as a Day of Prayer for Permanent Peace🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:The Democrats are now alluding to the the concept that having an Informant placed in an opposing party’s campaign is different than having a Spy, as illegal as that may be. But what about an “Informant” who is paid a fortune and who “sets up” way earlier than the Russian Hoax?Can anyone even imagine having Spies placed in a competing campaign, by the people and party in absolute power, for the sole purpose of political advantage and gain? And to think that the party in question, even with the expenditure of far more money, LOST!“Everyone knows there was a Spy, and in fact the people who were involved in the Spying are admitting that there was a Spy...Widespread Spying involving multiple people.” Mollie Hemingway, The Federalist Senior Editor But the corrupt Mainstream Media hates this monster story!Democrats are so obviously rooting against us in our negotiations with North Korea. Just like they are coming to the defense of MS 13 thugs, saying that they are individuals & must be nurtured, or asking to end your big Tax Cuts & raise your taxes instead. Dems have lost touch!Very good news to receive the warm and productive statement from North Korea. We will soon see where it will lead, hopefully to long and enduring prosperity and peace. Only time (and talent) will tell!Today, it was my great honor to deliver the 2018 Commencement Address at the United States @NavalAcademy in Annapolis, Maryland. Congratulations! Good luck. Godspeed. And ANCHORS AWEIGH!On behalf of the American People, CONGRATULATIONS! We love you!To the @NavalAcademy Class of 2018, I say: We know you are up to the task. We know you will make us proud. We know that glory will be yours. Because you are WINNERS, you are WARRIORS, you are FIGHTERS, you are CHAMPIONS, and YOU will lead us to VICTORY! God Bless the U.S.A.!Chicago Police have every right to legally protest against the mayor and an administration that just won’t let them do their job. The killings are at a record pace and tough police work, which Chicago will not allow, would bring things back to order fast...the killings must stop!Funny to watch the Democrats criticize Trade Deals being negotiated by me when they don’t even know what the deals are and when for 8 years the Obama Administration did NOTHING on trade except let other countries rip off the United States. Lost almost $800 Billion/year under “O”Senator Schumer and Obama Administration let phone company ZTE flourish with no security checks. I closed it down then let it reopen with high level security guarantees, change of management and board, must purchase U.S. parts and pay a $1.3 Billion fine. Dems do nothing ... but complain and obstruct. They made only bad deals (Iran) and their so-called Trade Deals are the laughing stock of the world!We are having very productive talks with North Korea about reinstating the Summit which, if it does happen, will likely remain in Singapore on the same date, June 12th., and, if necessary, will be extended beyond that date.SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:This is Jason Seaman. A science teacher and football coach who was shot 3 times while tackling a school shooter today, stopping a potential massacre. This is what a hero looks like.Tommy Robinson has essentially been sentenced to deathDonald Trump Jr. furious with Instagram over warning message to users searching his nameEvidence that Strzok and Page knew they were setting up Papadopoulos in a CIA-FBI entrapment operationBREAKING: Broward Sheriff school resource officer, Scott Peterson, who hid outside while 17 people were shot in Parkland, FL is now being investigated for allegedly covering up an act of sexual assault that Sheriff Israel’s son was accused of committing.🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:This Memorial Day Weekend, do not forget to press F for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our cause.NUCLEAR MOAB DEPLOYED!!!! YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO....Forget it, Netflix. The concept was taken years ago.Ah yesComey vs. ComeySaturday, May 26th:🔥🔥TRUMP TWEETS🔥🔥:Good news about the release of the American hostage from Venezuela. Should be landing in D.C. this evening and be in the White House, with his family, at about 7:00 P.M. The great people of Utah will be very happy!Put pressure on the Democrats to end the horrible law that separates children from there parents once they cross the Border into the U.S. Catch and Release, Lottery and Chain must also go with it and we MUST continue building the WALL! DEMOCRATS ARE PROTECTING MS-13 THUGS.SIGNIFICANT TWEETS AND NEWS:President Trump stands for 90 minutes shaking hands with naval academy graduates. 