#which tells us it happened significant years after the outbreak right?

[pomegranatesandribcages]

sorry for my shitty picture but do you think joel tore down the mirror in his house because he couldnt stand to look at the man hed become anymore

[puttingherinhistory]

“Covid has unleashed the most severe setback to women’s liberation in my lifetime. While watching this happen, I have started to think we are witnessing an outbreak of disaster patriarchy.

Naomi Klein was the first to identify “disaster capitalism”, when capitalists use a disaster to impose measures they couldn’t possibly get away with in normal times, generating more profit for themselves. Disaster patriarchy is a parallel and complementary process, where men exploit a crisis to reassert control and dominance, and rapidly erase hard-earned women’s rights. (The term “racialized disaster patriarchy” was used by Rachel E Luft in writing about an intersectional model for understanding disaster 10 years after Hurricane Katrina.) All over the world, patriarchy has taken full advantage of the virus to reclaim power – on the one hand, escalating the danger and violence to women, and on the other, stepping in as their supposed controller and protector.

I have spent months interviewing activists and grassroots leaders around the world, from Kenya to France to India, to find out how this process is affecting them, and how they are fighting back. In very different contexts, five key factors come up again and again. In disaster patriarchy, women lose their safety, their economic power, their autonomy, their education, and they are pushed on to the frontlines, unprotected, to be sacrificed. 

Part of me hesitates to use the word “patriarchy”, because some people feel confused by it, and others feel it’s archaic. I have tried to imagine a newer, more contemporary phrase for it, but I have watched how we keep changing language, updating and modernising our descriptions in an attempt to meet the horror of the moment. I think, for example, of all the names we have given to the act of women being beaten by their partner. First, it was battery, then domestic violence, then intimate partner violence, and most recently intimate terrorism. We are forever doing the painstaking work of refining and illuminating, rather than insisting the patriarchs work harder to deepen their understanding of a system that is eviscerating the planet. So, I’m sticking with the word. 

In this devastating time of Covid we have seen an explosion of violence towards women, whether they are cisgender or gender-diverse. Intimate terrorism in lockdown has turned the home into a kind of torture chamber for millions of women. We have seen the spread of revenge porn as lockdown has pushed the world online; such digital sexual abuse is now central to domestic violence as intimate partners threaten to share sexually explicit images without victims’ consent. 

The conditions of lockdown – confinement, economic insecurity, fear of illness, excess of alcohol – were a perfect storm for abuse. It is hard to determine what is more disturbing: the fact that in 2021 thousands of men still feel willing and entitled to control, torture and beat their wives, girlfriends and children, or that no government appears to have thought about this in their planning for lockdown. 

In Peru, hundreds of women and girls have gone missing since lockdown was imposed, and are feared dead. According to official figures reported by Al Jazeera, 606 girls and 309 women went missing between 16 March and 30 June last year. Worldwide, the closure of schools has increased the likelihood of various forms of violence. The US Rape Abuse and Incest National Network says its helpline for survivors of sexual assault has never been in such demand in its 26-year history, as children are locked in with abusers with no ability to alert their teachers or friends. In Italy, calls to the national anti-violence toll-free number increased by 73% between 1 March and 16 April 2020, according to the activist Luisa Rizzitelli. In Mexico, emergency call handlers received the highest number of calls in the country’s history, and the number of women who sought domestic violence shelters quadrupled. 

To add outrage to outrage, many governments reduced funding for these shelters at the exact moment they were most needed. This seems to be true throughout Europe. In the UK, providers told Human Rights Watch that the Covid-19 crisis has exacerbated a lack of access to services for migrant and Black, Asian and minority ethnic women. The organisations working with these communities say that persistent inequality leads to additional difficulties in accessing services such as education, healthcare and disaster relief remotely. 

In the US, more than 5 million women’s jobs were lost between the start of the pandemic and November 2020. Because much of women’s work requires physical contact with the public – restaurants, stores, childcare, healthcare settings – theirs were some of the first to go. Those who were able to keep their jobs were often frontline workers whose positions have put them in great danger; some 77% of hospital workers and 74% percent of school staff are women. Even then, the lack of childcare options left many women unable to return to their jobs. Having children does not have this effect for men. The rate of unemployment for Black and Latina women was higher before the virus, and now it is even worse. 

The situation is more severe for women in other parts of the world. Shabnam Hashmi, a leading women’s activist from India, tells me that by April 2020 a staggering 39.5% of women there had lost their jobs. “Work from home is very taxing on women as their personal space has disappeared, and workload increased threefold,” Hashmi says. In Italy, existing inequalities have been amplified by the health emergency. Rizzitelli points out that women already face lower employment, poorer salaries and more precarious contracts, and are rarely employed in “safe” corporate roles; they have been the first to suffer the effects of the crisis. “Pre-existing economic, social, racial and gender inequalities have been accentuated, and all of this risks having longer-term consequences than the virus itself,” Rizzitelli says. 

When women are put under greater financial pressure, their rights rapidly erode. With the economic crisis created by Covid, sex- and labour-trafficking are again on the rise. Young women who struggle to pay their rent are being preyed on by landlords, in a process known as “sextortion”. 

I don’t think we can overstate the level of exhaustion, anxiety and fear that women are suffering from taking care of families, with no break or time for themselves. It’s a subtle form of madness. As women take care of the sick, the needy and the dying, who takes care of them? Colani Hlatjwako, an activist leader from the Kingdom of Eswatini, sums it up: “Social norms that put a heavy caregiving burden on women and girls remain likely to make their physical and mental health suffer.” These structures also impede access to education, damage livelihoods, and strip away sources of support.

Unesco estimates that upward of 11 million girls may not return to school once the Covid pandemic subsides. The Malala Fund estimates an even bigger number: 20 million. Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka, from UN Women, says her organisation has been fighting for girls’ education since the Beijing UN women’s summit in 1995. “Girls make up the majority of the schoolchildren who are not going back,” she says. “We had been making progress – not perfect, but we were keeping them at school for longer. And now, to have these girls just dropping out in one year, is quite devastating.” 

Of all these setbacks, this will be the most significant. When girls are educated, they know their rights, and what to demand. They have the possibility of getting jobs and taking care of their families. When they can’t access education, they become a financial strain to their families and are often forced into early marriages. 

This has particular implications for female genital mutilation (FGM). Often, fathers will accept not subjecting their daughters to this process because their daughters can become breadwinners through being educated. If there is no education, then the traditional practices resume, so that daughters can be sold for dowries. As Agnes Pareyio, chairwoman of the Kenyan Anti-Female Genital Mutilation Board, tells me: “Covid closed our schools and brought our girls back home. No one knew what was going on in the houses. We know that if you educate a girl, FGM will not happen. And now, sadly the reverse is true.” 

In the early months of the pandemic, I had a front-row seat to the situation of nurses in the US, most of whom are women. I worked with National Nurses United, the biggest and most radical nurses’ union, and interviewed many nurses working on the frontline. I watched as for months they worked gruelling 12-hour shifts filled with agonising choices and trauma, acting as midwives to death. On their short lunch breaks, they had to protest over their own lack of personal protective equipment, which put them in even greater danger. In the same way that no one thought what it would mean to lock women and children in houses with abusers, no one thought what it would be like to send nurses into an extremely contagious pandemic without proper PPE. In some US hospitals, nurses were wearing garbage bags instead of gowns, and reusing single-use masks many times. They were being forced to stay on the job even if they had fevers.

The treatment of nurses who were risking their lives to save ours was a shocking kind of violence and disrespect. But there are many other areas of work where women have been left unprotected, from the warehouse workers who are packing and shipping our goods, to women who work in poultry and meat plants who are crammed together in dangerous proximity and forced to stay on the job even when they are sick. One of the more stunning developments has been with “tipped” restaurant workers in the US, already allowed to be paid the shockingly low wage of $2.13 (£1.50) an hour, which has remained the same for the past 22 years. Not only has work declined, tips have also declined greatly for those women, and now a new degradation called “maskular harassment” has emerged, where male customers insist waitresses take off their masks so they can determine if and how much to tip them based on their looks. 

Women farm workers in the US have seen their protections diminished while no one was looking. Mily Treviño-Sauceda, executive director of Alianza Nacional de Campesinas, tells me how pressures have increased on campesinas, or female farm workers: “There have been more incidents of pesticides poisonings, sexual abuse and heat stress issues, and there is less monitoring from governmental agencies or law enforcement due to Covid-19.” 

Covid has revealed the fact that we live with two incompatible ideas when it comes to women. The first is that women are essential to every aspect of life and our survival as a species. The second is that women can easily be violated, sacrificed and erased. This is the duality that patriarchy has slashed into the fabric of existence, and that Covid has laid bare. If we are to continue as a species, this contradiction needs to be healed and made whole. 

To be clear, the problem is not the lockdowns, but what the lockdowns, and the pandemic that required them, have made clear. Covid has revealed that patriarchy is alive and well; that it will reassert itself in times of crisis because it has never been truly deconstructed, and like an untreated virus it will return with a vengeance when the conditions are ripe. 

The truth is that unless the culture changes, unless patriarchy is dismantled, we will forever be spinning our wheels. Coming out of Covid, we need to be bold, daring, outrageous and to imagine a more radical way of existing on the Earth. We need to continue to build and spread activist movements. We need progressive grassroots women and women of colour in positions of power. We need a global initiative on the scale of a Marshall Plan or larger, to deconstruct and exorcise patriarchy – which is the root of so many other forms of oppression, from imperialism to racism, from transphobia to the denigration of the Earth. 

There would first be a public acknowledgment, and education, about the nature of patriarchy and an understanding that it is driving us to our end. There would be ongoing education, public forums and processes studying how patriarchy leads to various forms of oppression. Art would help expunge trauma, grief, aggression, sorrow and anger in the culture and help heal and make people whole. We would understand that a culture that has diabolical amnesia and refuses to address its past can only repeat its misfortunes and abuses. Community and religious centres would help members deal with trauma. We would study the high arts of listening and empathy. Reparations and apologies would be done in public forums and in private meetings. Learning the art of apology would be as important as prayer.

The feminist author Gerda Lerner wrote in 1986: “The system of patriarchy in a historic construct has a beginning and it will have an end. Its time seems to have nearly run its course. It no longer serves the needs of men and women, and its intractable linkage to militarism, hierarchy and racism has threatened the very existence of life on Earth.”

As powerful as patriarchy is, it’s just a story. As the post-pandemic era unfolds, can we imagine another system, one that is not based on hierarchy, violence, domination, colonialisation and occupation? Do we see the connection between the devaluing, harming and oppression of all women and the destruction of the Earth itself? What if we lived as if we were kin? What if we treated each person as sacred and essential to the unfolding story of humanity? 

What if rather than exploiting, dominating and hurting women and girls during a crisis, we designed a world that valued them, educated them, paid them, listened to them, cared for them and centred them?“

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #13

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

[AO3]

((edited because I figured out to add some more history facts that I think are important))

~POV Sinbad~

"The Kou Empire, huh?"

"That is going to make things risky."

With all of the Generals caught up with what happened in Balbadd, they needed to start planning for King Sinbad's trip to the Kou Empire, as well as catching him up with everything that had happened in Sindria while he was gone.

"LadY YamuRAI H AA AA A" A yell came from the hallway accompanied by the sounds of running.

((Sinbad is hidden on the left. There's a hint of him poking out.))

A panting magician gave apologies for disturbing their meeting and ran to the head of Sindria's magicians. "I wish I knew you were here so I didn't search the tower first~" Then he started explaining about some magical proof. Most of his words sounded like gibberish to the rest, but it was clear that he had made some kind of break though.

Yam jumped out of her seat. "How did you finally figure it out?! Who figured it out?!" She whipped her head to her King, "Sorry your majesty," and then looked back to the other magician.

"It was the work of the Prophet!” the magician answered. "We were talking about her illness and she pulled out scrolls that- you just have to read them for yourself!”

Mori had said that she had written other scrolls before she started coping down Fate. This must have been what she was working on.

Both magicians bowed out to go test out this new information. Before they could leave, Sinbad ended the meeting; there was no way he was going to wait to learn what other information Mori had blessed them with. Ja'far followed as did a few of the other Generals.

When they got into the court yard, the doctors that had been sent to take care of Mori were already pushing their supply cart back to their main building. The magician that had stayed behind spotted them and raised two scrolls up triumphantly. "She let me take the scrolls!"

---

News of the scrolls written by a Prophet spread throughout the Black Libra Tower within an hour. Yamuraiha and the doctors explained their significance to King Sinbad.

If even a fraction of the theories in the scrolls proved true it would completely changed their understanding of how illnesses work. If Mori wasn't sick she would undoubtedly be swarmed with questions and demands for proof. According to the magicians, nothing in the scrolls went against any known information. Instead, they gave explanations to why certain things that had been attempted in the past had failed. What she wrote about 'cells' was what really caught the eyes of the white magicians and doctors. As an example, according to Mori's writing there were blood types and most couldn't mix; that would explain why most past attempts at blood transfusions had failed.

The 2nd scroll showed a break down of even smaller particles, and how the structures of different particles made up everything. This was going to bring alchemic magic to a whole new era. Sure, such things would most likely be limited to high magicians, group efforts, and the Magi, but it looked possible now. A lot of common magic of the current day took extreme amounts of magoi in the past because they hadn't found the right formula yet. Mori's writing -if true- could easily be used as a guide to finding the right order of commands for many spells.

And even more than that, Mori had said that she had even more information to share; she had just ran out of scrolls and ink.

Mori's presence in Sindria, and everything that went with it were Fate and the Rukh's guidance. King Sinbad could see it -the future he wanted.

---

~POV Mori~

In Sindria's Palace there is a Great Bell. It is rung during celebrations, and to signify the King returning home like it did earlier that day, but it's main use was to ring every 2 hours to tell everyone the time since clocks weren't invented yet. So even though I was a sick person trying to rest during the day, I was woken up by the Great Bell every 2 hours... which of course is also situated right on top of the guest tower.

For obvious reasons, I was awake again.

I wish I knew how the others responded to the scrolls. I really wanted to know Yam's opinion most. Those scrolls basically gave away the secret to Yunan's signature alchemy magic.

I still had the first scroll I had worked on -the one on the science behind blimps-, and the last science scroll I had started. That one was on DNA, and reproductive systems. It was the last one I started in Balbadd. I hadn't started working on it until sunrise on my 2nd sleepless night and it showed; there were missing words everywhere, many incomplete sentences, and I couldn't stay in topic.

These mistakes were too great to fix with an ink knife. Editing was going be super annoying and time consuming since I couldn't work digitally. I'd have to physically cut up the first draft to put everything in the right order before making the next one.

Wait- Did this world have scissors???

Back home the first evolution of shears that could be labeled as scissors was in Roman barber shops in the last hundred years or so before Rome fell. China would spontaneous also create something akin to scissors not long after. Reim and the Kou Empire seemed to line up with Rome and ancient China for the most part, so I tend to use them to place the time period, but the dress Princess Dunya wears is centuries off and throws all historical accuracy questions out the window. Rome was long gone by the time boning was added to women's undergarments, and that dress had all the signs of boned corsetry.

Fuck it. I'll ask for scissors and if they don't have them I'll just invent them myself. I had been drafting professionally for the past 4 years. That may have been for microelectronics, but it uses all the same skills; I could do this. I needed to get a ruler -or at least a straight edge- and a drafting compass which they probably have based on the look of maps in the series, and pencils, or at least colored inks if they had them. I probably needed to reinvent the French curve(stencil tool used in art & drafting)...

Since I was struggling to fall back asleep I moved to the table and pulled out my test scroll. It was full of random marks and some of my early drawing attempts that I used to practice with the dip pen -it's also where I wrote down the dreams from the Rukh. I'd write the list of things I needed, rip the section out of the scroll, and pass the list to someone who could get me what I was asking for. I added some living necessities too like sleep wear and a comb.

The maids that came to give me dinner, and next dose of medicine were not pleased that I wasn't in bed -I was an important guest who was sick after all. And I wasn't pleased to have to drink more of that bitter medicine, but we can't have nice things all the time, now can we?

My voices was strained but I managed to communicate enough. I gave them my list, and laundry (the clothes I wore on the boat) before they left. They'd get me the things the next day. I was instructed to sleep until someone brings me breakfast the next day... which is what I was going to do anyway since the sun was practically gone. I might be a bit of a workaholic but I'm not going to let myself pull an accidental all-nighter when I know I'm still sick. I'm far more self aware than that.

And besides, the Great Bell didn't ring at night.

---

Maids brought my breakfast (& meds) the next morning and let me know that my clothes would be cleaned and dry by the end of the day. I guess they didn't use magic for everything.

They also gave me all of the drafting and inking supplies I asked for except for scissors. In one of the omakes Sinbad was shown cutting his hair with a knife as a part of his normal grooming. I had hoped he was just old fashioned.

For the greater good and the future of my own hair care, I drafted up detailed designs for a few different types of basic scissors. They wouldn't look fancy, but hopefully I had put enough of a detailed explanation on everything for the smith to figure out what I was asking. Steel wasn't developed until the middle ages and some of the counties of this world matched that so I hoped

that God and anime were on my side. I really wanted scissors that would be a good quality.

And if that didn't work I'd just have to get used to using knives and bladed rollers like a regular person.

The Great Bell rung for 10 am. There were at least another 2 hours before someone would show up, to give lunch, that I could ask to take my draft for the scissors to a black Smith.

I should be resting as a sick person. I should be more exhausted and in pain as a sick person. What was making me recover this quickly?

I still didn't feel like laying back down, so I decided to start drafting up the materials and equipment for proving everything I had written in the scrolls I gave the previous day.

Globally, micro-organisms, viruses, and bacteria were not really accept or proved until the late 1800's. Since Magi seems to take place some time around our 100AD-1300, and Yunan hinting at chemical compounds was seen as shocking by Yam, I knew that my bio scrolls were probably causing an uproar in the Black Libra Tower. I refused to use actual people or wait for an outbreak to prove it like how it happened in history -like how John Snow proved it when finding the cause of cholera outbreaks in 1848 and 1854 England. No, I needed to show how to prove these things in a lab, and to do that I was going to need to explain how to keep samples and invent a way to see microorganisms.

First was for a glass petri dish and other containers for samples. I'd need at least 3 -preferably more. I know glass works have been around since BC, and that this world had glass windows in some scenes, but I worried about the quality of the glass contaminating the experiments. I was going to have to boil them beforehand to sterilize them anyway.

Gosh I wish I had access to nonporous, air tight containers, and a temperature controlled environment. The heat and humidity of Sindria could easily mess everything up.

Wait... I suddenly remembered a scene from the Magnostadt arc when they showed how a sample was being stored. They already had good enough glass. I knew there were magic bio experiments but I had no idea how they worked.

With the realization that I was getting ahead myself, I switched to writing about how to use the scientific method to test for germs. It was basically the bread in a bag test to teach young children about germs but with petri dishes. I also wrote about how to analyze samples with a microscope to see micro organisms so I was going to have to figure that out next.

Lunch came as the perfect break.

Just thinking about reinventing this thing made me nervous. I knew magnifying glasses existed in ancient Rome, but they would be nothing like what I was used to. I had to explain how light moves and made multiple diagrams showing how concave and convex lenses affect light as well as the material of the lens. I ended up also showing how to make a telescope even though I knew Yam already had one.

Magicians were the only ones shown with glasses. Maybe now the rest of the world could have them too.

4 o'clock came and so did 3 doctors and a magician. It was less than yesterday, but still more than necessary to treat or analyze one person. I only recognized one of the doctors from the previous day. All of the new faces looked nervous. None of them looked young by any measure, so I really doubted this was their first time treating someone.

They weren't happy to see me at the table and made me return to my bed -their loss.

The doctor from the previous day was the one doing most of the talking. "Your recovery is amazing. You will most likely be better in another 3 days at this rate if not sooner. It's practically a miracle."

I smiled. "It's pretty shocking for me too." As long as I spoke quietly and kept my comments short, I found I could talk again for a bit.

The doctor was silent for a moment before changing the subject. "I know you need rest, but would you be willing to answer a few questions about those scrolls from yesterday?

The 3 other men looked expectant. This was why they were here.

"I don't mind as long as you don't make me talk too much."

Then came the question I was expecting since I had first made the scrolls. "I know you are a Prophet and the information came from your visions but is there any way you can prove what you wrote?"

I pointed to the table with the scroll I had started earlier. "I can't prove it with the current equipment I have, so I've been drafting up the needed equipment and processes for proving it."

They all turned to look at where I was pointing.

I added, "It's not done, but you're welcome to read what I have so far."

I was thanked as they went to the table they had called me away from when they entered.

'He called it 'visions?' Really?' I had to ask Sinbad later what he was telling his people about me so I could keep the story straight.

The magician confirmed for the others what I wrote about light bending. There was magic to do that, but not everyone is a magician. I had just invented a way for non-magicians to bend light.

Just wait until I show them a prism that can split light into colors. Or teach them how light is perceived in the eye. Or even better, show them the double slit experiment that proves that light is a particle not just a wave... Did they know light was a wave yet?

"Lady Prophet."

I was pulled out of my thoughts.

"You said this isn't finished and there is plenty of space in this scroll for more, but would you let us take this back to the tower so we can get started?"

I wanted to say 'no.' I was still coming up with things to add to it, but I also knew that holding things back because I wanted to save paper was a fool's game. Besides, I could always add more to it later.

I nodded and they thanked me before making me promise not to leave my bed. They were grateful for this new scroll but not at the expense of my health -they were doctors after all.

And then they left.

It was probably about 5pm if my internal clock was on schedule, so I had about an hour before the next ring of the Bell.

Even if I wasn't a man of my word, I would have lost the motivation to work with my current project taken from me while I was still in the middle of making it.

So, I did the thing I grew up doing when I was bedridden from illness: I looked out the window. From the bed I could only see the tops of the buildings on the other side of the courtyard. The Tower that was just poking in from the left had to be the Black Libra Tower.

The waves in Sindria were calmer yet stronger than those in Balbadd. It was probably due to Sinbad's influence. He brought stability and security to his people. I could understand why so many chose to follow him or ally with him. But I knew where all this would lead. As he obtains more power and influence he will stop being able to see himself from the pedestal that he and everyone else put him on; his greed will make him blind to the wants and needs of others, and like a middle aged parent that isn't ready for their child to leave the nest he will take out his frustration on the world that was moving on without him. When Sinbad dies at the end of the manga, Drakon realizes that they all put too much on Sinbad's shoulders.

To change Fate, I was going to have to make sure I never put him on that pedestal nor rely on him for much. And I was going to have to convince the 8 Generals to do the same -or at least to start pulling more of the weight.

The 6 o'clock Bell came faster than I expected, as well as my dinner not long after. They brought my clean laundry, a sleeping gown, and some other common clothes and things for my convenience.

I would have preferred something much shorter for the night gown since I hate having a lot of extra fabric around my legs when I already have blankets. I was not going to risk being walked in on by doctors or whoever when sleeping naked, so I would make do for now.

There was no way King Sinbad wasn't going to reward me for those scrolls. If it was some kind of treasure I'd sell it and buy a new wardrobe for myself that actually suited me, and if the reward was a request then I would ask that he pay for everything directly.

The light coming in my windows changed, and I watched my 2nd sunset in Sindria.

When Sinbad found this island 10 years ago, he completely terraformed it. He didn't get rid of all of the vegetation that was here, but he did break down one of the sides to allow for easier access by boat. The side he carved out faced northish towards all of the other known countries, so no boat would have a reason to circle the island. It was a decision that would benefit the merchants and make it easier to defend.

It also meant that my windows faced west, so I could watch the Sun set every day. I couldn't help but see that as a blessing and a curse. Sure not getting the sunrise meant I'd need to put more effort into

waking up in the morning but that wasn't the part I was worried about.

See- The thing is... I have synesthesia (having 2 or more senses overlapping). I see sounds, letters, and numbers as colors and textures. I have it mild enough that I can normally block it out so it's not too distracting (thank God because music is a main stim), but sometimes I'll hear something and get overwhelmed by how it looks.

Each letter and number is a color. So every voice can make every color, but language, pitch, tone, and accent all affect the colors and textures I see from a person's voice like a filter. There have definitely been some people that I struggled to give my full attention to when I first met them because I was entranced by how their voice looked. The more I hear a person's voice the more I'm able to move its visuals to the background so I can focus -desensitizing myself to it.

Luckily, Sinbad's voice is normally not so distracting that I stop paying attention. Since it's like a merger of every voice actor I've heard play him (All the characters I had met so far were like this.) I'm already desensitized. The similarities across all of the VAs meant that his voice looked like a sunset -full of deep purples and magentas, and bright reds, peach, and gold, and with a smooth and flowing texture like painting in acrylic with a wet brush -like a painting of the last moments of a sunset.

His voice was as pretty as he was.

I hadn't actually gotten to see or hear him for a whole day. But I'd get to look at his voice's equivalent every day while living under his protection.

It was frustrating to admit -I barely knew him as a real person- yet I couldn't deny that I missed him. I feel asleep watching the sun set.

((I wasn't going to write about my synesthesia, but this is my fanfic and I thought it might be fun to reference the colors peoples voices make when the characters talk. I'm not going to paint every VA and head cannon, but I will describe them as I go. Ja'far's Japanese and English VAs have voices that look very different so finding the middle ground is proving tricky.

Also, anyone who noticed that the purple I see in Sinbad's voice is the same as the purple I've been using for the illustrations and comics is super smart and cool.))

[thedistantdusk]

Private

Thanks to @floreatcastellumposts for Brit-picking and @el-eye-zee-aye for organizing the Harry/Ginny Discord birthday challenge! This was a lot of fun! T for language/mild sexual humor. 

On AO3

________________________

Being the significant other of the most desirable wizard in Britain doesn’t come without drawbacks. Ginny knew that from the off. Even the earliest days of their raw, rekindled relationship were marked with requests for interviews, a trend that continued throughout the summer of 1998. When she returned to Hogwarts that September, reporters took it upon themselves to sneak onto the platform, capture her and Harry’s final, departing snog… and then reprint it, absolutely everywhere. Without their consent.

Her decision to pursue professional quidditch after Hogwarts made the situation both better and worse. On one hand, the publicity became less random. Less speculative. As soon as she signed with the Harpies, her privacy was protected — at least to some degree. Press events were soon planned and targeted instead of the sporadic, anxiety-inducing sneaks attacks to which she’d become accustomed.

The trade-off, of course, is that when press events do happen, they’re dreadful.

Utterly, completely dreadful.

Ginny sits in the enormous purple armchair and bites the inside of her cheek. She hates interviews like these… ones of the aforementioned dreadful variety. This one is with Sandra Richardson of Witch Weekly, a woman known for her propensity towards twisting words and taking statements out of context. But it’s part of the job, Ginny reminds herself for the thousandth time that morning. She must sit through six of these per year, each before a match. She must be generally pleasant and polite. She must represent her team well.

And above all else, she must not lose her temper. Right.

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” croons a dripping, saccharine voice. Oh. Ginny swallows. Sandra Richardson, here for the interview.

Sandra places the tray on the table between them and shoots Ginny a wink as she begins pouring tea for each of them. A younger, more naive Ginny might have trusted Sandra from her appearance alone. Her gold jewelry and buttoned blouse make her seem more matronly than predatory. But just as she plops down in her armchair, brushing a lock of her coiffed blonde hair from her forehead, Ginny catches a look in her eyes that she’s all too familiar with.

Ambition… red-hot, glowing ambition. The type she’ll chase with everything she has.

Yes. Ginny sits up a bit straighter. The interview hasn’t started, but she already sees it for what it is. The whole thing now reminds of scoldings in Umbridge’s office.

“Sugar?” Sandra gestures towards a polka-dotted dish in front of them.

Ginny forces a smile. “No thanks.” Merlin knows she won’t be drinking it. This is what they do, these reporters; they lull you into a false sense of security with their tea and their biscuits and their grins. Once upon a time, Ginny was thick enough to fall for that — for the manipulation disguised as courtesy. Now, she’s a bit wiser.

“Interesting,” says Sandra, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh?” Ginny can’t fathom why, but she has a feeling she’s about to find out anyway.

Sandra slowly sips her tea before she lifts her quill and notebook. “Are you abstaining from sugar for… any particular health reason?” she asks, her lips curled in a coy smirk.

Ginny gets the unnerving sensation that the interview started long ago. She refuses to give Sandra the satisfaction of a true reply.

“Nope,” she replies brightly, clasping her hands in her lap. “Just not my prefere—

“—Mm,” interrupts Sandra. “Because I hear that sugar and caffeine often trigger morning sickness. Did you know that, Ginny?”

Ginny’s forced smile remains in place. In truth, she’d expected something like this. Their wedding is soon — very soon. People have been pestering them about their reproductive plans for months. Sandra certainly isn’t above the masses.

“I didn’t,” Ginny says smoothly. “But let’s discuss quidditch. It’s why I’m here, after all!” She shoots Sandra a knowing wink and hopes that conveys when she can’t say: mind your fucking business, you cow.

Unfortunately, Sandra doesn’t take the hint. “It’s now 6th August, Ginny. Officially in between the birthdays of you and your Chosen One.”

“Well spotted,” Ginny notes, still grinning. “Who needs calendars when we have you?”

There’s a beat.

For just a second, Ginny thinks she’s gone too far… but she soon realizes that with Sandra, there’s no such thing as a boundary.

“We’ve all swooned over those photos of him holding your niece — oh, what’s her name…” Sandra taps her teeth, pretending like she doesn’t know the answer; Ginny’s blood rises to a low simmer. “Victoria?”

“Victoire,” Ginny grits. Little gets her back up faster than bringing oblivious children into things. Especially when they’re used for manipulation tactics.

“Oh yes, that’s right,” Sandra croons. “Victoire!” She places a hand over her heart as if reliving a poignant memory… as if she’s had any bloody involvement in Vic’s life. “She’s such a gorgeous baby, isn’t she?”

Ginny forces a laugh. “You’d know, I reckon, since you’ve seen her! Now.” She clears her throat. “I’ve a game in two weeks against the Falcons. Let’s discuss—”

“In time,” Sandra says, waving a manicured hand. To her left, a fluttering of movement catches Ginny’s eye. Shit. The white feathered end of a Quick Quotes Quill furiously darts through the air as the tip scribbles on a notepad. When did Sandra take that out? She thought for certain that Hermione banned them…

“But for now, let’s focus a bit on you, eh?” Sandra presses, her cloud of blonde hair brushing against her shoulders as she cocks her head. “I’m sure readers would be titillated to hear about how your fiance has been in quarantine for over a month. What’s that been like?”

Ginny snorts. Oh, for the love of -- that’s what she’s getting at?! The complete non-story of Harry being quarantined?

“That’s… not very exciting,” Ginny replies. Because it isn’t. With a bored voice, she begins the thousandth recollection of exactly how and why her fiance hasn’t been able to leave the house for two weeks. “Harry was raised by muggles and wasn’t exposed to Dragon Pox as a child. With the latest outbreak in London, the Auror Department wanted to keep him home until they’re finished with the latest preventative potion.” Ginny picks at a piece of lint on the velvet couch. “It’s quite dull.”

Just like this interview.

The remainder of the sentence remains unspoken in the air, but Ginny hears it resonating in her head so loudly she almost jumps.

Sandra just gives her a knowing smirk; Ginny feels a rush of relief that the woman isn’t a Legilimens. “I don’t know. Sounds like fun, having a man all wrapped up for you, 24/7?”

Ha! This time, Ginny really does laugh. Seriously, what is the media obsession with constant sex? She’s about to launch into an explanation about how it’s thoroughly possible to be too bored to shag, but Sandra cuts her off with an even more horrendous question.

“Remind me,” says Sandra, leaning in close. “How old were your in-laws when their Chosen One was born?”

Oh, for the love of—

Ginny bats her eyelashes fiercely. “I’m sure you know,” she says through gritted teeth, “since you’re asking this question. But seeing as how we can’t bloody ask them, I don’t find it appropriate to—“

“Lily Potter was nineteen when she fell pregnant,” Sandra says through a stage whisper. She claps her hands together as if she finds this a truly revealing statement. As if anyone isn’t capable of reading the bloody gravestones and doing the math.

Ginny clears her throat. “Good to know. So the Harpies only have one more match this year, and—“

“You’re 19,” Sandra adds, continuing the conversation she’s only been having with herself. “The rumors around London are that the quarantine is bogus. Has Harry already quit his job to be a stay at home dad? He’d love to have his own Chosen Ones, Miss Weasley.”

In retrospect, Ginny will realize that this comment is the final fucking straw. She could handle the false flattery. She could see through the batted eyelashes and the singsong lulling into complacency. But she cannot — will not — stand for this complete cow spreading rumors about Harry.

But instead of handling any of it maturely, she rises to her feet, glares at Sandra, and provides a retort so lewd, so scathing, that it rocks the tabloids for months.

And with a triumphant quirk of her eyebrow, Ginny turns on the spot and disapparates, leaving Sandra’s dropped jaw to tremble as the Quick Quotes Quill continues scribbling so fast it scratches the parchment.

Even before her feet touch down, she regrets the whole ordeal.

She doesn’t regret telling Sandra off, mind — but with a wince, Ginny accepts that yes, she does regret how she did it. She regrets that she’s just given the cow enough ammunition to paint her as a true villain. She regrets that she involved Harry and—

Harry.

Ginny shudders. Harry, who values his privacy above everything else. Harry, who won’t discuss anything about her in interviews, but still gets this adorably lovesick grin whenever her name comes up. Harry, who loves her. And trusted her.

Fuck.

Ginny pinches the bridge of her nose, her stomach sinking, and wonders how in hell she’s going to talk her way out of this one.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t have long to ponder how she’ll break the news. In the blink of an eye, Harry’s coming around the corner. Poor bloke. It’s not like he’s got much else to do but await her return. This whole quarantine experience is uncomfortably reminiscent of Sirius' last months of life. She can't ignore the ghostly memory of Dumbledore’s gentle chiding that energetic young men (and women, she supposes) don’t do well cooped up, cut off from the outside world...

“Hey!” says the man in question, flashing her a smile. “That was a quick one! Thought I heard you, but you’re—“

“I fucked up.”

Her whisper echoes in the flat. She stares at her trainers, her face burning.

She blinks up as Harry shifts in place; his smile is nowhere to be seen, replaced with the look she knows and hates. Harry’s jaw is set, his eyes narrowed in concern. He’s doing the whole I’m-strong-for-you-but-I’m-afraid.

“Erm. Ok?” he asks, gesturing towards the couch. “Would you like to...?”

“I’ve said something during the interview I shouldn’t,” Ginny adds, biting the inside of her cheek. “Something I definitely, definitely shouldn’t.”

There’s another pause. Ginny worries, just for a second, that she’s scared him or that he’s somehow already heard.

But she should’ve known him better. Because in a split-second, Harry both senses exactly what she needs... and acts on it.

He wraps her in his arms and rests his chin on the crown of her head. He presses her face to his chest and guides them both to the couch and makes soothing murmurs and brushes the hair away from her jaw.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says gently. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you claim, but—”

“It is,” Ginny whispers, miserable.

Harry shrugs. “Well, I can’t possibly know until you tell me, so—”

“She— she mentioned your mother.”

Harry’s chest stiffens as he draws a sharp breath; she gets the impression he’s trying very hard to wait until she’s done to interject with words of support.

“She... Sandra... she mentioned that I’m nearly 19, your mother was 19 when she fell pregnant, and—”

Harry cuts her off with a snort. “And does she think that was on purpose? I mean I’m happy I’m here, but yeah...” He shifts her in his arms, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t seem entirely intentional, given the circumstances.”

“Well, babies have a tendency of showing up like that,” Ginny replies dryly. “Sandra did raise a good point about making sure we’re... being careful.” She grazes a fingernail up his arm and relishes when his skin erupts in gooseflesh.

For a fleeting, victorious second, Ginny thinks she’s distracted him. She thinks she’s achieved her ultimate goal of turning his attention to the 24/7 sex they’re alleged to be having.

But she should know better, really, that Harry would ever be fooled when it comes to her.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Harry rumbles, his voice gentle but firm. “Not like I’ve got anywhere else to go, after all. We can sit here for the next few weeks if—”

“She asked when we’re having kids. And not just in passing,” Ginny adds, raising a pointer finger. “No, Harry, she pushed. Over and over. She suggested I was already pregnant, she brought up your mother, she asked when I’d function as the vessel for the Chosen One’s offspring…” She trails off with a sigh. “So. Finally, I snapped.”

He takes her still-extended pointer finger and gently pushes it into a fist. “What did you tell her?” he asks, kissing her knuckles. “Because from what I’m hearing, it sounds like she deserves it. Honestly I’m surprised you didn’t—”

“Isaidwhenyoustopfinishingonmytits!”

There’s another pause. “Erm, sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite—”

“I said,” Ginny repeats, her voice strained, “that we’ll have a baby when you stop finishing on my tits!”

Fuck.

She groans, sliding her hands over her face. Recapping this is somehow worse than living it the first time. Speaking it to Harry changes the stakes. It turns the situation from hypothetical to absolute. It solidifies that she fucked up... she really, really fucked up.

And she’s so lost in humiliation, so buzzing with horror, that it takes her a second to realize that Harry isn’t buzzing for the same reasons. Although he’s certainly shaking, isn’t he?

A second later, she dares to peer at him through her fingers. To her delight, Harry’s not furious — he’s laughing!

And when they make eye contact, his silent shaking transforms into full-body laughter. The type that sends tears to his eyes. The type that’s infectious, contagious. The type that makes her want to laugh, too.

“So I take it you’re not… angry?”

Harry wipes his eyes. “Ginny,” he says weakly, “I’m laughing so hard I can’t breathe! Did you actually think I’d be angry over that?” He snorts, pressing her against his chest again. “No. For once and for all, no. She crossed a line, and she got what was coming.”

“But you hate attention,” Ginny moans into his shoulder. “You hate big displays and personal things being public and—”

“But I love you,” he says softly, kissing her temple. He gives a dry chuckle that sends tingled through her body. “And to be honest, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t go off on people. Especially when they deserve it.”

She sighs, pulling back. She has to see his face to confirm. To reassure herself. As she’d suspected, Harry’s just giving her a wry smirk. His green eyes are flooded with warmth as he peers back at her. Even after all this time, he still looks at her like he can’t believe she’s there. Like he can’t believe she’s his. His smirk grows to a full-on grin, and Ginny bites her lip; she thinks he’s about to provide some sappy, lovesick rebuttal.