1 min Video shows every hand shakePres. Trump Set To Sign ‘Right To Try Bill’. "a person who is critically ill would be allowed to request access to treatments not yet approved by the FDA."South Korea And North Korea's Leaders Meet To Discuss President Trump's Summit With Little Rocket Man KimAmy Chozick, author of "Chasing Hillary" realizes her comment may have inadvertently led to one of GEOTUS' best campaign lines🐸 TOP SPICE OF THE DAY 🐸:SCREW HOPE...KICK ASSE V E R Y T I M EFound this gem wandering in the wilds of social media#MAKEAMERICAI see your "#MAKEAMERICA" and raise you "#MAKE"WEEEEEEEEEEEW LAD!!!Without further ado, some tunes to get you jamming while you browse all this WINNING!Trader JoeTadowGo Fck YourselfInto HQI like me betterI feel like I'm DrowningNever Be Like YouMAGA ON PATRIOTS! #robgray

#robgray

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clubofinfo · 7 years

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Expert: All it takes for a society to express fear, paranoia, confusion, and a sort of mad country (riffing on mad cow disease, bovine spongiform encephalopathy) mental disease is a toxic brew of narcissism, propaganda, amnesia, planned and perceived obsolescence and a transnational economic barbarism against the collective masses, and we end up here: Leaders (sic) in USA, Canada, Mexico, most of Latin America, most of Europe, Australia, Japan, Israel and Middle East are as nasty and ethically/morally arrested developed as any of the lots in power-on thrones-in war rooms at anytime during the development (sic) of “civilization,” so much so that’s it’s hard to tell which tentacle of a Trump-styled sea monster really has hold of our collective frontal lobe. These are the days, yessiree — anti-intellectualism, nationalism, demagoguery, disparaging one group after another—Mexicans, Muslims, African-Americans, Asians, women, and any and all competitors. These people in America, like Trump, throw low blows and distribute piles of lies and spread their pandemic of white male billionaire disease, and he rises in the polls, by the very people he and the neoliberals and neocons and Christian-Zionists call parasites, or, deplorables. Adversaries are quickly branded “losers” or “flunkies” or “dopes” or “lowlifes.” I want to lay down, but these countries are like uncles who touch you when you’re young and asleep. Look at all these borders foaming at the mouth with bodies broken and desperate…I spent days and nights in the stomach of the truck; I did not come out the same. Sometimes it feels like someone else is wearing my body. ― Warsan Shire, Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth Anyone can postulate just how long it took, really, for humanity – most certainly the hoards of IKEA-loving developed tooled and armed first world and their groomed despots — to succumb to the adage of we are just apes with nuclear bombs (or monkeys with algorithms, surveillance tools, psychological war weapons, and gobs of fossil fuels). Five decades of collective community abandonment, collective mean styled capitalism, collective delusion; four decades of a collective cult of personality (nothingness), collective imploding of services, public health, welfare, safety; three decades of collective reverse mortgaging education, food systems, public transportation; ten decades of collective see-hear-speak no evil in the midst of massive evil-crimes against humanity/crimes against the globe/crimes against nature/crimes against common sense? The Humanist: Some people are genuinely afraid. Chomsky: They are genuinely afraid. The fear is genuine, and you can’t ridicule people’s genuine feelings. In fact you have to sympathize with them, ask where they’re coming from. In this case I think you can understand it. If you’re crushing somebody under your jackboot, you have to have a reason. The reason can’t be “I’m an evil monster.” The reason has to be either “I’m doing it for their good,” which is the usual reason, or else “I’m afraid of them and if I don’t do it they’ll go after me.” That’s a very prevailing attitude. It can be manipulated and cynical, power-hungry political figures working for concentrations of power do it all the time. Germany, remember, was the most civilized part of the world. It was the peak of Western civilization, the center of the arts, the sciences, and literature. If you wanted to study physics, you went to Germany. Within a few years, it turned into a society of raving maniacs. Why did they destroy the Jews? Out of fear. Because, in their minds, the Jews were going to destroy them. They were defending not only themselves, but the Aryan race against the Jews. The Humanist: That brings us back to the human animal, apparently a very fearful animal. Chomsky: Humans are capable of many things. Some of them are horrible, some are wonderful. The