Instead, he replies with something that’s simultaneously the absolute best — and the absolute worst.

“Besides,” Harry says casually. “Joke’s on them. We both know I’d never have the self-control or coordination to finish on your tits.”

With that, she laughs... really, truly laughs. She relaxes against his side, letting the soothing rhythm of his voice wash over her. He laces his fingers through hers. He plays with the strands of her hands.

And by the end of the night, she’s thankful for exactly two things: her fiancé in quarantine, and the contraception that will keep them from enacting Sandra’s plan for a long, long time.

[anarchy-n-glitter]

The Volkov Files

Summary: Years after the Raccoon City incident, questions arise after the body of an old friend is used to taunt Leon Kennedy on a mission. Who was Envy Snow really? Why was she in Raccoon City when the outbreak happened? When was she killed and who killed her?

FILE 1, FILE 3

FILE 2

IV

Leon looked at Envy as she stood, bent over and catching her breath. She was rather tall and pale, her hair matching that same snow white skin. She wore a blue, zip-up vest and a white skirt that was already splattered with blood. She looked at Leon through her long, doe-like lashes with eyes that resembled icy water. Her lips were parted slightly as her chest rose and fell, taking in deep breaths. However, Leon could see the deep red gashes on her upper arm that contrasted with her pale skin and stained her gloves.

“We have to get out of here.” She breathed. Leon nodded before pointing at her arm. She looked down at her arm, lifting it slightly to observe it. He got down onto one knee, leading Natalya to do the same.

“I’m aware. I didn’t have time to patch it up, as you can tell.” She said before gesturing to the dead zombies on the ground. Leon reached into a pouch on his hip and retrieved a small can. He shook it before holding out his hand. Natalya eyed it suspiciously then, slowly, she held out her arm, allowing Leon to take it. He began to spray her wound with a cold, scentless liquid that stung slightly. Natalya winced, shocked by the sudden sensation. Leon finished up quickly and reached into his pouch again to grab bandages, which he promptly began to wrap around her arm.

“Now we can get out of here.” He said. Natalya looked at him, silently figuring him out as if he were some sort of puzzle for her to solve. He was bright eyed and painfully optimistic, young too. She feared that he was a danger to himself; that he’d end up getting killed. She knew it wasn’t fair, but it was how the world worked, no matter what field of work you were in.

Natalya’s eyes glanced at the letters on his chest: RPD. She smiled in a fake manner, hoping that he knew what he was doing.

“Then lead the way.” She said. Leon took her hand and helped her up to her feet. She brought her other hand up to grasp at her wounded arm and watched as Leon cautiously walked down the hall, flashlight and gun pointed in the same direction. He seemed capable enough, but Natalya wasn’t quite ready to trust someone she just met.

Puddles splashed beneath their heels as the walls groaned and creaked. Leon was ready to fire, because he knew at any second a zombie could round the corner. Being ready meant life or death. Natalya felt incredibly vulnerable standing behind Leon. She didn’t have a flashlight of her own and the light of his wasn’t enough to illuminate their surrounding area. Something could sneak up behind her and she’d be done for.

Perhaps that is his plan, she thought to herself, maybe he knows and he’s leading me to my doom. Of course, Natalya knew that this was just paranoia. Years of being a spy took a toll on how one views the world and the people living in it. Now that Raccoon City was having its own mini apocalypse, this thought process was amped up to one hundred.

Normally she wouldn’t be so reliant on someone, but now? Now that she was out of bullets and wounded? Now she would certainly rely on someone, as long as she knew that they were trustworthy.

“How much longer?” She asked him. He glanced back at her, opening his mouth to reply, but he was stopped by the sounds of growling. He whipped his head around and focused on the rotting creature in front of him. He backed up slightly, the hand with the gun coming down and out to the side so he could shield Natalya.

“Get back!” He yelled to her, and she obliged without question. The zombie reached out at Leon, its fingers flexing and moving in unnatural ways as it attempted to grab at his warm flesh. Natalya drew a knife. It was a small pocket knife that was easily concealed by her thigh-high boots. It fit easily into her hand and remained hidden there until she knew what Leon was doing.

The zombie lunged, screeching hysterically. Leon dodged its pathetic attempts at catching him and re-aimed his gun, pointing it directly at its head. He fired, blood splattered everywhere as well as chunks of skull, but the creature was not deterred. Natalya backed up against the wall, watching wearily as the zombie went in for another attack. It grabbed Leon by the shoulders and prepared to bite, but he pulled a knife and buried it deep into the monster’s chest and pushed it away. He aimed again and took two more shots, both hitting the head of the zombie. This time it fell, collapsing to the ground with a loud THUD!

Leon walked over to it and grabbed his knife back before turning his attention to Natalya.

“Come on. I don’t think this thing is gonna stay down for long.” He told her, and she obeyed, running toward him, her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. She found herself grabbing ahold of his shoulder, allowing him to completely lead the way. They reached a door and Leon slowly opened it, peeking through the crack to be sure the coast was clear. They entered the main hall of the RPD, it was empty save for Marvin, as it usually was. Natalya broke away from Leon, looking around as he rushed over to Marvin, who was behind a screen, laying down on one of the couches.

He stopped and glanced back at Envy.

“Hey, the way out’s over here. I just gotta get Marvin and put this last piece in the thing and then we can get outta here.” He told her, gesturing to where the giant statue of a woman stood. Natalya nodded and followed him over to the back of the hall, where she finally saw the man Leon was referring to as “Marvin.” He sat on a green couch, holding his right side, which was bleeding profusely. Leon placed the last medallion into a slot on the base of the statue, and the base shifted, revealing a tunnel below the floor. Natalya stared in awe, shocked that such a place would have secret tunnels. Although, she supposed that wasn’t the oddest thing she had come across in America, especially in this city.

Leon had been a bit preoccupied, arguing with Marvin as Natalya stared into the depths of the RPD. Things got more heated behind her, but she wouldn’t realize that until she heard a gun being cocked. She turned around to see Marvin holding Leon by gunpoint.

“It’s on you now… just go!” Marvin told Leon. Leon simply stood there, looking at the dying man. Natalya came up behind him and placed her hand on his shoulder.

“I understand.” Leon said before touching Natalya’s hand and turning around. The two walked down the steps together and took their first steps to reuniting with the outside world. Before they entered the tunnel below, Leon took one last look at Marvin.

2

The rookie cop, as I had heard some people call him, whether through notes or actual survivors, was a kind man who had helped me escape the RPD. I fear that, had I not met him, I might have been the only living person left in that place. I might not have made it without Leon.

He led me into a room below the RPD, which might be in your interest to investigate after this. There was a small model of the station on a desk, and it didn’t seem to have any significance, despite how many times I searched it.

Leon and I made it into some sort of boiler room, but that was when we got separated. He went ahead of me after we heard a noise. I had already picked up some ammo and reloaded my weapons, so I went to investigate. Something happened and a tunnel collapsed behind me, the last thing I remembered before that was the sounds of metal getting smashed in. I supposed maybe some sort of foundation involving pipes broke and it caused the doorway to crumble, but I wasn’t sure, so I continued on.

3

Natalya picked up a box of handgun ammo and quickly loaded it into her gun, following Leon closely into a boiler room. It was large, and, despite its size, was rather cramped. The floors were metal and echoed loudly as they walked. Steam rose from a machine below them, creating a thick fog that temporarily blinded the two. She gripped her gun tighter.

There was a loud grunt, followed by booming footsteps above them. More sounds resonated throughout the chamber, unsettling moaning that communicated pain. Leon lifted his gun again and looked back at Natalya.

“What was that?” She asked. Leon didn’t answer, instead, he continued to travel down the path. When the noises didn’t stop, Natalya froze in her tracks.

“Envy…” Leon began. Natalya lifted a finger to her lips.

“I’m going to investigate.” She told him. He wanted to tell her not to, but he knew it would do no good. It took him a few moments, but eventually he nodded. Natalya turned around and ran off in the other direction in search of some stairs.

Leon continued on the path he was taking before.

V

Transcript (translated):

September 24th, 1998

N: Leon and I were separated. I can hear the sounds of metal hitting metal from down the corridor. I might need backup, I might need to be extracted from the city; there aren’t many people left in the city and I haven’t seen Ms. Wong anywhere. Not a trace of her.

P: Who’s Leon?

N: A man I met. He knows his way around the city; a police officer.

P: What does he know of us?

N: Not much. He doesn’t even know my real name.

P: Good. I’m afraid, NV, that we cannot extract you from the city until you find Ms. Wong. You have to trade information.

N: I don’t even know if she’s alive!

P: That doesn’t matter, find her and get the information. If you cannot do that you are useless to us.

N: So if I don’t find her you’ll leave me to die here?

P: I’m afraid so. You’ll be a liability.

N: Fine.

P: Report back when you find the target.

N: Yes, sir.

(Phone line ringing.)

2

The halls were dark and quiet, save for the brief shuffling of feet coming from a zombie or two. Natalya held up a dying flashlight, one that she found on the body of a dead officer. From what she could tell, she was in a prison. Cells could be seen to her left and right, some occupied by zombs (as Natalya liked to call them), some not. They would reach through the bars, their bloody hands grabbing for her even though she was just out of their reach. She wanted to shoot them, just to be sure they didn’t get out and try to kill her later, but she knew that she was low on ammo again. Despite being in a police station, ammo was pretty scarce.

Then she saw them, a figure, a shadow moving in the darkness. She could see from their silhouette that they were wearing heels, and assumed that this person was a woman. She hid behind the wall, peaking around the corner every now and then to watch what they were doing. The woman opened the gate down the hall, entering and talking to someone. Natalya wanted to move out, but knew that she couldn’t. Silently she hoped that this woman was Ada, but she remembered Leon mentioning a woman named Claire, so the chance was slim.

She could hear two voices vaguely. They spoke in a whisper; one was a deeper voice that sounded vaguely familiar, and the other was the distinct voice of a woman. The man’s voice rose, claiming that he didn’t even know her name. Then Natalya heard it, he announced his name. “Leon Kennedy.” Natalya could feel her hopes rise and immediately became relieved now that she knew that he was okay. Heels clicked as the woman began walking down the hall.

“Name’s Ada.” She told him, her heels clicking loudly as she walked off. Natalya pressed her back against the wall and began to move away from the corner. The target was there, but she needed to see Leon again, just to make sure he was actually okay. She found a door and opened it, which led her into a closet. She hid and waited for the target to move, then she’d follow her… after she talked to Leon. She opened the door again to watch where Ada went, and once she was sure she was gone she moved toward the corner again.

She saw him standing there, reading a paper. She grabbed ahold of the bars on the gate and tried to push it open, only to realize it was locked. Leon turned around after he heard the gate rattle, gun pointed at her. His face softened as soon as he realized it was her.

“Leon?” She called out. He smiled at her.

“Envy.” He breathed out before immediately rushing over, stopping just in front of the gate.

“How’s your arm?” He asked. She smiled.

“Fine.” She reassured him. She looked over him, making sure that he didn’t have any wounds on him. He reached out to push on the gate, which didn’t budge even on his side. Natalya shook her head.

“It’s locked.” She told him. He sighed and took a step back before drawing his gun again.

“I’ll come find you.” He promised her. She shook her head again before looking behind her, eyeing the corridor Ada had gone down.

“Don’t worry about me. I have something else I need to do. Maybe we could meet up in the parking garage.” She told him. He looked over his right shoulder after hearing a groan, then he looked back to her.

“Yeah. Deal.” Natalya then ran off, attempting to catch up with Ada. Leon was left wondering what it was she had to do; and what she was doing coming from where Ada had walked in.

Natalya ran down the hallway to her left before coming to a door.

3

I had tracked Ada the best I could in the prison but I ended up losing her. I’ll admit, perhaps seeing Leon beforehand was a mistake, but I needed to know if he was okay. When I had met him, I was sure he was doomed. But, as time went on and as he fought, I realized that I was routing for him. I wanted to see him succeed in this unfair world. We would grow closer as time went on, after we had reunited of course.

As time would go on, I would fall for him. He was so optimistic; it was almost contagious. He tried his best to protect the survivors, and, if I weren’t in the predicament I am in as I write this, I would have loved to see him continue on as an officer. He had the heart for it, and he wore it on his arm for the world to see.

I just wish I could get out of here, but I can’t right now or they’d find me. And I know he’ll never see this, but I wish I could have gotten on the train with him and his friend Claire. I knew that they were following me, that man and his woman, so I knew not to lead them to the last few survivors. They’d kill them and then me.

So here I am, writing this as some sort of sick memoir. I’m hiding in a locker, shining my flashlight on this small notebook that I found on a nearby desk. I just wanted to explain how I got here, possibly even what led up to my death, if this should go in that direction. And I want-again, even though I know he won’t see it-Leon to know that, despite how short our time was together, how wonderful he was as a person. Any other person would have left me to die in the station, but you helped me.

4

Leon clutched the note in his hand, crumpling the sides slightly as he read. He couldn’t believe it. He knew she was killed, he saw her body on his last mission but… she had died years ago. The people who had killed her were tracking her in Raccoon City and she refused to go with him because she knew that they’d come for her and kill them all.

Leon knew that Wesker was involved. He had to have been, why else would he leave her body for him to see? But the thing that got him was, they preserved her body. They had planned to use her for something, whether it really was just to taunt him or for something else.

He knew that she had cared for him though, and that on its own was something to behold. Despite how emotionless she seemed, he could tell that she was fond of him. Although, from the way she worded it, it seemed like it was more of a fascination with him. Now, with this new evidence, he questioned what his life would have been like had the Raccoon City incident never happened. Would she still have come to Raccoon City to look for Ada? Would they still have met? What would have happened if Umbrella wasn’t after her? If Wesker wasn’t?

So many questions. All without answers.

5

She had lost Ada, but she gained a stalker. It was the man. The man from the party. He had come for her. Natalya was still unsure of the reason, but she knew it wasn’t good. Perhaps he knew who she was, possibly since the party, but now he was going to get rid of her. She picked up her pace, walking faster, acting like she didn’t know he was there. He walked at the same pace, allowing her to get some distance between her, but she was a tricky one. The next zomb she saw she’d throw at him and make a run for the parking garage so she could wait for Leon.

He was silent. Every part of him was silent, even the way he walked. Natalya didn’t like that.

She turned another corner, and, for once in her life she hoped a zomb would be there. There wasn’t. So she kept walking, searching every nook and cranny for ammo or other valuable items. She found a hip pouch just a few minutes earlier, and now she was looking for other things. For example, a key card so she could get the hell out of the station and out into the streets so she could lose this creep.

Natalya only had ten days left to live, and now the reaper is following her.

VI

“Leon!” Natalya shouted. He turned around immediately, watching as she struggled to run. Ada stopped dead in her tracks and watched as a familiar face ran up to them. Envy Snow, she knew her and she knew that Envy was a codename. She eyed the woman wearily, but didn’t bother to say anything to Leon, who seemed relieved and overjoyed to see her.

“You made it.” He breathed. Natalya nodded and looked over at the woman in the trench coat: Ada. She stood at the mouth of the garage, staring the two down behind her dark glasses. Natalya, for once, felt like she couldn’t be bothered with the mission. Ada was there, yeah that was great, but she didn’t feel rushed to get info out of her. She didn’t want to do the tradeoff yet, especially if it meant leaving without Leon.

Leon followed her gaze to Ada.

“Oh, Envy, this is Ada. She’s helping me get out of here.” Natalya stepped forward, smiling at the woman she knew was a spy.

“I know… we’ve met.” Ada didn’t say a word to Envy. She knew that she had to do an exchange, but she knew she couldn’t do it there. Not in front of Leon. There was a loud crashing noise from the corner of the garage which put Leon on edge. He began to move forward slowly, which in turn caught the attention of Ada and Natalya.

“I think we should get going.” He said, moving ahead of the two spies. Ada was next to get moving, but Natalya stood there staring at the wall that began to crumble as something large moved through it, going deeper into the building and moving away from them. She finally turned around to follow Leon and Ada after being sure the thing that caused the hole wasn’t going to follow them.

The streets were as she remembered them: wet and simultaneously on fire with the infected hiding behind every corner. Ada took the lead, guiding the other two through the dilapidated roads to-what they hoped to be-freedom. Leon stood protectively in front of Natalya, despite her own urge to protect him and her ability to protect herself. She would never admit it aloud, but she thought it was sweet.

Zombies toppled over crashed cars as they attempted to get to the group. Natalya would try not to jump when she heard one scream or groan, but, especially when it was a scream, she couldn’t help it. Ada walked coolly and calmly through the streets, clearing whatever she could with what little ammo she had left, leading Leon and Natalya to do the same. Gunshots would echo through the open world, which, despite what they were aiming to do, would draw more zombies to their location. They would come in droves, lunging at the group when they got close enough. Natalya grasped her pocket knife in her hand and went in for the kill. She figured if she could stab it in the head they’d die. This plan, however, only worked for certain zombies. Natalya quickly realized this as one grabbed ahold of her arm and prepared to bite into it. She panicked and tried to rip her arm away, but to no avail. Her free hand fumbled for her gun.

Her gloved fingers kept grazing the handle, but in a panic, she was unable to grab ahold immediately. Luckily, as they were walking, Leon heard the commotion. Natalya had finally managed to get ahold of herself and the gun and promptly raised it. She was still fending off the creature, trying her best to keep its gnashing teeth away from her arm. Leon rushed over, his gun aimed and at the rotting person. Natalya had managed to get her knife free with her gun hand (on accident, of course), but in the process, she had lost her hold on the creature’s head. It was about to bite down, when two gunshots rang through her ears.

The bullets had torn through the back of the zombie’s head, shattering its rotting teeth in the process. Its grasp loosened around her wrist as it fell backward, still gurgling and growling. Natalya took a moment to process what had just happened, but Leon grabbed her shoulder, turning her around to look at him and Ada.

“We gotta keep moving.” He reminded her as more of the infected closed in around the trio.

2

They were in a lab. An underground one. Leon had just gotten Ashley back, who hadn’t shut up since they got there.

Hell, she hadn’t shut up at all.

She was complaining about something he had said, something that was supposed to be a joke, but he supposed that didn’t matter to her. Scrap metal laid below them, on the ground glistening in the sunlight that leaked through the large opening above them… the one that they fell through. Leon was sure there was nothing else there, right?

Wrong.

He saw it as he observed their surroundings, laying there like some abandoned doll. Hair, as pale as it had been before. He felt himself go cold as his heart sped up. He cautiously approached the object

(or person)

in question, hoping that whatever

(or whoever)

it was hadn’t been laid there as a trap. As he grew closer, he realized that it, indeed, wasn’t a what… but a who. He couldn’t help but gasp in shock, unable to suppress what he had been feeling. He had been looking for her for seven years, and he found her… but…

She was as pale as she had been when he met her, but with more hints of grey in her complexion. Her mouth hung open, her lips looked like pale rose petals. He didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. She was smart, she knew what she was doing. She survived that hell only to be killed in the end. He bent down and placed his hand on her shoulder, allowing the cold flesh to come into contact with his own warm skin. She was dead alright… but for how long had she been dead?

It looked as if she had been killed recently; surely if she were killed in 1998 she would have decomposed by then, right? Everything was still intact. Her skin was flawless still, save for the puncture mark on her neck. Leon ran his hand over it, feeling the bump as if touching it would tell him what happened to her, but alas, nothing. She laid on piles of scrap metal, her body contorted in a beautiful way.

She laid with her head facing her left, her hair covering the lower part of her face and falling into her mouth. Her right arm was raised beside her head; her hand was curled into a loose fist, while the other laid over her midsection. Her legs were bent, both facing the left with one foot underneath the knee of the leg on top. She looked as if she were sleeping, but Leon knew that was far from the truth.

Why was she there? Who would have done this to her? Who could he turn to and trust enough to find him these answers?

“Leon!” Ashley screamed out, drawing his attention away from the corpse of the woman he once loved.

3

A man and woman watched a wall of screens, each with a different image being displayed. The woman’s head turned in the direction of one particular screen before leaning down to whisper something in the ear over her lover.

“That one.” She told him, her vivid green eyes glancing over at the far left of the room and pointing to the lower image. He brought the surveillance footage up and into the front, allowing it to overtake all the other screens. It showed Leon as he observed the corpse of Natalya, as he searched her for any signs of life. The woman giggled to herself, so quietly that her lover didn’t seem to notice. She watched, completely fascinated by what the man on screen was doing. He knew she was dead, right? She had been dead for years, but they knew. They knew that he was there, and they had dropped her preserved body onto the pile of trash for him to find, because he’d never know. Not like they did, at least. He’d never learn what had happened, he’d never know why they dropped her there to be found by him. He’d never understand why she had killed the spy herself.

“Looks like he’s found our present.” The man stated in his usual monotone. He laced his fingers together in front of him and continued to watch, also intrigued. He wondered what Leon would do. How would he react? Would he be able to piece this one together? Or, perhaps, he would be stuck wondering what happened for the rest of his life. It was a game to the duo; one created through jealousy and manipulation as well as their mutual love and respect… but this? This was different.

“He has…” She agreed. She then looked down at her lover and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

“I love you, you know.” She uttered in his ear. He turned his head slightly, facing the direction her voice was coming from.

“I’m aware.” He responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. She laughed and stood up straight.

“I’m going back to the labs, come down when you’re finished… and tell me what Mr. Kennedy does next.” Her lover nodded in agreement and she left promptly, allowing him to return to the screens.

4

“Thanks for saving me.” She said to him in a voice barely above a whisper. Leon smiled.

“It was no problem, really.” Ada, who was becoming impatient, turned around to face the two.

“Look, we have to hurry if we want to get out of here alive. Pretty soon there’ll be no hope for us.” She snapped. The two stared on in silence, eventually nodding in agreement and continuing on with their journey. However, Leon had some questions that needed answering.

“Was that the intel you needed?” He asked Ada. She didn’t look back when she spoke to him.

“Unfortunately no. Ben didn’t come through.” She told him. Leon processed what she had said before asking yet another question.

“Well, what exactly are you looking for?” He asked.

“More info on the people responsible for this mess.” She answered. Natalya froze in her tracks, suddenly remembering her mission. She was sure Ada knew as well, but she wasn’t going to say anything in front of Leon. Instead, she pushed past him to walk beside Ada, leaving him confused as he stood En garde.

Ada glanced at the platinum blonde out of the corner of her eye. She did, indeed, recognize the girl. She was informed that she would be sent over to exchange information. The girl would give her more insight on Umbrella, as promised, and Ada would tell her whatever she found.

She observed Natalya closely, noticing that she was a few years younger than herself. She walked with a certain confidence that not many girls her age would have. She was rather similar to Ada, in that respect. From a young age she had been confident in herself and oozed said confidence, and it showed even then… in the midst of a damn apocalypse.

Ada knew why Natalya had walked over, but she wasn’t ready to exchange just yet.

END FILE 2

[emybain]

Quarantine: Renegades Edition

so please don’t take this seriously. i honestly don’t remember writing half of it, but it be like that. this is simply a glimpse into the lives of Nova and Adrian during a global pandemic, aka snippets of the few months they’re in quarantine together. also, happy birthday to my girl nova. there’s a bonus/crack scene at the end that was inspired by tiktok, as well. i regret nothing (other than this poorly written fic)

ao3

“They’re saying this thing could spread into June, July, maybe even August,” Adrian said, relaxing back into the leather couch, pulling the laptop with him. Nova adjusted against him, pulling the blanket over her legs just a little higher as the AC powered on. 

“That’s if people keep being dumbasses,” Danna replied from behind the screen, leaning forward to rest her head in her palm. “It’s our job as citizens to prevent the spread of this disease. Why can’t people get that through their thick heads?”

Nova and Adrian were on a video call with the rest of their friends, who were all also quarantined in their homes. Nova had her own apartment, but at the very start of this outbreak—a new disease that was rapidly spreading around the world—she decided that quarantining by herself for an unknown amount of time wouldn’t be good for her mental health, so she packed up clothing and other essentials and headed over to the Everhart-Westwood residence. Not to mention that a mansion was vastly better than a one room apartment. Oh yeah, and she supposed being stuck with her boyfriend every day wasn’t so bad. 

“They’re being ignorant,” Nova chipped in. “People think that they’re immune, or that this virus is being blown out of proportion.”

“When they get sick, I’ll laugh.” Ruby popped a cracker in her mouth before the camera became blurry as she moved. She appeared to have shifted from lying on her back to her stomach from a spot on her bed. There was minimal background noise from her end, which was suspicious since she shared a room with two teenage boys. They must’ve been off playing video games, probably who Max was laughing with from his room upstairs. 

Narcissa poked her head out from behind a lengthy book from her place on Danna’s bed in the background of Danna’s screen.. Like Nova, she lived by herself, and would rather be with her significant other than be alone. “This isn’t the first time a pandemic has spread throughout the world. There was the European Virus fifty years ago, coronavirus back in the 21st century, the Spanish Flu in the 20th century, and so on and so forth.” She waved a hand in the air. “Hopefully, people will come to their senses. History always repeats itself, no matter how hard we may try to prevent it.”

“Thanks for the optimistic input, babe.” Danna rolled her eyes and cast a glance back at her girlfriend.

“It’s what I do,” Narcissa replied, returning her attention back to her book, but there was a smile on her face. 

“Well, maybe when things start to calm down a bit, we can all hang out. A picnic or in cars or something.” Oscar shrugged. “Six feet apart, of course. I’m not about to catch something from you nasty people.

“Did you just suggest a picnic?” Ruby snorted. “You might want to check your temperature. I think you’re getting sick.”

“You seem to forget all about the many picnics we’ve had.”

Ruby stuck her tongue out in response, then straightened a little and turned her head to the side. “What?” she yelled. After a moment, she turned back to the screen and groaned. “Ugh, I have to go. Mom’s making me bake with her again. Maybe this time we’ll try something besides bread or cookies.” She waved at them before she vanished from the meeting. 

At that moment, the front door clicked and opened, revealing Hugh and Simon, both carrying multiple grocery bags. 

“My dads just got home from the store. We should probably go help.” Adrian sat up, leaving Nova to fall a little in his direction as she had been leaning on him. 

“Hi Adrian’s Dads!” Oscar yelled, though they were already out of the room when he did so. Nonetheless, they both shouted back their greetings from the kitchen. 

“I should probably go, too. There’s this show I started bingeing and I finished the fifth season last night. I’m dying to know what happens after that cliffhanger.” Danna leaned back in her chair. 

“Oh, is it that one you were telling me about?” Nova raised her eyebrows. “Based off of that movie series?”

“Yes! And watch it so I can rant to you about it! I’m so pissed off at the main characters. They’re just...so stupid.”

With that, the remaining five waved and said their goodbyes. Adrian set the laptop down on the coffee table in front of them, and they both stood up. Nova stretched, her muscles tired from sitting for nearly an hour. 

In the kitchen, Hugh was unloading the bags while Simon busied himself with spraying the items with cleaner and wiping them down with a paper towel. A couple of weeks into quarantine and Nova and Adrian knew what to do. They got to work putting stuff away, with Nova on pantry duty and Adrian at the fridge. 

Although Nova hadn’t been out in public since the world went into quarantine, she could tell that the grocery stores and other places were beginning to recover from the initial shock of the pandemic. With each trip to the store, Adrian’s parents came back with more and more food and supplies. Hugh had even decided to buy a fridge to store out in the garage for extra food that didn’t fit inside. She found that to be a bit ridiculous, but it seemed to make him happy. What was it with men and having fridges out in their garages?

“Is Max upstairs?” Simon asked, pushing a milk jug toward Adrian. 

“Yeah. I think he’s playing video games.” Adrian shot Nova a look, and she repressed a smile; they both knew what was about to come. 

“Has he done any schoolwork since we left two hours ago? Or at least left his room?” 

“I think he left to use the bathroom about forty five minutes ago,” Nova said. She glanced at the knock-off brand of her favorite crackers in her hand and sighed, placing it on a shelf. The off-brand wasn’t bad, but it certainly wasn’t the same. It was the type of product that you had to buy name brand, as the imitations were just a waste of money. Alas, with the pandemic, she knew it was a fight to get the good products before anyone else. 

“He’ll get it done, Pops,” Adrian reassured. “He’s been doing fine the last couple of weeks. Just going at his own pace, is all.”

“I know.” A sigh escaped Simon’s mouth. “And I’m glad that he’s able to be a kid now, but being a kid includes doing your homework.”

Nova thought of the classes she was taking at a local university. She was doing her best to keep up with her online work, but as the weeks dragged on, she was losing motivation. “This quarantine is probably nothing for Max, remember? I’m sure he does his work whenever he wants to because he actually enjoys doing it.” She shrugged. “Better than sitting around surrounded by glass walls.” 

“You’re probably right,” Hugh added, washing his hands once the last of the groceries were out of the bags. “I’m not too worried about him, just as long as I get to see his face once a day.” He chuckled at his own words. Simon offered a smile in support. 

Once all the groceries were stored away, Nova and Adrian headed downstairs, taking the laptop with them. 

__________

Adrian stood from his seat, where he had previously already been on edge. 

“Nova, where are you going?” The glare he received was enough to scare off anyone else. He had seen this side of her before, though, and was unfazed. “It’s almost midnight,” he added, only increasing the glare.

“Anywhere but here.” Her eyes turned to Hugh, who crossed his arms in response. The two were arguing. Again. It was something that was new to their quarantine, having only surfaced about a week ago. They liked to argue over literally anything, from who got to have control over the remote to whether or not Nova should be a part of their daily “family walks” to the current state of the government and the involvement of the Renegades, who were no longer in charge but were still heavily tied into politics. Hell, even the weather wasn’t safe from their growing agitation with one another. Today, everything had been going fine, for once, until Hugh just had to bring up a curfew, as Nova liked to leave the house at odd hours. 

“This house is a fucking nightmare.” She gripped the keys to her motorcycle in her hand and turned to the door. From beside him, Adrian heard Max mutter something about irony under his breath. He too, despite entering the years of being a disagreeable teenager, was sick of the fighting. 

“Language, young lady,” Hugh said, warning laced in his tone. 

“Once again, you’re not my dad,” Nova gritted out. She opened the front door, revealing the darkness outside. “And you never will be.”

“Nova, what he’s asking isn’t completely unreasonable.” Simon ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re in our home for who knows how long, so as parents, you’re now our responsibility. Even when you’re not under our roof, you’re our responsibility. We just want you to be safe.”

“If you don’t want to follow our simple rules, then why are you even here? We’re paying for an apartment not two miles north from here, and you’re not even there. Instead you’re here, wasting our time and resources.” Even though the words weren’t directed at him, Adrian felt a chill go down his spine. 

Nova’s mouth opened, and she stared at Hugh blankly. Adrian could’ve sworn he saw her eyes welling up. “I’m here because I didn’t want to be alone. I’ve been alone my entire goddamn life, and I didn’t know if I could handle doing it again.” She swallowed, hand turning on the screen door. “But it’s not like I expect you to understand.” And then she was out the door. 

Adrian rushed forward, eyeing his dad coldly. “Seriously?”

“She’s out of line!” Hugh defended, although Adrian could see the regret in his features. 

Choosing not to answer him, Adrian shook his head and went outside. Nova was at the end of the driveway, sitting on her motorcycle and looking down at the ground. Adrian approached her slowly, making sure his steps were loud so that she knew he was there. 

“I don’t walk to talk about it.” She hid her face even more from him when he bent down. “You’re welcome to come with me, but I don’t want you to get in trouble for breaking curfew.” Her voice soured at the word. 

“I understand why you’re mad, but don’t avoid me because of it.” He lightly nudged her chin with his knuckles. 

“He’s just so...so…” she lifted her head up, running a hand through her hair in frustration as she tried to find the right words

“Stubborn? Controlling? Self righteous?”

“Yes.” She let out a laugh, though it was void of humor. “It’s just...who does he think he is? I’m an adult. Even if he was my father, he can’t control what I can and cannot do.”

“You seem to forget that I’ve had to live with him for years,” Adrian said dryly. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. “I’m an  adult, too, but that doesn’t matter because he pays the bills.”

Nova gave him a long look. “You really need your own place.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“But you get what I mean.” She looked down at their hands, turning them around to examine the back of his. “I’m not his kid. It’s different with you because you’re his son.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to keep you safe.” Her grip on him tightened, just slightly. Even though it had been a few years since the events surrounding the supernova, Nova still had trouble believing that her former enemies actually cared about her. It was hard to trust them when it had been ingrained in her from a young age that they were the bad guys. 

“I can take care of myself fine. I’ve been out in the middle of the night so many times I’ve lost count. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid.” 

Adrian sighed and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. There wouldn’t be any reasoning with her, at least not tonight. He had to let her cool down and return to the subject when she had a clearer mind. “At least come back inside? We can go play video games downstairs, or watch a movie, or do anything you want. I’m sure once you and Hugh are both calmed down, you can reach a compromise.” 

“But I don’t want a fucking com-”

“Or he’ll see things your way,” he tacked on quickly. Right. When she got like this, it had to be her way. It was funny, how she resented Hugh at times for his stubbornness, when she was equally as stubborn if not more so. This quarantine was really getting to all of them. Adrian couldn’t wait for the day life could go back to normal. 

“Adrian? Nova?” Adrian turned his head around to see Max, who was squinting at them through the dark, despite the outside lights being on. 

“What’s up, Max?” Nova shifted her body on the bike to face the teen. 

“Pops wants to know if you’re coming inside soon. He needs to set the alarm so he and Dad can go to bed.” Max paused, eyeing the bike. “Unless you’re going for a ride, then he’ll leave it off.”

Adrian waited for Nova to answer, as it was up to her. Nova ran her free hand over the bike, then sighed. 

“We’ll be in right behind you. I was just...checking some things on her.” All three knew she was lying, but Nova was still learning how to express her emotions in front of others. Even in front of Max, someone she got along with as well as she did with Adrian. 

“Alright.” Max turned to leave, then glanced back at her. “You know, things are rough right now, and I know it isn’t easy for everyone to be in isolation for so long, but,” he shrugged, “at least we’re together. I was able to make it in a quarantine for ten years with no one but myself and the doctors for company, so this is easy for me, but I know I’m probably the only person on this planet who thinks that way.” He let out a soft laugh. “I guess I’m just trying to say that I’m glad you’re here, and that I’m glad our family is quarantining together.” The smile he shot her was genuine. He turned back around and walked back to the house, where Adrian could see the outlines of his dads watching at the door. 

“Huh.” Adrian watched his brother go inside. “Just when you think he’s starting to learn how to be a proper kid-”

“-he goes and spouts shit like that?” Nova finished, shaking her head. Adrian could see the small smile on her face through the curls hiding her features. 

“Yeah.” Adrian squeezed her hand. “C’mon, let’s go back inside.”

“Okay.” 

__________

Nova placed the mixing bowl in the sink and turned on the faucet. She reached into a drawer and grabbed a towel, placing it under the running water. The kitchen was a mess, although she had seen it in worse states. At least the ingredients were all stored away so that she could get started on wiping down the counters. Hugh and Simon were at headquarters for the day, as their presence was required for something Nova didn’t care enough to know about, and they figured it would be best to work from there instead of coming home. And, according to Simon, them being out in public and at headquarters would be good for publicity. It had been a while since they stepped into work, seeing as even the Renegades had to obey social distancing orders. 

Point being, they were out of the house, so Nova could do whatever she wanted without questions being asked. And she had grown to appreciate baking during quarantine, among her long list of new and revisited hobbies. The Everhart-Westwoods always, to Nova’s surprise, had sweet tooths, so they never minded that Nova made a mess of their kitchen; it was just when Hugh or Simon entered the kitchen and started asking a bunch of questions that got on Nova’s nerves. Today, she could bake in peace. 

Or so she thought.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” She looked up at her boyfriend, who just entered the room. He peeked at the oven. “Cupcakes?”

“Muffins,” Nova corrected, setting the used towel next to the sink. There was dried paint on his forehead, as well as on his hands. She had to shake her head. How was it possible to get so dirty? Well, she should speak for herself and her flour-covered apron. 

“Oh, well, same thing.” He shrugged and grabbed a water glass from a cabinet. 

Nova blinked and reached for the remote, which was sitting beside her, and paused the show she was watching on the kitchen’s small TV. “No. No not really.”

Adrian chuckled and nudged her lightly as he passed her to the fridge. “Yeah, kind of. The only difference is cupcakes have frosting.”

Nova scoffed. “The only difference? They’re two completely different things. That’s like saying ice cream and gelato are the same.”

Adrian turned to face her, leaning against the fridge. He took a sip of his water. “Ice cream and gelato are the same. One’s just claimed by the Italians.” 

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Those aren’t the same, either, dumbass. Ice cream, clearly from its name, has more cream than gelato. And gelato’s more dense than ice cream. Those are just two differences.” She crossed her arms. “There are more.” 

“And? What does that have to do with muffins and cupcakes?” 

“Because they’re not the same.” Nova had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. And Adrian claimed he was a smart person. Yeah, maybe smart compared to sloths. “Muffins are considered a bread. Cupcakes are...well...cake. Two completely different recipes. You can’t just slap some frosting on a blueberry muffin and say it’s a cupcake. Maybe it looks like one, but the flavor and textures are way off.”

“They both are made the exact same way, babe. No difference.” With the way he was smirking, Nova had the thought that he could just be messing with her.

“Don’t ‘babe’ me.” She glared at him. “Fine. If you won’t believe me, the baker, then you don’t have to eat any of my muffins. Not cupcakes.” 

He groaned and reached for her, but she dove out of his reach. “Nova, don’t be like this. I’m sorry. They’re not the same, okay? Happy?”

“Not until you’re honest.” She checked the timer above the oven. “I’m going downstairs for a minute.” Pointing a finger at him, she added, “Don’t mess with them. I’ll know.”

“Admitting defeat?” he called at her back. 

“Hell no,” she tossed over her shoulder. “This conversation is far from over, buddy.”

She definitely heard him mutter rudely how he knew, but chose to ignore it. After all, she was the bigger person in the relationship. 

__________

Adrian turned into a parking spot and turned off the car. He glanced over at Nova, who was giving him a very pointed look.

“The park? What did you plan? A picnic?” That was, in fact, the plan, but only part of it. 

Leaning over, he planted a gentle kiss on her lips. It only softened the look a little. “You’ll see, nosey.” He unbuckled himself and opened the driver door. “Now, come on.”