very simple acts of meanness from bureaucracies and the leaders, or so-called leaders, are demonstrative of the scaling up of the barbarity and banality of evil the elite and their minions with their trillions in offshore bank accounts and cachets of diamonds and Great Lakes full of oil have parlayed from this collective lack of empathy. Little Eichmann’s pushing the collective mouse click of despair, and smaller ones with a badge and uniform and pure hatred of blacks-Latinos-gays-demonstrators-people. In Spokane or Tucson, LA or NYC, the agents of human disposal are hard at work – boulder sized concrete detritus spread out under Interstate 90 in the heart of Spokane so vagabonds or local homeless can’t spread their tents and belongings out of the freezing rain. Three hundred dollar tickets for asking a stranger to spare a dime in El Paso or Ventura – both the panhandlers (sic) and the givers subject to fines, handcuffs, jail. True, jail, or worse by just imagining (no, this is not a thought experiment) the few of us who fight back, with words, principles, telling off some Gestapo cop with 17-bullet clips on semi-auto German pistols and their three foot batons and their Kevlar vests and their rapid fire 12 gauge shotguns and their reinforced SUV’s and their sixty foot streams of pepper spray and their hydra-headed Tasers and lobbed shock grenades and rubber bullets and bean bag launchers and their noise throwers, flame throwers, tanks, weaponized drones, conveys of armed Humvees and armored command centers. In Santa Monica you can’t use a public curb to parallel park the old RV or hitched-up trailer. No overnight parking. No living in dignity. No sleeping here, or …? Multi-thousand dollar fines and impounding of those last vestiges of a home before hitting the tarmac with discarded yoga mat. These fascists, knee-jerking Anglo-Caucasians, pushing over food carts in Atlanta or Albany. All American Flag Wrapped wingnuts swastika-tagging food marts owned by Sikh-Vietnamese-Korean-Punjabi in every town and big city, from Pacific to Atlantic. Those 24-hour ticking time bombs of insults, retrograde reporting, falsifications called Mainline Media, failing not even just the humanity test in falsifying what social injustice is, but rubbing out any semblance of reality, as if each and everyone of them with coiffed hair and sweaty lips is Blanche Dubois and Walter Middy on Steroids-Growth Hormone Replacements Fake Journalist/Person. In 2014, 64 communities had citywide bans on public camping, up from 40 in 2011. And the number of cities that prohibit sleeping in vehicles jumped from 37 in 2011, to 81 in 2014 and the number of cities that prohibit sitting or lying in public spaces increased from 70 in 2011, to 100 in 2014. Often called “sit/lie” laws, they prohibit the homeless from sitting or lying down on any street, sidewalk, entrance to a story, alley or other public place. This is the age of shitting on thy neighbor and throwing huge chunks of stone in our greasy collective glass houses: more and more cities are passing bans on begging, loitering and sharing or giving food away in public places, which hurts non-profit, community, individual food give-away programs, and pantries or churches who give food to the homeless on the street. The penalties vary by city and law and can include fines or jail time. Here, read the report on, Ending the Criminalization of Homelessness in U.S. Cities Hell, I worked for one of Portland’s largest homeless and recovery non-profits, and the dude we called our boss, from one of the top five investment (sic) companies, told us social workers to call the cops if we felt threatened, and he believed anyone leaning up against the bricks of our office should be roused by the cops, as Portland has laws against leaning against buildings (you know, this constant rain 6 months out of the year Mini-Metropolis), so god forbid the poor and homeless might get a few minutes of respite under an overhang. Poverty pimps – you don’t have to resort to the Urban Dictionary to understand the connotations of that phrase, but here, read! The term “poverty pimp” is defined as a derogatory label for an individual or group which, to its own benefit, acts as an intermediary on behalf of the poor. Literally, a poverty pimp is an individual or group who solicits for the poor, or it can mean, a welfare system procurer. Poverty pimps gain a higher quality of existence from exploiting the poverty of others. Under the American system of inter-linked public and private social services the poor get helped but not in any effective way; the big bucks go for overhead. As always, a lot of anti-poverty money is going to people who are not poor. There are whole classes of people who live off the services provided to the poor. Ahh, the flipped over America – liberals living off the pain of the poor, and the elites, the bankers, the chosen ones in the renter class, legal class, penitentiary class, they make the big bucks on servicing the poor, forcing them to live lives of toil, legal financial obligations killing them, and so many other things coupled with the very idea that a mark is born every second, and a sucker (read poor, forced poor class) is born every nanosecond. My own work here, at DV, or LA Progressive and a monthly magazine speaks to the shackles poor people trudge around, from a liquor store-gun shop on every corner, to PayDay Loans in every census track, to fence-line communities sucking in the carcinogenic of the hissing, steaming, fogging by-products of the refinery-industrial sized farming industries. Read, my, “Six Degrees of Separation!” “The High Cost of Being Poor,” now eleven years old, from Barbara Ehrenreich, but relevant, by just ramping up the pain and the stats by a factor of five! And this one by Dave Johnson is three years old, good, informed, and yet, keep adding onto the misery these two writers reported — more than half of Americans are near poor, and the one paycheck away from poverty/homelessness /destitution/basement surfing/car sleeping/opiate sucking/booze sucking/suicide is not a story the left-right-in between want to deal with, and those deplorables voting for Trump are most probably not in this huge grouping of Americans working as wage slaves and precarious/temp/ multi-gig fellow citizens who would see the entire shit hit the fan with a bad fall, cancer diagnosis, busted head gasket, death in the family, and jump in the rent even 10 percent. These purveyors of cultural sickness, country-wide hipsterism, nationwide values – the Mainstream Press – come on hard at us, precarious ones, fellow Americans, or whatever they think we are: Republicans constantly talk about how good the poor have it. In 2002 the Wall Street Journal called the poor “Lucky Duckies” because they are “the beneficiaries” of the progressive tax system and pay little or no taxes. But the reality is that it just plain sucks to be poor. It’s actually more expensive not having enough money to get by. Even the pop psychologists who are touted by Alternet and Salon, two pro-Hillary sites, have to weigh in on Trump and our collective psychosis. Here’s one — “Duke Psychiatrist: America Is Having a Nervous Breakdown: Author Allen Frances puts Trump on the couch, and reveals how we might regain our sanity”: The 20 richest people in America have more wealth than half the country. 20 people have more wealth than half the country. The message is real. The Democratic Party has been remarkably inept in connecting with its natural voters. The Republican Party has sold propaganda very successfully, and Trump is the epitome of someone who is the worst possible messenger for a reasonably important message. He’s a false prophet. Every move he’s made has betrayed the people who voted for him. I think that the hope over the next months will be that his falling popularity, from 45 percent to 35 percent, that we’ll see a gradual erosion of people who realize that he was not the man they thought he was. That the hope they rested in him [was] misplaced, a buyer’s remorse, and he will become more and more isolated in office and as a result, will be able to do less damage. Shame, blame, recrimination, prejudice, racism, speciesism, genocide. This is the fabric of a society weened on the hind tit of war games, wars, football on Sunday, cults of patriarchy, disaster capitalism, parasitic money making. This is the end line of those fed on Hollywood lies, normalizing murder, fetishes around looking-feeling-tasting-sounding-smelling like some Disney character. Every day in America, more than half the people are tackled by their own fears, their own lost lives, hoping for some cleaning of the slate, massive restart button, personal-national tabula rasa. Lusting after the good old days of slavery, seeding those first nations’ blankets with smallpox days; those glory days of bombing brown people, ripping off the soul of Mexico; those halcyon days where bombs bursting in air is the theme from sea to shining sea. Everyday I have youth, boy do I have youth, and it’s not just the Trumping of the Worst Presidents on Earth — all 45 — that eats at these 17-to-21 year olds. It’s not the constant bombardment of the gut with the bio-waste of modern (sic) diets eating at the very fabric of their sanity. They sort of get it that their prostate cancers and breast removals in four or five decades might be tied to the cheese in Cheetos or triple-deck cheeseburgers. These youth are worn out at age 18. They are gassed and fatigued. Their poverty and their family pedigrees, all of that, with the shit-storm that is America being our CLASS