She rolled her eyes, but got out as well. Seeing her in a pair of cutoff shorts and a simple t-shirt was refreshing, as she had been wearing sweats for the past two months, ever since the world was sent into quarantine. She and Adrian both had been dawning the same three pairs of pants and shirts for weeks now. But, this was the first time they both actually got out of the house, save for their daily walks or motorcycle/car rides, so it was only fitting to get dressed up for the occasion. And by dressed up he meant ditching the sweatpants. 

Also, it was Nova’s birthday. Adrian hated that she was being forced to spend it unceremoniously, when so many of her birthdays had gone practically unnoticed growing up with the Anarchists, so he took it upon himself as her boyfriend to do what he could for her. And that meant having a socially distanced picnic in the park with their friends, who they hadn’t seen in person in months. 

They walked down the sidewalk hand in hand, going into the grass whenever a biker or runner passed by them to maintain distance. Adrian almost wanted to pull his mask out from his pocket, but knew he was probably fine. Besides, if he put his mask on, Nova would follow, and he knew how much she hated wearing them, for obvious reasons. They were outside, and there were hardly any people in the park.

“You’re an idiot, Adrian Everhart,” Nova said once they could see their friends, but there was a smile on her face. They were all spread out on blankets, making a circle, and in the center sat an unoccupied blanket piled with food and gifts. 

“Hey, I can’t take all the credit.” He squeezed her hand, grinning down at her. 

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Oscar said, checking his watch. “We’ve been here for hours. We’re starving.” He stood and went to the middle to start making a plate. Adrian made a face at his back. He had specifically asked that they wait for Nova until they started eating in the group chat, so he guessed Oscar was holding his word. He waited, after all. 

“Twenty minutes,” Danna corrected from her spot beside Narcissa. She looked at them and rolled her eyes. “Happy Birthday, Nova.”

Everyone chorused in their ‘Happy Birthdays’ and Nova thanked them as she and Adrian sat down on the one remaining blanket. “You guys didn’t have to go and do this for me.” She turned her gaze specifically toward Adrian. He raised his hands in defense.

“Blame Oscar for putting the idea in my head. All he ever talks about when we video call is how bored he is.”

“That’s true.” Nova shook her head in amusement. “This is very sweet, but don’t expect me to cry or anything.”

“You cried on your seventeenth birthday, and that’s enough for us,” Ruby teased. 

“That was literally two years ago.” Nova ran a hand over her face. “It meant nothing.” 

“Mhm,” was Ruby’s response, but Adrian could tell she wasn’t convinced. None of them were, obviously.

Nova peered at the food pile. “Is that Mediterranean pizza I see?”

“Yeah, and it’s all yours,” Oscar clarified, passing a plate he made for Ruby to her before sitting down himself. “I still don’t understand how you like that. There’s not even meat on it!”

“There’s also cannoli’s.” Adrian stood to go make them both plates. He knew that cannoli’s were one of the few desserts she liked, probably because they weren’t that heavy. “Do you want one or two?” 

She pondered the question for a moment, then smiled at him. “Two.”

When he returned with their food, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“What was that for?” He handed her plate over.

“For being you, and for giving me the best birthdays ever.” She shifted her body to lean against him. “How’d you know I wanted to see everyone for my birthday, anyway?” 

“Because I know you.” He kissed her forehead. “Happy Birthday, Nova.”

__________

Bonus crack scene:

“I would like to thank everyone for joining me today,” Nova said, swirling the water in the wine glass she snatched from the cabinet. Since Hugh wouldn’t let her drink actual wine, this was the next best thing. She cleared her throat. “I took it upon myself to observe the members of this household over the course of a week and rate everyone on their performances.” She pointed to the pyramid of papers set up on the wall, held there by type. There were pictures of everyone in the household behind a white sheet of paper. Starting at the bottom on the left side was the worst member, and the one at the top was the best. Why she decided to do this, she had little clue, but she figured it would be an entertaining activity to spice up everyone’s day.

“Is that what this is? I thought it was something actually serious.” Hugh leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a smile on his lips. 

“It is serious.” She pointed her glass at him. The fast movement caused a bit of water to slosh over the side. “It has come to my attention that there are people in this household who have some improvement to work on if they want to move up next week.”

“If I’m not at the top, I’m breaking up with you,” Adrian joked, adjusting the glasses on his face. She narrowed her eyes at the camera he was pointing at her.

“I do not accept bribes.” Tearing off the first piece of paper, she began. There was a snicker, probably Max. “Hugh.” He immediately started protesting, but Nova silenced him. “No, no, no. You’re mean to me. Always looking to post up or some shit.”

“Language,” he warned, though his tone was light.

“Not to mention you don’t let me express my true self by cussing,” she added sharply. “Also, you tried to kill me three years ago and I’m sorry, but I just can’t forgive my haters like that. Try better next week, okay?”

“Hold on, wait a second.” Hugh held up a hand. “First of all, young lady, if you want to bring up the past, it goes both ways, but we’ve both changed for the be-”

“No comments at this time,” Nova interrupted. She ripped off the next sheet of paper. “Next up is Nova.” Laughter broke out in the room. Even she couldn’t help from smiling. “Not gonna lie, I held out hope for this one, but she’s got a lot of issues, if you know what I mean. Always picking an argument, refuses to participate in family activities, and is kind of just there. Doesn’t really do much of anything. The only reasons she’s above Hugh is because, for one, she’s far more attractive, and she bakes stuff for everyone.

“Adrian-”

“Oh, come on!”

“-you refused to cuddle with me yesterday and watch guilty pleasure movies because you said you were busy. You argued with me the other day on the validity of the Star Wars prequels and sequels.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “And you’re filming me without my consent. Other than those things, though,” she shrugged, “pretty cool boyfriend. You didn’t say anything when I stole one of your sweatshirts the other day, so that gets you some points.”

“Wait, the gray-”

“Max is next.” She tossed the white paper to the ground. “You never say anything mean to me, unlike some members in this household, but that could also be because you spend all day on video games. Because of that, I’m afraid you can’t be higher.”

“Hey, I’ll settle for third.” Max shrugged, grinning. 

“And that’s why I like you!” She nodded firmly. “In second place, we have Simon. Who doesn’t like Simon? You always have something nice to say, and on occasion, you’ll back me up in an argument because you’re an intellectual. I always enjoy our deep conversations, too. Truly a wonderful person.”

“Thank you, Nova. I enjoy our talks, as well.” Simon chuckled. He looked pretty pleased to be on top. 

“And that leaves us with,” she ripped off the last paper at the top, causing the room to erupt in laughter and clapping, “Obi Wan Kenobi. Truly an iconic and handsome man. Every time I watch Star Wars, he brings up my serotonin levels. Not just because he’s cute, but because he can land some sick burns.”

It was easy to say that, thanks to Adrian’s video, Nova started a trend all over the world.

[weyassinebentalb]

Gaza Conflict Stokes 'Identity Crisis' for Young American Jews

Dan Kleinman does not know quite how to feel.

As a child in the New York City borough of Brooklyn, he was taught to revere Israel as the protector of Jews everywhere, the “Jewish superman who would come out of the sky to save us” when things got bad, he said.

It was a refuge in his mind when white supremacists in Charlottesville, Virginia, chanted “Jews will not replace us,” or kids in college grabbed his shirt, mimicking a “South Park” episode to steal his “Jew gold.”

But his feelings have grown muddier as he has gotten older, especially now as he watches violence unfold in Israel and Gaza. His moral compass tells him to help the Palestinians, but he cannot shake an ingrained paranoia every time he hears someone make anti-Israel statements.

“It is an identity crisis,” Kleinman, 33, said. “Very small in comparison to what is happening in Gaza and the West Bank, but it is still something very strange and weird.”

As the violence escalates in the Middle East, turmoil of a different kind is growing across the Atlantic. Many young American Jews are confronting the region’s long-standing strife in a very different context, with very different pressures, from their parents’ and grandparents’ generations.

The Israel of their lifetime has been powerful, no longer appearing to some to be under constant existential threat. The violence comes after a year when mass protests across the United States have changed how many Americans see issues of racial and social justice. The pro-Palestinian position has become more common, with prominent progressive members of Congress offering impassioned speeches in defense of the Palestinians on the House floor. At the same time, reports of anti-Semitism are rising across the country.

Divides between some American Jews and Israel’s right-wing government have been growing for more than a decade, but under the Trump administration those fractures that many hoped would heal became a crevasse. Politics in Israel have also remained fraught, as Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s long-tenured government forged allegiances with Washington. For young people who came of age during the Trump years, political polarization over the issue only deepened.

Many Jews in America remain unreservedly supportive of Israel and its government. Still, the events of recent weeks have left some families struggling to navigate both the crisis abroad and the wide-ranging response from American Jews at home. What is at stake is not just geopolitical, but deeply personal. Fractures are intensifying along lines of age, observance and partisan affiliation.

In suburban Livingston, New Jersey, Meara Ashtivker, 38, has been afraid for her father-in-law in Israel, who has a disability and is not able to rush to the stairwell to shelter when he hears the air-raid sirens. She is also scared as she sees people in her progressive circles suddenly seem anti-Israel and anti-Jewish, she said.

Ashtivker, whose husband is Israeli, said she loved and supported Israel, even when she did not always agree with the government and its actions.

“It’s really hard being an American Jew right now,” she said. “It is exhausting and scary.”

Some young, liberal Jewish activists have found common cause with Black Lives Matter, which explicitly advocates for Palestinian liberation, concerning others who see that allegiance as anti-Semitic.

The recent turmoil is the first major outbreak of violence in Israel and Gaza for which Aviva Davis, who graduated this spring from Brandeis University, has been “socially conscious.”

“I’m on a search for the truth, but what’s the truth when everyone has a different way of looking at things?” Davis said.

Alyssa Rubin, 26, who volunteers in Boston with IfNotNow, a network of Jewish activists who want to end Jewish American support for Israeli occupation, has found protesting for the Palestinian cause to be its own form of religious observance.

She said she and her 89-year-old grandfather ultimately both want the same thing, Jewish safety. But “he is really entrenched in this narrative that the only way we can be safe is by having a country,” she said, while her generation has seen that “the inequality has become more exacerbated.”

In the protest movements last summer, “a whole new wave of people were really primed to see the connection and understand racism more explicitly,” she said, “understanding the ways racism plays out here, and then looking at Israel/Palestine and realizing it is the exact same system.”

But that comparison is exactly what worries many other American Jews, who say the history of white American slaveholders is not the correct frame for viewing the Israeli government or the global Jewish experience of oppression.

At Temple Concord, a Reform synagogue in Syracuse, New York, teenager after teenager started calling Rabbi Daniel Fellman last week, wondering how to process seeing Black Lives Matter activists they marched with last summer attack Israel as “an apartheid state.”

“The reaction today is different because of what has occurred with the past year, year and a half, here,” Fellman said. “As a Jewish community, we are looking at it through slightly different eyes.”

Nearby at Sha’arei Torah Orthodox Congregation of Syracuse, teenagers were reflecting on their visits to Israel and on their family in the region.

“They see it as Hamas being a terrorist organization that is shooting missiles onto civilian areas,” Rabbi Evan Shore said. “They can’t understand why the world seems to be supporting terrorism over Israel.”

In Colorado, a high school senior at Denver Jewish Day School said he was frustrated at the lack of nuance in the public conversation. When his social media apps filled with pro-Palestinian memes last week, slogans like “From the river to the sea” and “Zionism is a call for an apartheid state,” he deactivated his accounts.

“The conversation is so unproductive, and so aggressive, that it really stresses you out,” Jonas Rosenthal, 18, said. “I don’t think that using that message is helpful for convincing the Israelis to stop bombing Gaza.”

Compared with their elders, younger American Jews are overrepresented on the ends of the religious affiliation spectrum: a higher share are secular, and a higher share are Orthodox.

Ari Hart, 39, an Orthodox rabbi in Skokie, Illinois, has accepted the fact that his Zionism makes him unwelcome in some activist spaces where he would otherwise be comfortable. College students in his congregation are awakening to that same tension, he said. “You go to a college campus and want to get involved in anti-racism or social justice work, but if you support the state of Israel, you’re the problem,” he said.

Hart sees increasing skepticism in liberal Jewish circles over Israel’s right to exist. “This is a generation who are very moved and inspired by social justice causes and want to be on the right side of justice,” Hart said. “But they’re falling into overly simplistic narratives, and narratives driven by true enemies of the Jewish people.”

Overall, younger American Jews are less attached to Israel than older generations: About half of Jewish adults under 30 describe themselves as emotionally connected to Israel, compared with about two-thirds of Jews over age 64, according to a major survey published last week by the Pew Research Center.

And though the U.S. Jewish population is 92% white, with all other races combined accounting for 8%, among Jews ages 18 to 29 that rises to 15%.

In Los Angeles, Rachel Sumekh, 29, a first-generation Iranian American Jew, sees complicated layers in the story of her own Persian family. Her mother escaped Iran on the back of a camel, traveling by night until she got to Pakistan, where she was taken in as a refugee. She then found asylum in Israel. She believes Israel has a right to self-determination, but she also found it “horrifying” to hear an Israeli ambassador suggest other Arab countries should take in Palestinians.

“That is what happened to my people and created this intergenerational trauma of losing our homeland because of hatred,” she said.

The entire situation feels too volatile and dangerous for many people to even want to discuss, especially publicly.

Violence against Jews is increasingly close to home. Last year the third-highest number of anti-Semitic incidents in the United States were recorded since the Anti-Defamation League began cataloging them in 1979, according to a report released by the civil rights group last month. The ADL recorded more than 1,200 incidents of anti-Semitic harassment in 2020, a 10% increase from the previous year. In Los Angeles, the police are investigating a sprawling attack on sidewalk diners at a sushi restaurant Tuesday as an anti-Semitic hate crime.

Outside Cleveland, Jennifer Kaplan, 39, who grew up in a modern Orthodox family and who considers herself a centrist Democrat and a Zionist, remembered studying abroad at Hebrew University in 2002, and being in the cafeteria minutes before it was bombed. Now she wondered how the Trump era had affected her inclination to see the humanity in others, and she wished her young children were a bit older so she could talk with them about what is happening.

“I want them to understand that this is a really complicated situation, and they should question things,” she said. “I want them to understand that this isn’t just a, I don’t know, I guess, utopia of Jewish religion.”

Esther Katz, the performing arts director at the Jewish Community Center in Omaha, Nebraska, has spent significant time in Israel. She also attended Black Lives Matter protests in Omaha last summer and has signs supporting the movement in the windows of her home.

She has watched with a sense of betrayal as some of her allies in that movement have posted online about their apparently unequivocal support for the Palestinians, and compared Israel to Nazi Germany. “I’ve had some really tough conversations,” said Katz, a Conservative Jew. “They’re not seeing the facts, they’re just reading the propaganda.”

Her three children, who range in age from 7 to 13, are now wary of a country that is for Katz one of the most important places in the world. “They’re like, ‘I don’t understand why anyone would want to live in Israel, or even visit,’” she said. “That breaks my heart.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

© 2021 The New York Times Company 

source https://www.techno-90.com/2021/05/gaza-conflict-stokes-identity-crisis.html

[lilquill]

Are you doing okay what with all the VV stuff that happened? It seemed like you and Mina were close

Hey hey, thanks for the worries anon! Mina of mvcreates/Violet Vineyard and I were properly talking as friends for only a few months quite a long time ago. Emotionally I’m completely fine, but I do have stuff to say and I do want to help document things if any of it is useful in any way. A lot of it will be dry because it’s just documenting, but some of it will be “juicier” I guess, and I’d like to corroborate some of the things my friends are saying. I’ll put this under the cut for people who don’t want to scroll through all this and/or have no idea what I’m talking about and want to keep it that way!

You guys can check @nuwuhorizons‘s blog to see what exactly is going on and I believe they’re also reblogging some things others who were members are saying. The case of people dogpiling a 19-year-old trans person and making fun of their name is on the blog (post here, wayback machined here).

I can corroborate a bunch of what @rrrawrf-writes (post here, wayback machined here) and @gingerly-writing (post here, wayback machined here) have said. I backread through the interaction that Ginger talks about in her post (of course not the DMs, but the interaction itself).

I know some people may be confused about why Ginger only has that one screenshot of what she said and may not see that as full evidence, but Violet Vineyard had a super strict “don’t screenshot and post anything” with lots of scary looking legal stuff attached to it policy and, well, Ginger can’t be sharing stuff without anyone’s permission if it’s just the message she herself sent, but they’d have grounds to take god knows what action with what backing against her if she posted something else. But, well, for what it’s worth, as someone who read through that conversation a little after it happened, it was certainly a case of dogpiling and left a bad taste in my mouth, and it strikes me as really odd that the mods would try to shut someone down like that.

I haven’t really been doing stuff in writeblr lately as you can probably tell from my blog, but yeah, Mina herself and a lot of people in that particular friend group of hers, as Lisa mentions, have just disappeared off Tumblr. I can also attest to the dogpiling tendencies and this Mina Is Always Right tendency, and the fervor with which people would defend her.

I was honestly never close enough to Mina to be in that friend group. She and I were only really talking to each other for a few months over a year ago. I don’t think I was “writeblr-y” enough to fit in with them. I was also not super active in that server. I didn’t post much about my wips because I in general don’t think I really post a lot about them. Therefore I didn’t get like, massive benefits off of the whole “network” thing, but  I’d reblog some stuff when I saw it. I was probably most known for posting pictures of my plants, lol. And I would occasionally hop in to talk briefly about kpop with like, one person? (They went by Kay and their url was like, lvcrezia? lvcrezias? Something like that.) In fact, probably the last thing I ever said in that server was a super quick conversation about Red Velvet’s “Monster” music video around the time it dropped.

In fact, for the sake of being super transparent/establishing credibility, and for documenting purposes, I’ll list all the non-plant-pictures and non-kpop conversations I can remember actually participating in. Some of these will lead off into bigger topics, and I’ll specify those. But first, a word.

TO ANY OF THE FORMER MODS WHO MIGHT COME AFTER ME FOR SAYING THINGS ABOUT THE SERVER, SINCE THIS HAS APPARENTLY HAPPENED TO OTHERS: The server is deleted, and so is the text of the whole “contract” (yes, really) that people had to agree to in order to join VV. I remember that the agreement made sure we didn’t post screenshots publicly, but other than that I genuinely do not remember the text and I have no way of referencing it to keep in line with it since the server is deleted. I do not remember if documenting things like this is against anything I have agreed to, I have no record of the agreement, and I have not been notified of any place to access a record of the agreement before the server was deleted. If my post is some sort of violation, you cannot hold me accountable for rules that I am unable to follow, and I would greatly appreciate not being targeted with empty threats shrouded in scary legal language. If you have any point of contention with what I have said, feel free to take it up either publicly or privately. Please do @ me if it’s specific to me; I’m not really the vagueposting kind. If any of you want me to delete this post, you will need to provide actual proof of the agreement that I made by joining Violet Vineyard, and you will also need to prove that the rules were not edited after I agreed to them. If any of them were follow-up rules not from the beginning of the server, it’s possible that I did not see them and therefore you need to provide proof that I agreed to those, too. In addition, since image editing is what set off this avalanche in the first place hence we’re all aware that there’s software that allows us to edit images and pass them off as an original thing, you’ll need to provide proof that any screenshots/images are undoctored. Furthermore, since the rules have been deleted with the server, as the method I used to agree to follow them, you must prove that my agreement is still valid, since it seems to me it’s been nullified since it’s, well, gone either through deletion or kicking me out alongside everyone else. Tl;dr you don’t scare me lol.

Anyways, back to a list of the non-kpop, non-plant-pics, non-my-wips-promo conversations I can actually remember:

On January 5, 2020, the server had a conversation about Roshani Chokshi’s book The Gilded Wolves. I can give the date because during/in the aftermath of the conversation, which I talked about the book in, Mina DMed me quickly. (This was also the last time Mina ever directly contacted me.) I’ll talk about this later.

In February 2020 I believe I quickly mentioned getting concert tickets.

Either early this year or late last year I think I posted some stuff about landscape photography, with some photos of the beach.

I believe I posted a couple fashion pics at some point?

Back in May 2019 I got some kinda weird asks about Violet Vineyard and I think people were talking about that, and I assume I participated since I was the one who received the asks. At that time VV was like a super new server and didn’t really have much as far as the issues we’ve been talking about go, so I defended it. (I’ll be talking about this later.)

Probably in June/July 2019 people in the server had a discussion about Black Muslim characters and representation, initiated by me for one of my WIPs.

I think we talked about South Asian sweets at some point???

I believe in April/May 2019, there was some stuff in that server reagarding “drama” with Castor who at that time went by the url pilipalea that I honestly don’t remember much of. Castor was never in VV, but I believe they were in a server with Mina at some other point. There was something about grammar and proofreading?? (I’ll be referencing this soon as well.)

I helped someone with their computer science homework at some point.

I asked for r&b music recs at some point either late 2019 or earlier 2020.

I’ve also talked about ethnic clothes I think.

We’ve talked about Hindu nationalism and how awful it is.

I think we’ve talked about tone policing and how woc are often portrayed as “aggressive.”

We’ve talked about health/fitness and exercise.

I recommended Jade City and some other books I’m a fan of in there.

Probably talked about Bollywood movies at some point.

The fact that I can remember probably most of my conversations that lasted more than like, one message in there is, I think, a pretty good testament to a) me having at least a kind of decent memory and b) I wasn’t participating in the server so regularly that the conversations kind of blend together. I know this is all kind of long and dry for anyone who’s here for drama purposes lol, but I did want to establish that I’ve been in that server for quite a while and that I wasn’t monitoring it heavily; in fact, I had it muted very soon after joining it.

I wasn’t super close to anyone that I’d met through VV. People who are friends that I still regularly contact who were in VV with me, I had met through other servers and other interactions on Tumblr. I’ll disclose right now that I have been longtime friends with Ginger, Lisa, and Eff (@time-to-write-and-suffer), who have all come out against VV, and that we are in our own servers with people from writeblr. Ginger and Lisa were both in VV, Eff has never been.

Okay, back to maybe “juicier” stuff.

Mina had always positioned herself almost as this “tumblr mom” type. She’d reference her age a lot, which would contrast a lot with how a significant portion of the members were much younger and, I think, set up the dynamic of people looking up a lot to her and always coming to her defense. After all, we’re talking a bunch of passionate kids who’d found a writeblr network. And the server definitely seemed “legit”; I myself was pretty impressed with just how tightly organized everything was, and like I mentioned, there was fancy legal language to ~protect their rights~ and whatnot. Mina herself seemed so accomplished with so many talents: she’d post her writing and artwork, I believe she’d made a couple pieces of music, she’d work out and keep in shape, she had a seemingly wonderful loving relationship with her husband, she was active in research fields professionally and as an outbreak responder, and she, of course, had a significant online presence as a “big writeblr.” I remember when she’d started blowing up, so soon after her blog had been created, because of her prolific content and friendly persona. People, especially younger ones who had no other writeblr support group, looked up to her and trusted her. And the nature of the server was to shower everyone in praise, so Mina found herself on the receiving end of quite a bit of it. Mina would also actively boost and review other writers’ content, genuinely engaging with it and providing feedback, support, and valuable resources.

Mina also had a tight-knit group of adult friends. Some of them I believe carried over from pre-VV times (incuding CJ of typewriter-jade if I’m remembering correctly, who made fun of the trans person’s name in the reblog chain in the link to nuwuhorizons’s blog), while some were made afterwards. They would act super friendly and familiar with each other, which I think contributed to a lot of people falling into this little “friendship” super fast. They were also authority figures and role models, and tended to agree with each other, so everyone just went along with that.

These factors, I think, heavily influenced the dogpiling tendencies. People were eager to defend their community, where they’d found so much love and support for their work. Minors would go along with adults in conversations. When someone said something, others would enthusiastically support them. And people were just so into each other that I really couldn’t keep up, which is probably why I didn’t participate too much. People became just super fast friends and the server was so large and so seemingly “professional” and structured in how it was made. I think people just kind of assumed everyone in there was great and their friend who could be trusted deeply, when in reality that’s just impossible if there are like, 100+ members. Meaning if something minorly negative happened (like on that literal eleven-year-old’s blog), everyone would come in to say something to demonstrate their emphatic loyalty, even when it became excessive for something as small as an ask game done wrong.

This happened with the Gilded Wolves discussion as well. Someone stepped in to say that the way Gilded Wolves coded its antagonists as this shady secret society of people was antisemitic, and everyone joined in to rip the book apart without having even read it. I joined in the conversation to state that I didn’t see it that way, since that shady antagonist group was very much coded as white Christians (their names are all French Christian names) and were colonizers (meaning making them this shadowy group of powerful and evil people was accurate) and one of the protagonists, who is Jewish, is opposing them and antisemitism is portrayed as horrible, and that the book had had (if I’m remembering correctly) Jewish sensitivity readers and multiple Jewish book reviewers really enjoyed and recommended it. Then Mina stepped in to say that multiple Jewish journals she followed rated the book highly and recommended it meaning the accusation of antisemitism clashed heavily with what a lot of other people thought, and that since me and the other person who was saying the book was antisemitic were the only ones who had read it or were familiar with it in any capacity, it wasn’t fair for everyone to be judging it like that. It was like she’d flipped a switch: people were suddenly much more “reasonable” and “fair” and willing to give the book a chance, just because she’d stepped in. (As a quick note, I don’t remember exactly whether Mina stepped in first or if I stated my opinion first. I also want to mention that Mina DMed me to state that the person who accused the book of antisemitism had expressed some Zionist sentiments in the past and to say that maybe their take on the book could have come from Islamophobia with them maybe assuming obviously ethnic name of the author was a Muslim name. The Zioinist stuff is something I can’t actually speak on since again, I have no access to the server anymore and I don’t remember that person’s url. This was the last time Mina DMed me or I her.)

I wrote all that out because I think it illustrates a few things. Firstly, a good example of the tendencies of people going with the flow of things even when it led to dogpiling/drastic conclusions. When I say they were really trashing that book, I mean it! Secondly, it demonstrates the willingness of everyone to go along with what Mina said. Third, it shows that Mina was capable of stepping in to prevent dogpiling (and, seemingly, she would, at least if her beliefs aligned with the opposite of whatever incited the dogpiling) and that people would listen to her and actually change their minds. 

Whether or not Mina supported something was pretty important. Of course, it was her server, so she was definitely allowed to run it how she saw fit, but she would very swiftly pass judgement on things and everyone would just comply. One time, I think there were more than one different threads of conversation happening in the general channel of the server. Jess suggested making a second general channel to allow for other conversations, as is common in a lot of servers, including ones I’m in and moderate/own/have some power in. I don’t remember if I supported that suggestion or if I only backread that conversation, but I know at least one other person agreed. Mina said that as an older person (she’d very frequently bring up her age) she thought people could just wait for their turn in a conversation and didn’t even consider trying it out. Other mods, I believe, backed her up and said no to the second general conversation channel. I remember being a little confused as to why nobody even considered trying a member’s suggestion to make the server more easy to participate it and help provide additional structure/support how big it was, and why it was shut down because people could just wait for their turn, when clearly the general channel was getting overloaded before our eyes. But Mina didn’t see the need, so therefore nobody else wanted to do anything about it, and nobody ever mentioned it again, I think. I know this is a super minor instance lol, but I do think it illustrates something about the behavior in the server and how it was run. It’s not like other channels weren’t added based on need; one was created for the 2018 elections, one was created for talking about race in June during the height of BLM protests having news coverage, I’m pretty sure one was created for talking about the coronavirus. So, the mods were watching conversations and responding as they saw fit, they just wouldn’t field this request, for some reason. Obviously conversations getting muddled in a general channel isn’t as significant as major political events, antiblack racism, or a pandemic, but these channels were made to improve the server experience and likely to prevent these topics from completely overloading other channels, so, well.

Okay, the Castor/pilipalea stuff and dogpiling. I’ll say this stuff now because Castor has opened up about it (here [wayback machined] and here [archived in a google doc]), so I see that as permission for others to comment on it. If I’m remembering correctly and looking back at the right things, there was something about Mina giving advice on a grammatical error to one of her mutuals, or something asking if her mutuals wanted grammatical advice? Castor vagueblogged, presumably about that, and talked about classism in expecting good grammar from people, which is a valid issue, but seemed misapplied to this instance of someone consenting to receive advice on grammar/syntax/mechanics, if that’s what the vagueblogging was about. I reached out to Mina to let her know that I thought someone was vagueblogging about her, and she told me about past conflicts with Castor. I also reached out to Castor over DMs to ask what the vagueblogging was about, because you genuinely never know; classist prescriptivism is harmful and bad, and so many people on Tumblr are in so many different circles that similar topics may come up coincidentally. Castor wasn’t clear with me either about what the post was targeting and skirted around naming names.  

At this point, looking back, it still seems to be that it was about Mina, especially considering that Castor had previous history with her and others in her circle. Mina was irritated by the vagueblogging (who likes being vagueblogged about?) and also informed me, all the way back in April 2019, about this past server drama that Castor mentioned. It seems to me that it stemmed from a misunderstanding: Mina and I believe other mods noticed another person using Castor’s PSDs without credit. Mina checked with Castor about whether people should be crediting them for PSDs and Castor said that, yes, they wanted credit; you can see this interaction in the screenshot Castor linked on their post. 

This is where the accounts of what happened diverge: Mina expressed to me that she and the other mods weren’t very harsh since they’d seen that Castor’s friend had credited Castor in the past, so they just wanted to remind Castor’s friend to give credit, without knowing that Castor’s friend had permission to use the PSDs without crediting. I was told that Mina and the team of mods were professional in their handling of this; Castor has stated in their post that the group was extremely harsh. Since I don’t have any screenshots or exact records of what they said before I was in contact with Mina, I can’t comment, so I’ll withhold judgement on that. According to Mina, she and the other mods had not been very vocal about this crediting/PSD stuff, and very few people knew about it, so it did seem like Castor had attacked Mina out of nowhere.

What I can say is that the VV members were certainly quick to respond to the grammar vagueblog, and that if I’m remembering correctly, readily jumped to Mina’s defense. I distinctly remember that one VV member specifically asked whether it was about Mina in a reblog. This happened pretty early on in VV’s existence and I believe was the first major “drama” that VV got embroiled in. Looking back, I do think it was fair to be critical of Castor’s post. But this was also the first look at the tendencies people had of getting embroiled in the fervor of any perceived slight against a member (in particular Mina).

I noticed this again when I received anons that were sort of bitter about VV’s existence in May 2019, way before VV had gained the reputation that it has now. People were very quick to respond with hostility and slightly amplify the anger expressed by other members, and little by little things got really out of hand. I can totally understand being upset and irritated, since the asks were kind of unwarranted and the sender did apologize if I remember correctly. But there was a huge outpouring of vicious language from a lot of the members, and this was, I think, the first instance of proper dogpiling in VV, especially since it was an easy antagonist; the sender was out of line, and they were totally anonymous.

These were the only two instances of going to bat for VV that I ever participated in. For the other things, I either only backread or missed them completely. While they don’t really paint VV in a super bad light, not like the dogpiling of an eleven-year-old that Jess mentions in her post, it did give me a pretty good idea of how VV handled controversies.

I’ve mentioned some of my theories of why this dogpiling/toxicity happened. I’d also like to add that Mina would often send concise, decisively-worded statements about things. I think this may have come across as final-word judgments to a lot of people, so they would take that as the last say on a certain matter and escalate in severity of their response from there. And like, you should trust your friends and take what they say in good faith. But you still need to be thinking critically and considering your response, especially when you haven’t known someone for very long. And this, I think, was a big source of toxicity in the server. There were just so many people responding to the same issues and aligning their beliefs, and they’d build off each other and create an environment where these kinds of responses were okay. Plus, VV was always portrayed as a tight-knit family when not everyone knew each other and not everyone was active (as is totally normal for a massive server), so this also contributed to people wanting to defend each other all the time. And I don’t think the mod team did an adequate job of shutting it down, despite the veneer of a structured, sort of more “professional” space.

Okay, now onto the art stuff.

Disclaimer, I don’t draw digital or physical art. I was always aware that Mina was certainly at least using references for her work. In some cases I could even pinpoint which pictures were used, like one where the faceclaim was Ranveer Singh. I also received fanart of one of my characters that, of course, looked very similar to the faceclaim. It certainly was clear some tracing had happened in that picture because of the level of detail in the chikankari embroidery, but like…..it’s free fanart, chikankari isn’t copyrighted, and that embroidery is super difficult to draw anyways. What I was not aware of was Mina apparently tracing images and using them to advertise for commissions, which is something I do not condone. I also know my photography and photo editing tools, so I was aware that there was some filtering/editing going on. I’m not sure if Mina traced and didn’t disclose it for commissioned art.

Okay, now the server shutting down stuff!

I was completely unaware of the dogpiling/transphobia stuff happening in the server because I had it on mute. I only found out about all this two days ago. I received the message where everyone was @’ed about VV’s “migration” off Tumblr and that the server would be shut down. I can confirm that the concern was about mirror sites and that the server did discuss these mirror sites as a big intellectual property issue. I didn’t know people wanted the server shutting down to be kept so secret, and I honestly cannot think of a reason why; I feel like if those mirror site concerns were serious, people would be trying to spread the word on writeblr? So I think that people are right to be a little suspicious of the exact reason for the server’s closing.

I think I should mention also that people were pretty much always friendly with me on VV. I met a bunch of cool people, and Mina was always kind and supportive with me. @radley-writes has echoed similar sentiments here (wayback machined here) and here (wayback machined here) while being critical of the environment in VV.

I know this post is like, wildly long and probably quite dry and rambly at points, but I hope it does provide some specific examples to back up some of the criticisms of VV and document it a bit better.

Thank you for reading! I’ll make sure to edit this to add stuff if I remember things/see the need.

I also want to state that my post is more a critique of the environment than anything. I’m not trying to attack anyone at all, I’m just giving an account of stuff that has happened, my level of involvement, and my own thoughts on all this.

I also want to say that I am completely open to hearing what any of you have to say. Feel free to critique/discuss anything I’ve said in this post with me. If you want to vent about your experiences in/with Violet Vineyard, my inbox and DMs are totally open. If you want to keep things confidential, I won’t break your trust or reveal your identity (unless you start idk, spouting racist stuff at me or something). If you want to anonymously tell people about an experience, feel free to shoot me an anon.

I hope you’re all having a wonderful day! I’m sending you lots of love. Take care! <3

[teatimeatwinterpalace]

Hello ! Can you tell me about Charles I, King of England? I am curious about this king. Thank you :)

Sigh, my problematic fave... Charlie boy got greedy and forgot he ruled England not France lmao. 

No but no shade, of course it is more complicated than that. Charles is a very controversial figure. A number of Protestant historians have condemn him and his reign. He is often depicted as cold, indecisive, or even as a tyrant. Even though there is a certain truth in each of this qualifying adjectives, I tend to agree with historians who have written a more nuanced portrait of Charles without erasing the shaddy things he did because he did cross the line of legality. I like this quote from Katie Whitaker : "Charles was the last medieval king in Britain, a man imbued with all the ideals of chilvary, who believed he was appointed by God to rule." And here lies the tragedy. His reign was a defining moment where two conceptions of power came into collision : the divine prerogatives of the King against the privileges of Parliament.

Charles as a child had a weak constitution, some historians stated he was suffering from rickets. At some point, he conquered this physical infirmity however his speech came slowly and with difficulty and until his death he had a stutter. He spent his childhood in the shadow of his strong and radiant older brother, Henry, who he loved dearly. When Henry died in 1608, Charles was eleven, he had an excellent education, he studied French, Latin, Spanish, Italian, Greek, theology, drawing, dancing, fencing... His father, James I, was very much interested in the education of his children and one of the first letter Charles wrote to his father was :  "Sweete, Sweete Father, I learne to decline substantives and adjectives, give me your blessing, I thank you for my best man, your loving sone York". In his late teens he spent more and more time with his father even though he despised his "decadent" Court. He was religiously devot and of a strong moral stance which reflected in his Court when he was king. The guiding principles was order and decorum. Contrary to his father, he was also eager to play the role of an international statesman, which made his situation with Parliament even worse. However, he lacked confidence which caused him to be influenced by the ideas of the people he most trusted: Buckingham, his father... James could read the room, Charles unfortunately not so much. After James' passing, he started taking some of his father views to an extreme. However, it's important to note that when he came to power in 1625 the situation was already tense :

His father had a patriachal view of the monarchy. He wrote political treatises exposing his own views on the divine right of kings, stating :"‘Kings are justly called gods for that they exercise a manner or resemblance of divine power on earth". This kind of discourse didn't sit well with the House of Commons which was already sensitive on the matter of its rights and privileges. Parliament thought it had a traditional right to interfere with the policy of the realm. And so the political atmosphere soured quickly between both parties. For instance, when Parliament tried to meddle with the Spanish marriage negociations (between Charles and the Infanta of Spain) James was furious.

Parliament had considerable leverage : was the one holding the purse strings. This proved to be a thorn in the side of EVERY Stuarts rulers and it’s why throughout out the 17th century, England was shy with its foreign policy. Unlike the French King who was doing whatever he wanted, the English monarch had to beg subsidies to Parliament. Schematically, here was the usual scenario : 

King opens a new Parliamentary session because he needs moneeey, the House of Commons says maaay be but before we reeeally need to discuss something else *push his own agenda*, *criticise the royal policy* (rumor has it that you can still hear the king muttering not agaaain), thus ensues many excruciating negotiations and conflicts which usually ends up with the king saying fuck you and either proroguing or dissoluting his Parliament (this hot mess found its peak during the Exclusion Crisis, was a real soap opera lol). 

Again, it is schematical because even in the House of Commons some MPs were content with James' patriachal views. Anyway, at the core, it was truly a battle between royal prerogative and privilege!

THEN, you add the very sensitive matter of religion, its impact on politics was huge.

There were the Anglicans and Presbyterians which didn't see eye to eye. Yet compromises were made which made coexistence bearable for some while others fled to Europe or in the colonies in order to set up their own independent churches. James had hoped to bring the two Churches together and to create uniformity across the two kingdoms (Scotland & England). He tried to establish a Prayer Book similar to that used in England but faced with great opposition, he withdrew. (but guess who tried to follow daddy’s steps but didn’t withdrew?)

And last but not least... who the English despised the most above all? The followers of this boy right here...

... CATHOLICS, satan's minions on earth. 

With the outbreak of the Thirty Years War in Europe the fear of Catholicism was very much alive. Charles and Buckingham pushed James to summoned Parliament to ask for money to finance a war with Spain. The very much anti-Catholic Parliament agreed to the subsidies but unfortunately the expedition failed. James died, and Charles at the age of 24 had to deal with the consequenses. 