chiseled country, all of that plus the stupidity of industrial education, the plague of low paying job futures, and the absurdity of the heroes/super heroes they adore making the greenbacks they lust after but really know it’s all smoke and mirrors and Hollywood fascism and Pro-Sports elitism and Music Mental Depravity. It’s the daily examples of burned out infrastructure — nothing for youth, except the impending days of wine, vodka, beer consumption when they hit 21. It’s the absurdly lacking public transportation. The clarion call to get hitched up with car loan, over-priced (usury) rentals, and the endless Twitter and SnapChat of more and more expensive pieces of shit smart-dumb phones and sick loan shark level phone and data plans. Is this the paradise of the blind, the lost generation, the data-info-knowledge fatigue/paralysis generation? Is this the one last thrust of the masses in America to push away those One Percenters and the purveyors of the Christian-Zionist white racist flogging of the other races? These young people know they have been lied to. They know they are in the same rooms-hallways-corridors-churches-malls-warehouses-classrooms of the great con game impresarios. They know their future is looking like chronic asthma, diabetes, brain fog, loss of motor-bodily-cognitive functions. Who in their right mind would not BECOME opiate addicted under this shit hole operation, capitalism, and the con men of the last spasm of unfettered capitalism? Which child living under this web and flaming net of exploitation-disparities-abandonment wouldn’t rather choose/enter into the controllers’ house of torture a la Spanish Inquisition? Better to wig out, check out, burn out, veg out. The bastards are high in number, and the body count is rising. Here, Hedges burns it good, in his piece, “How Careerism is a Big Part of Our Social Predicament“: The greatest crimes of human history are made possible by the most colorless human beings. They are the careerists. The bureaucrats. The cynics. They do the little chores that make vast, complicated systems of exploitation and death a reality. They collect and read the personal data gathered on tens of millions of us by the security and surveillance state. They keep the accounts of ExxonMobil, BP and Goldman Sachs. They build or pilot aerial drones. They work in corporate advertising and public relations. They issue the forms. They process the papers. They deny food stamps to some and unemployment benefits or medical coverage to others. They enforce the laws and the regulations. And they do not ask questions. Good. Evil. These words do not mean anything to them. They are beyond morality. They are there to make corporate systems function. If insurance companies abandon tens of millions of sick to suffer and die, so be it. If banks and sheriff departments toss families out of their homes, so be it. If financial firms rob citizens of their savings, so be it. If the government shuts down schools and libraries, so be it. If the military murders children in Pakistan or Afghanistan, so be it. If commodity speculators drive up the cost of rice and corn and wheat so that they are unaffordable for hundreds of millions of poor across the planet, so be it. If Congress and the courts strip citizens of basic civil liberties, so be it. If the fossil fuel industry turns the earth into a broiler of greenhouse gases that doom us, so be it. They serve the system. The god of profit and exploitation. The most dangerous force in the industrialized world does not come from those who wield radical creeds, whether Islamic radicalism or Christian fundamentalism, but from legions of faceless bureaucrats who claw their way up layered corporate and governmental machines. They serve any system that meets their pathetic quota of needs. Why do people leave their homelands, and seek the very Turtle Island of many of their own societies’ problems, desperation, despair? “No one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark,” is one way to look at it, coming from poet, Warsan Shire. There is no land of milk and honey now that the beasts of any nation have been sucker punched and dumped into the shipping canals of the Goldman and Sachs, the countless ones in Fortune 400 circles, by the 20 richest, meanest people on planet earth! Or the richest in America! How good are they? How shapeless are they in their Lost Paradises? And how many levels down the Dantean flaming ladder will they fall? If ever? That is the question, to flail and flog, or not to! Colonialism only loosens its hold when the knife is at its throat. — Frantz Fanon Replace “colonialism” with capitalism, Wall Street, Military-Financial-Big Pharma-Insurance-Ag-Energy-Surveillance-Prison Complex! http://clubof.info/

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