Relations between King and Parliament deteriorated quickly. There were the matter of war + Buckingham had negotiated a marriage for Charles to Henrietta Maria, the sister of the French King, promising that she would be permitted to practise her own Catholic religion, and that English ships would help to suppress a French Protestant rebellion in La Rochelle. Obviously, Parliament was furious especially towards Buckingham and Charles was forced to dissolve Parliament. For the King it was a direct challenge to his right to appoint his advisers and to govern. The Privy Council started to consider ways of raising money without the help of Parliament : forced loan, ship money... let's say that from here it started to go downhill.

For the matter of religion, unfortunately the caution of James I was replaced by Charles' desire for uniformity. Moreover, the King was interested by the Arminian group which was an alternative to the rigid Calvinism : the emphasis was on ritual and sacraments and they rejected the doctrine of predestination. Howerver, for many English, this group had too much ties with Catholicism. Also, some of them were great supporters of a heightened royal power which freaked out a lot of people who feared a sort of takeover. Of course, as often with fears and phobias, it was out of proportion with reality. Nonetheless, for many, Arminian meant : Catholicism +  absolute monarchy = tyranny. When William Laud (the Arminian leader) became Bishop of London in 1628, another stormy Parliament session took place. Charles decided to prorogue it but the Commons refused and they passed the Three Resolutions which condemned the collection of tonnage and poundage that Charles was doing without their consent as well as the doctrine and practice of Arminianism. Charles dissolved the Parliament and proclaimed he intended to govern without the Parliament until it calms the fuck down. This proved to be a significant breakdown within the system of government and the situation got a whole lot worse.

It's already a lot right? BUT HANG ON because in this very healthy anti-Catholicism atmosphere who Charles married? A FRENCH CATHOLIC PRINCESS. It made the crown more vulnerable and perhaps a lot of things would have been different if she had been Protestant but damn they were good together!!! The romance of Charles and Henrietta Maria is one of the greatest love stories in history. At first one could say it was a mismatched couple : a Protestant King with a Catholic Princess. Their differences and lack of understanding made their earlier years together complicated and turbulent. There were lot of quarrels and yet, they fell passionately in love. Their daughter, Princess Elizabeth wrote an account the day before Charles was beheaded and she said: “He bid us tell my mother that his thoughts had never strayed from her, and that his love would be the same to the last.” Lina wrote on her blog her top 10 favourite titbits of info of love and heartache about Charles I & Henrietta Maria, go check it out ;)

This is getting too long lol I'm not going to get into what most historians called his "personnal reign" and the civil wars. I just hope that this couple of informations made you want to find more about Charles and his time :) 

Don't settle for just one book about him because as I said at the beginning, he is a very controversial figure and lot of biographies (not so much with the recent ones but still) tend to insist on his supposedly taste for "tyranny" and romanticise the role of Parliament (aka the whole Whig historiography). Charles' reign sparked off a revolution where new ideals of liberty and citizens' rights were born HOWEVER it was a matter of decades/centuries for these ideas to penetrate society and every strats of the political spectrum. The Parliament's ideology of the 1620-1640 (and then during the Restoration) had a very nostalgic vision of politics. The idea of reform was light years away from these ultraconservative men.

But to be honest even outside Parliament. When you look at men such as Fénelon, Bolingbroke or Montesquieu. They were all convinced that a restoration (often of a magnified past) was the only response to the evils of their time. Reform in the early modern period, whether it was religious or political, was thought as a restoration. It's in mid-18th century that the shift happened, the future was at last conceivable. Anyway, all of that is to say that I'm a bit wary of all the authors who depict the MPs of this period as great reformers, who fought against the tyranny. They were mostly conservative men and very attached to THEIR priviliges.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Post-College Prom

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG/K+

Original Idea: The past is loosely based on my actual past, with names changed to protect the idiots innocents involved. The present is based on an event happening in the future XD

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) *emerges from the depths of the internet to break hiatus for a moment* Hello! I’m back! For the first time in a while, I have something to write! I’ve been working on a lot of original projects recently, but with the virus outbreak and the social distancing/quarantine thing, I had an idea to make a one-shot! Shoutout to @welovegroot for checking in on me and making sure I’m still writing XD @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

I wanted to have a nice post-college prom night. I didn’t expect to spend most of the night peering around at the small crowd for my ex. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of him being there until Jason and I were already there.

My good friend from high school, Freddie, was throwing a prom night because his “greatest regret in life so far” was not taking his then-crush, now-wife to prom. So he decided to rent out an elementary school’s gymnasium to host a prom that he could take his wife to. So, despite the fact that I had graduated college, I was going to prom. Which was just as well. I hadn’t been asked to prom in high school so I’d gone stag with some friends of mine—and we had a fun time regardless even though it had been raining that night and we got lost on the way to the venue and I nearly ruined my sister’s heels.

As soon as Freddie emailed me and told me about post-college prom, I called Jason to ask if he’d be my date. We’d only been officially dating for about a month, but by the time prom came around, we’d been officially together for six. Mostly due to rogues delaying the date of the dance.

“Freddie!” I exclaimed, clenching Jason’s hand tighter and dragging him behind me. I slowed to a stop in front of my friend and his wife, Kelsey. She’d been a friend of mine in high school too and I always thought they’d be cute together.

“Hey!” Freddie replied brightly. “Good to see you!” He gave me a big hug that I quickly transferred to Kelsey.

“Freddie, Kels, I’d like to introduce you to my boyfriend. Jason. Jay, this is Freddie and Kelsey, my friends from high school that I’ve told you about a couple times before,” I said, smiling between my boyfriend and my old friends. I hadn’t even seen Freddie and Kelsey in at least two years. Apart from their occasional Facebook updates that I saw even less frequently than they made them since I was never on Facebook anymore.

“Oh yeah,” Jason said with a good natured smile. “Freddie’s the one who tried to do a full-T with you in swing club and almost dropped you, right?”

My right ankle throbbed just thinking about it as Freddie went red. “Yeah,” I said.

Jason stuck his hand out to shake Freddie’s. “Nice to meet the reason she doesn’t trust me when I pick her up.”

Freddie shook Jason’s hand with cautious confusion. “She doesn’t trust… you?”

I could understand his bewilderment. Jason and Freddie weren’t the same build. At all. Freddie was stronger than he looked, but he was still a scrawny, skinny guy who looked like a strawberry-blond Benedict Cumberbatch (it was the mouth, nose, and blue eyes probably). Jason was at least three inches taller, and built like freaking Superman. Muscular, sturdy.

I snorted. “Thanks Jay. He didn’t need to know that,” I said. “And it’s not that I don’t trust you to pick me up, it’s just that I don’t like my feet being off the ground for more than a few seconds in general.”

Jason chuckled. “Alright, alright. Well, it was nice to meet you both,” he said.

“You too,” Kelsey put in with a grin. She was one of the only people I’d ever met who was smaller than me and fully-grown.

Jason and I made our way back to the coat rack and slung off our overcoats. They were jackets, really. It was evening in late spring and it was almost warm enough not to need one. But it was never quite that warm. Not in Gotham, anyway.

As Jason hung my jacket, I glanced around, noticing a bunch the old swing club members from high school.

A thought struck me.

Davey and I started seeing each other—without ever officially deeming us “together”—because he’d sat next to me in a class and I convinced him to join swing club after he expressed a passing interest in learning to dance.

I tried to shake the fear off as we wandered the small crowd—that also consisted of some of Freddie and Kelsey’s friends from college that I didn’t know—but I couldn’t get the anxiety out of my head. Had Freddie invited Davey? Was Davey coming? I assumed he was still in Metropolis for college since I was roughly a year-and-a-half ahead of him. He’d done a gap year right out of high school and then a humanitarian thing somewhere overseas for a year before going back to school. Maybe he couldn’t make it to Gotham for the prom night.

Davey and I parted on less-than-friendly terms and I hadn’t heard from him in… nearly three years.

“Babe?” Jason asked as he pulled me onto the dancefloor. “Something on your mind?”

I craned my neck around at the crowd. Davey was nowhere to be seen. “Kinda,” I said, looking back to Jason. “Just hoping my ex doesn’t show up.”

Jason just grunted and started to spin me around, wasting no time in breaking out the swing dance moves he somehow knew before he even met me. He wouldn’t tell me, though, how a vigilante came to learn how to swing dance. I’d always just guessed it was because Jason was a closet nerd.

We danced for a long while before I was too tired to go on and needed a break for at least one song. Maybe two. Luckily there were chairs lining the room. Adult-sized chairs, thankfully.

“You okay?” Jason asked. “You’re all red.”

“Happens when I work out,” I teased.

We hung out for two songs before getting up to talk to the few folks who weren’t dancing. Jason did most of the talking, despite the fact that he knew no one at the prom, since he was the one genuinely interested in who all these people were. I looked around and just waited for Davey to walk through the door.

Prom had been going on for an hour before I finally relaxed. If he hadn’t arrived already, he probably wasn’t coming.

Jason and I were in the middle of a waltz when he lifted his hand from my shoulder blade to wave at someone. “Hey, I know that guy,” he said. “Wonder how Freddie does.” He spun me under his arm too fast for me to see who he was talking about. “We were in a couple engineering classes at Metropolis City University together.”

I scrunched my eyebrows at Jason. “You went to MCU? I thought you were a GCU guy?”

“I am. But I got my Associate’s at MCU. They have a great engineering program. Thought I was going to get my Bachelor’s in engineering before swapping to literature and transferring back home,” Jason explained.

He waved over his friend. “David! Come here! I want you to meet my girlfriend!”

My entire circulatory system turned chill. My blood ran so cold it felt like my capillaries were turning to ice. I tried to remind myself that David was a common name, but David, MCU, and engineering. One similarity to my ex was interesting. Two was a coincidence. But three was a pattern. There was too much there. I was going to be even more surprised if I turned around and wasn’t face-to-face with the guy who broke my heart nearly three years ago.

Jason spun me around to face his classmate from Metropolis.

Davey was even goofier-looking than I remembered. His teeth had always been too big for his face, but when we were in high school he hadn’t grown into his features yet. And by the looks of things, he still hadn’t five years later. His dirty-blond hair was so short it made his head look long and rectangular on the sides, which contrasted sharply with his narrow chin. His teeth were still too big for his face and his overbite had never quite been fixed by his braces. His angular nose seemed to have had a nostril-widening.

The biggest difference though was his glasses. In high school he exclusively wore contacts. At some point, though, he’d switched to his glasses.

There was also a girl on his arm. My mom would jump to my defense immediately and say she wasn’t as pretty as I was and that Davey really missed out on me, but she was cute in a different way than I was.

Davey bit my name past his lips with an, “Oh hi,” tacked on at the front like he was surprised to see me. As if I wouldn’t show up to Freddie’s event. Even though I was a swing club member first. I put on my most tightly cordial smile and gave a respectful head-nod of greeting to his significant other first, completely ignoring him.

“Hello there. You must be his… partner,” I said.

“Yes. I’m Rachel. I’m his wife.”

I nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she said. She gave me a smile, and I realized she was what Davey needed. A quiet person. A listener. He and I had both been talkers.

“Wait,” Jason interrupted. “How do you two know each other?”

I bit back a surge of bitterness at the way Davey broke off our relationship. I was happy with Jason but that didn’t mean Davey hadn’t hurt me worse than I’d ever been hurt before. “Jay, this is Davey—the other one I told you about,” I said. My hand tightened in his grip. “My old dance partner from swing club.”

“Oh,” he said as realization struck. He squeezed my hand. “Well, then, David, I guess you already know my girlfriend.”

“Guess so,” Davey said.

“Well, Rachel, it was nice to meet you,” I said. It wasn’t her fault Davey was tactless and immature when he broke up with me, leaving me with lots of bitter feelings.

“It was nice to meet you too,” she said before Jason whisked me back onto the dancefloor—on the opposite side from Davey and Rachel.

“You never told me your ex was in engineering at MCU!” Jason hissed.

“It was never relevant!” I hissed back. “And he was in environmental engineering! I didn’t think you two would have ever met! I also had no clue you even went to MCU until a few minutes ago!”

“Yeah, okay, fair,” Jason said. He spun me under his arm, making my skirt flare out. “But I’m sorry to have put you through that awkwardness.”

“Thanks,” I said.

We danced for a few more minutes before Jason stopped abruptly and pulled his phone out of his inside jacket pocket. His eyes widened as he read the text. “Update from Red Robin,” he said quietly, pulling me off the dancefloor by the hand toward the coat rack. “There’s a robbery at Gotham First City Bank. Possible Joker thugs. I have to go—”

“I’m coming too.”

“Babe, no. You wanted this night. Don’t let me ruin—”

“It’d be ruined the second you left me alone here with David,” I put in sharply.

Jason seemed to think about that for a moment. “Fair point,” he said. He grabbed our coats and we ducked out of the gym. “We can try and come back when we’ve dealt with the bank.”

“We’ll see,” I said.

[bountyofbeads]

Trump Names Mike Pence to Lead Coronavirus Response https://nyti.ms/391M7tj

The president’s budget request for the fiscal year that begins in October would slash the C.D.C.’s budget by almost 16 percent, and the Health and Human Services Department’s by almost 10 percent. Tens of millions of dollars would come from the department’s Office of Public Health Preparedness and Response and its Hospital Preparedness Program, which helps hospitals handle surges of patients during disease outbreaks." I'm sure it seemed like a great idea at the time."

TRUMP NAMES MIKE PENCE TO LEAD CORONAVIRUS RESPONSE

President Trump sought to reassure the country that his government was controlling the spread of the coronavirus after his administration weathered days of criticism.

By Michael D. Shear, Noah Weiland  and  Katie Roger's | Published Feb. 26, 2020 Updated 9:54 p.m. ET | New York Times | Posted February 26, 2020 |

WASHINGTON — President Trump named Vice President Mike Pence on Wednesday to coordinate the government’s response to the coronavirus, even as he repeatedly played down the danger to the United States of a widespread domestic outbreak.

Mr. Trump’s announcement, at a White House news conference, followed mounting bipartisan criticism that the administration’s response had been sluggish and came after two days of contradictory messages about the virus, which has infected more than 81,000 people globally, killing nearly 3,000.

“The risk to the American people remains very low,” said Mr. Trump, flanked by top health officials from several government agencies. “We have the greatest experts, really in the world, right here.”

The president said he would accept whatever amount of money congressional Democrats wanted to give for the virus response, adding, “We’re ready to adapt and we’re ready to do whatever we have to as the disease spreads, if it spreads.”

“We’ll spend whatever is appropriate,” he said.

Several top health care experts at the news conference echoed Mr. Trump’s optimism but also offered a more sober assessment of the future risks. Dr. Anne Schuchat, the principal deputy director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, warned Americans that there would be more infections.

“Our aggressive containment strategy here in the United States has been working and is responsible for the low levels of cases that we have so far. However, we do expect more cases,” she said as the president stood behind her. “The trajectory of what we’re looking at over the weeks and months ahead is very uncertain.”

About a half-hour later, Mr. Trump contradicted Ms. Schuchat’s assessment, telling reporters that “I don’t think it’s inevitable.” He left the door open to travel restrictions beyond China, to other hard-hit countries such as South Korea and Italy and said his early decision to stop flights from China had held the virus at bay.

But the C.D.C. confirmed minutes later that a new infection in California was contracted by a person who did not appear to have traveled to countries hard hit by the virus or been exposed to a known coronavirus patient. That raised the prospect that the virus was spreading through unknown means.

Health experts have questioned the C.D.C.’s decision to limit testing for the virus to people who have traveled in China or have come into contact with someone who has. Other countries are testing more broadly for the coronavirus among people from countries where outbreaks have been growing, including Italy, Iran and South Korea.

“We’re testing everybody that we need to test,” Mr. Trump insisted, “and we’re finding very little problem, very little problem.”

Earlier in the day, Mr. Trump had accused journalists of making the situation “look as bad as possible” even as government health experts warned that the coronavirus threat in the United States is only beginning. Without offering any details on transmission, Alex M. Azar II, the health and human services secretary, confirmed the new case on Wednesday afternoon, bringing to 60 the total number of infections that have been counted in the United States. Mr. Azar said that health officials were still figuring out how the new person became infected.

The politics of coronavirus shifted drastically on Tuesday when Dr. Nancy Messonnier, the director of the C.D.C.’s National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, told reporters that “it’s not so much of a question of if this will happen anymore but rather more of a question of exactly when this will happen.” She said that hospitals and schools should begin preparing for an outbreak, and that she had even spoken to her own family about “significant disruption of our lives.”

Mr. Trump sought on Wednesday to counter that message with a much less dire one, holding up a Johns Hopkins University study that he said showed the United States as the most prepared country in the world to confront a virus. He said he was “amazed” that tens of thousands of people died from the flu each year, contrasting that number with the several dozen currently infected with coronavirus.

“We’re very, very ready for this, for anything, whether it’s going to be a breakout of larger proportions or whether or not we’re, you know, we’re at that very low level,” Mr. Trump said.

The president, who is a well-known germophobe, urged Americans to be vigilant about covering their coughs and washing their hands, and he told the story of a man who recently came up to him and hugged him.

“I said are you well? He says no,” Mr. Trump said. “He said, ‘I have the worst fever, and the worst flu.’ He’s hugging and kissing me. I said, ‘Excuse me,’ I went and started washing my hands.”

Mr. Trump has been reluctant to give in to what he considers an “alarmist” view about the virus, an administration official said. The president has repeatedly said that, like the flu, the new coronavirus will dissipate with warmer, more humid weather even though officials have warned him that relatively little is known about the virus, and it may not behave as others do.

The possibility of the virus spreading in the United States comes as the administration grapples with budget cuts and personnel moves that critics say have weakened the system for dealing with such health crises. The White House in 2018 eliminated a dedicated position on the National Security Council to coordinate pandemic response, the same year that the Trump administration narrowed its epidemiological work to 10 countries from 49.

In November, a task force at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, which included five current and former Republican senators and House members, warned that “the United States remains woefully ill prepared to respond to global health security threats” and recommended the reinstatement of an N.S.C. coordinator and a recommitment of funding and attention to global health programs.

Instead, the president’s budget request this month for the fiscal year that begins in October would cut the C.D.C.’s budget by almost 16 percent, and the Health and Human Services Department’s by almost 10 percent. The proposal’s $3 billion in cuts to global health programs included a 53 percent cut to the World Health Organization and a 75 percent cut to the Pan American Health Organization.

And his naming of Mr. Pence as his point person immediately drew partisan fire even as he vowed to ensure that the “full resources of the American government” were deployed to protect Americans from the coronavirus.

The Democratic National Committee immediately pointed out that as governor of Indiana, Mr. Pence was blamed for aggravating a severe AIDS outbreak among intravenous drug users in a rural Indiana county when he opposed calls for a clean needle exchange program on the grounds it would encourage more drug use.

It has fallen to Mr. Azar to make the case that the government is up to the task of containing the virus as anxiety grew around the world about vulnerability to a still-mysterious affliction that does not respect international borders.

New cases popped up across Europe, dozens of infections in Iran raised fears of an unbridled spread through the Middle East, and the first confirmed case was reported in Latin America — a Brazilian man who had returned from Italy just as Brazil is in the midst of its Carnival celebrations.

For the first time, more new cases were reported outside China — where the outbreak began two months ago — than inside, according to figures from the World Health Organization.

The Chinese authorities cautioned that the falling infection rate might be only temporary, while South Korean officials scrambled to contain the largest outbreak of cases outside China — including an American soldier deployed in South Korea. Across the United States, universities began bringing students home from abroad and canceling overseas study programs.

Mr. Trump has privately expressed frustration to numerous officials about his administration’s efforts confront the virus, according to someone familiar with his comments.

[ VIDEO 01:12‘Someone Needs to Be in Charge’: Alex Azar Grilled in Coronavirus Hearing

The secretary of health and human services, Alex M. Azar II, testified to lawmakers about efforts to respond to the coronavirus outbreak.Feb. 26, 2020Image by T.J. Kirkpatrick for The New York Times]

As recently as last weekend, the president grew furious that he had been sidelined from a decision to return some Americans infected with the virus to the United States, and he made his anger to Mr. Azar known. Officials in the White House have since wrestled with how best to present Mr. Trump with information during a fast-moving situation, one aide said.

The White House’s muscular internal messaging efforts kicked in on Wednesday. Supporters were pelted with multiple emails assuring them that Mr. Trump was overseeing an “aggressive coronavirus response,” and that the “full weight of the U.S. government” was working to safeguard Americans from illness, according to one message.

Mr. Trump’s attempts to calm the American public have also occasionally been laced with a degree of alarm, with Mr. Trump telling reporters at a news conference in India on Tuesday that “there’s a very good chance you’re not going to die.”

Some of Mr. Trump’s political allies tried to question the motivation of some of his top health officials for warning the public about the spread of the virus.

Rush Limbaugh, the conservative talk radio host, on Wednesday argued without foundation that Dr. Messonnier was being purposely alarmist to undermine Mr. Trump because she is the sister of Rod Rosenstein, the former deputy attorney general who was a frequent target of Mr. Trump’s ire.

“In that town, I’m telling you, everything is incestuous,” Mr. Limbaugh said on his show. “Most of that town is establishment oriented or rooted, which means they despise Trump.”

Mr. Trump’s reassurances to the public appear at least in part aimed at calming global markets. On Tuesday, a day after its worst one-day slide in two years, the S&P 500 closed down 3 percent. The S&P 500 ended Wednesday down about 0.4 percent, bringing its losses for the week to close to more than 6 percent.

Moody’s Analytics predicted a 40 percent chance that the virus would grow into a global pandemic that would push the United States and the world into a recession. On Wednesday, Mr. Trump said he believed that “the stock market will recover. The economy is very strong.”

For a second day, Mr. Azar was on Capitol Hill Wednesday defending his work, telling lawmakers that he was overseeing “the smoothest interagency process I’ve experienced in my 20 years of dealing with public health emergencies.”

Mr. Azar said that the C.D.C. had already exhausted the $105 million rapid response fund that the federal government had been using in its initial response efforts. He has proposed shifting $136 million from other health programs to the coronavirus to replenish the government’s efforts.

A day earlier, he told a Senate panel that medical supplies were badly needed for the nation’s emergency stockpile, including 300 million masks for health care workers alone.

But on Wednesday, he faced bipartisan concern about the administration’s $2.5 billion request. Lawmakers from both parties have said the White House request is far short of what is needed and relies on the transfer of existing funds — including $535 million intended to counter the spread of the Ebola virus.

“These cuts are shameful,” Representative Anna G. Eshoo, Democrat of California, said Wednesday evening at a separate House hearing with Mr. Azar.

Senator Chuck Schumer of New York, the Democratic leader, proposed on Wednesday to increase the president’s emergency request drastically, to $8.5 billion in new funds, including$3 billion for a public health emergency fund, $1.5 billion for the C.D.C., $1 billion for vaccine development and $2 billion for reimbursing states and cities for efforts they have so far made to monitor and prepare for potential cases of the virus.

Mr. Trump said he would gladly accept the additional funds.

_____

Reporting was contributed by Emily Cochrane, Maggie Haberman, Jim Tankersley, Sheryl Gay Stolberg, Catie Edmondson, Eileen Sullivan and Carl Hulse.

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"The problem with the president speaking up now is that no matter what he says -- from expecting the worst pandemic the world has ever seen to the best administration response to what is really no health issue at all -- who is going to believe him? When Nancy Messonnier speaks, I will believe her. But Trump has proven that he never tells the truth. Why should he change now? Anything coming from Trump and his administration I will totally disregard as propaganda meant to salvage Trump's reelection campaign and the failing stock market. Nothing more. Nothing less." AVRDS, MONTANA

"Here's the actual Trump record on protecting its citizens and public health: In 2018, the Trump administration fired the government’s entire pandemic response chain of command, including the White House management infrastructure. In May 2018, Trump ordered the National Security Council’s entire global health security unit shut down, calling for reassignment of Rear Adm. Timothy Ziemer and dissolution of his team inside the agency. The month before, then-White House National Security Advisor John Bolton pressured Ziemer’s DHS counterpart, Tom Bossert, to resign along with his team. Neither the NSC nor DHS epidemic teams have been replaced. The global health section of the CDC was so drastically cut in 2018 that much of its staff was laid off and the number of countries it was working in was reduced from 49 to merely 10. Meanwhile, throughout 2018, the U.S. Agency for International Development and its director, Mark Green, came repeatedly under fire from both the White House and Secretary of State Mike Pompeo. And though Congress has so far managed to block Trump administration plans to cut the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps by 40%, the disease-fighting cadres have steadily eroded as retiring officers go unreplaced. Trump - and his GOP aiders and abetters - are singlehandledly responsible for 'small government' incompetence, negligence and abandonment of the American people. Americans will die because Donald Trump and the GOP hate the government." SOCRATES, VERONA NJ

"This is a potential event of a magnitude of impact we haven't seen since World War II. At this point, the bombers are headed toward Pearl Harbor, and it's unlikely our radar will find them before it's too late. We are sitting ducks and the current administration has already eliminated much of the infrastructure we need to address this. As a retired physician, I worry greatly about the coming impact on our health care system, the "soldiers" in this response. When health workers get sick, and they will because of the contagiousness no matter how well they try to protect themselves, then the system will be even more severely stressed. Patients with seemingly benign presentations will be infectious. Those who in "normal times" need advanced care in hospitals will be impacted. Supplies of protective gear are inadequate at this time. Every facet of life - work, school, public transit, food distribution, social events - may see profound impacts. And at the top of the heap, our president is the worst possible person to be in charge at this time. We need truth, transparency, and compassion from this man, and he is incapable of delivering those things. We need competent leadership (Jared can't be the czar of this too!) and a huge amount of resources - not borrowing from other important programs. We're in trouble." JOE, LAFAYETTE CA

"So how is Trump going to blame the media when the virus does get here? The progression of the disease is just beginning. It's early, very early. So far, it appears the virus can be carried and passed around for a week or two before any symptoms develop. That is a sure fire mechanism for widespread infection. In the US and other free societies, we don't lock people up just to prevent the spread of disease. We do quarantine people after they get sick, but by then the disease would have been passed on to others. With international travel commonplace, especially in the business world, there will be no way to stop the spread of the disease short of locking down borders. That would cripple the global economy. Won't happen. Besides, the virus is already widespread. The proverbial genie is already out of the bottle. Keep in mind that for most people, the symptoms are mild, like a cold. So now everyone who sniffles gets quarantined? That won't happen either. So far, the death rate is about 3% which is slightly greater than the death rate of the flu pandemic of 1918-19. The potential for deaths ranges in the many tens of millions. This is the real deal. This is not a time for political spin and disinformation from government officials, especially from the President of the United States."BRUCE, KANSAS CITY MO

"First and foremost, we need to have a reliable testing kit. The CDC tests are barely working. Not all states have the test kit. Therefore, a large reason we are not seeing the virus in the US is because we are NOT testing for it! The infection is most likely brewing at a low level in some cities already. Oh yea, we also need masks, ventilators, antibiotics (for superimposed bacterial infections), classes online, social distancing, and a different president." MIDWEST DOC, CLEVELAND

"Our lack of universal health care and social safety net can only exacerbate the spread and the damage the virus causes. When workers don't have paid sick leave, can't afford the loss of income, and fear the loss of their job, they will come to work when they're sick. When a sick person fears destitution from lack of health insurance, or from copays, deductibles, and/or surprise bills, they will avoid or delay medical care. When the emergency room is the only available access to health care, crowded waiting rooms will offer the virus an ideal place to propagate. When American health care corporations outsource manufacturing of pharmaceuticals and raw ingredients to China and rely on just-in-time supply chains, all in the name of maximizing short-term shareholder value, shortages of critical drugs and supplies will compromise treatment and result in needless deaths. When vaccines and antivirals are eventually developed, the manufacturers will gouge Americans with exorbitant unregulated prices. By limiting availability to the wealthy and those with the best insurance, an opportunity to curb the spread of infection will be sacrificed in the name of shareholder value. But maybe some good may ultimately come from this virus. By exposing the indefensible failures of a system focused on wealth care for Wall Street rather than health care for people, it may be what finally forces the US to join the rest of the civilized world and adopt universal health care." TED, CALIFORNIA

"“A great job?!” Most states don’t even have testing kits yet." SUMMER, SEATTLE WA

"@Joe As a retired Microbiologist (virology) I couldn't agree with you more. We have the people who are experts at CDC. and they need to be totally supported in every way. We have capacity in terms of providing the resources as well. What we need is is a big, broad-based, organized education program since we are seeing a lot of mis-information being spread already. Despite what Rush Limbaugh says it is more than the common cold. What Trump says is true, in that it eventually will die out, but that will be when the supply of potential victims disappears. That will be quite a while." GSS, AUGUSTA GA

"When I was a kid half the city of Chicago were quarantined in their homes----especially in the summer when polio raged, but also for an array of other diseases--it was one of the few weapons we had. Walking to school, every other house had a huge "quarantine" sign on it. At the time we had not been blessed by having a president who knows absolutely everything about everything. What we did have was a stable government and a well funded and managed system of public health. Public Health agencies now will march to the anti-science, anti public health tune being boomed by the GOP over the loudspeakers. Hup, two, three." MARY, ARIZONA

"As I prepare to cast my vote on Super Tuesday what is guiding my choice at this moment is which of the current democratic candidates would I most want in office during this type of potential global health crisis."

REDBED, NH

Again POTUS shows more concern on how a crisis affects him and not the country. Instead of being concerned that there are people infected in this country and containing the virus for the sake of the American people, his concern is to whether it will hurt his chances at re-election. Attacking the media again to shift the blame to them instead of on his decision to cut funding to another Dept. that would have been our first line of defense. I think Nancy Pelosi stated correctly, "I don't think the President knows what he is talking about, again!" RUSSELL SMITH, FLORIDA

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C.D.C. CONFIRMS FIRST POSSIBLE COMMUNITY TRANSMISSION OF CORONAVIRUS IN U.S..... A case in California may be the first infection without a known link to travel abroad.

By Roni Caryn Rabin | Published Feb. 26, 2020 Updated 9:03 p.m. ET | New York Times | Posted February 26, 2020

A person in California who was not exposed to anyone known to be infected with the coronavirus, and had not traveled to countries in which the virus is circulating, has tested positive for the infection.

It may be the first case of community spread in the United States, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said on Wednesday.

“At this point, the patient’s exposure is unknown,” the C.D.C. statement said. “The case was detected through the U.S. public health system and picked up by astute clinicians.”

The case was announced shortly after President Trump concluded a news briefing in which he said that aggressive public health containment measures and travel entry restrictions had successfully limited the spread of coronavirus in the United States.

It brings the number of cases in the country to 60, including the 45 cases among Americans who were repatriated from Wuhan, China — the epicenter of the outbreak — and the Diamond Princess cruise ship, which was overwhelmed by the virus after it docked in Japan.

Until now, public health officials have been able to trace all of the infections in the country to a recent trip abroad or a known patient, and to identify the sources of exposure.

Though C.D.C. officials said it was possible the patient was exposed to a returning traveler who was infected, the new case appears to be one of community spread — one in which the source of infection is unknown.

“The thing that would immediately make all of us uneasy is if this person has no direct contact with someone who comes from an affected country,” said Dr. William Schaffner, an infectious disease specialist at Vanderbilt University.

“That would suggest there are other undetected cases out there, and we have already started some low-grade transmission.”

Public health officials said the infected individual was a resident of Solano County, Calif., and was receiving medical care in Sacramento County, but they have not disclosed any other information to protect the patient’s privacy.

Doctors in the patient’s community may want to expand testing for the coronavirus among their patients in order to identify other infected individuals there, Dr. Schaffner said.

“Physicians are going to want to start testing everybody with a fever and a cough,” he said. “They’re going to want to do that and the patients are going to want to do that.”

Right now, however, testing capacity is limited in the United States.

The C.D.C. developed a diagnostic test and distributed testing kits to local health departments around the country.

But the kits were flawed, and the agency must manufacture new ones. Although a dozen states are capable of testing for coronavirus infection, confirmatory tests must still be done by the C.D.C., a process that can take days.

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TRUMP HAS A PROBLEM AS THE CORONAVIRUS THREATENS THE U.S.: HIS CREDIBILITY Even his allies worry that Mr. Trump has undermined his ability to appear presidential in a moment of national emergency,

By Annie Karni, Michael Crowley  and Maggie Haberman | Published Feb. 26, 2020 Updated 10:10 p.m. ET | New York Times | Posted Feb 26, 2020 |

WASHINGTON — When Hurricane Dorian crashed into the Atlantic Coast in September, President Trump assumed a take-charge role in response. But he undermined his own effectiveness after it became apparent that before displaying a map in front of the television cameras in the Oval Office, he had altered it with a Sharpie pen to match his inaccurate forecast of where the storm was headed.

For years, experts have warned that Mr. Trump has been squandering the credibility he could need in a moment of national emergency, like a terrorist attack or a public health crisis.

Now, as the coronavirus races across the globe and has begun to threaten the United States, Mr. Trump could face a moment of reckoning. Maintaining a calm and orderly response during an epidemic, in which countless lives could be at stake, requires that the president be a reliable public messenger.

“I think the president has a unique opportunity to dispel fears and calm the situation — if people believe he is telling the truth,” said Kathleen Sebelius, who served as secretary of health and human services in the Obama administration. “And I think that’s really where a great disconnect occurs.”

On Wednesday evening, Mr. Trump delivered an almost casual account of the administration’s response to the coronavirus, leaving it to the experts appearing with him to relay the real information and assure a jittery public. Still, he kept trying to suggest the risk was low.

“We will see what happens,” the president said as he addressed the nation. “But we are very, very ready for this, for anything.”

Mr. Trump said that Johns Hopkins University rated the United States “No. 1 for being prepared,” holding up a chart printed on an 8 ½ by 11 sheet of paper.

“This will end,” he said, comparing the coronavirus to the everyday flu. “We really have done a very good job.”

During a crisis, presidents are looked to for direct and honest assessments of threats and for reassurance to the public about their impact.

During the swine flu outbreak of 1976, President Gerald R. Ford announced at a news conference that the government planned to vaccinate “every man, woman and child in the United States.” Mr. Ford himself was photographed receiving the vaccine in the White House as part of a public awareness campaign.

Responding to the Ebola outbreak in West Africa in 2014, President Barack Obama visited the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta to announce that the administration would send as many as 3,000 people to the region.

Mr. Trump, in contrast, contradicted his own health experts in a news conference Wednesday evening, insisting that the spread of the virus was not inevitable, and excoriating two of his favorite foils, Speaker Nancy Pelosi and Senator Chuck Schumer, the minority leader, for “trying to create a panic.”

For three and a half years, Mr. Trump has repeatedly proved an unreliable narrator on a range of subjects.

At times, he has exaggerated threats, like talking up the caravans of migrants he claimed were storming the southern border before the 2018 midterm elections. Other times, he has minimized potentially serious dangers that could be politically damaging, like the renewed nuclear threat posed by North Korea after the failure of his talks with its leader, Kim Jong-un, and now, the global spread of the coronavirus, which he has persistently tried to play down.

In his response to the coronavirus, Mr. Trump has made inaccurate or questionable claims, twice misstating the number of Americans infected with the virus and insisting that it “miraculously goes away” when warmer spring weather arrives — a prediction that health experts have said is premature.

He based that prediction on a comment made at one of his briefings, when an expert noted that temperatures can affect the spread of viruses. Mr. Trump has used that data point as evidence in saying in public and in private to guests at his Mar-a-Lago resort in Palm Beach, Fla., that the global outbreak will be behind him by April.

The president, as he often does, has also focused on coverage of his response, complaining that he is being treated unfairly and blaming the news media. “If the virus disappeared tomorrow, they would say we did a really poor, and even incompetent, job,” he tweeted on Tuesday. “Not fair, but it is what it is. So far, by the way, we have not had one death. Let’s keep it that way!”

Before he took office, Mr. Trump was an outspoken critic of the Obama administration’s handling of the Ebola outbreak, arguing that infected people should not be allowed back into the United States.

Current Trump allies said the fact that the president chose to address the growing public health crisis quickly after returning from a trip to India showed how seriously he was taking the outbreak.

But privately, they say he has been reluctant to give in to what he has called an “alarmist” view of the virus’s potential to cause damage as he warily watches the effect of the outbreak on the stock market. He has been rattled by the Wall Street reaction to the spread of the virus in places like Italy, lashing out at the news media in tweets and accusing journalists of intentionally trying to harm the stock market.

And polls show that Mr. Trump’s credibility with much of the United States is low after an impeachment inquiry in which a majority of voters said they did not believe that he was telling the truth about his actions involving Ukraine.

Federal health officials had been bracing for the arrival of the virus in the country with minimal intervention by the White House.

As Ebola presented both a health and political threat to his administration in 2014, Mr. Obama carefully hewed to proven science, which he repeatedly invoked in his carefully calibrated public messages.

“We have to be guided by the science. We have to remember the basic facts,” he said in an October 2014 radio message.

Mr. Trump, in contrast, has not been focused on scientific detail. The secretary of health and human services, Alex M. Azar II, has told officials they should give the notoriously impatient president simple, paint-by-numbers briefings on coronavirus.

But a larger fear among experts in the field has been that he would contradict scientific experts. “That’s where Trump is most pernicious, potentially,” said Ron Klain, who served as Mr. Obama’s “Ebola czar,” and now is an adviser to the presidential campaign of former Vice President Joseph R. Biden Jr. “When he contradicts those experts, when he suggests they have biases, or when he intimidates them not to be straight, that’s when the risk really grows.”

As Mr. Trump faces this emergency, his history of issuing false claims could make it harder to sell the public on any plans to address coronavirus.

“When you’re trying to build trust in the government’s response, people have to have trust,” said Leslie Dach, a senior counselor at health and human services during the Ebola outbreak.

“Making false promises and them turning out not to be true undermines people’s confidence,” Mr. Dach said. He pointed to Mr. Trump’s claim this month about the virus that, “We did shut it down, yes.”

As recently as this week, the president appeared to simply want to put the coronavirus response in his rearview mirror. “I think that’s a problem that’s going to go away,” he said in remarks on Tuesday to a group of business leaders in New Delhi.

On Wednesday, before Mr. Trump’s news conference, his allies on television and radio appeared to be speaking to the proverbial “audience of one” as they sought to give their unsolicited advice to the president.

Jason Miller, a top adviser to Mr. Trump’s 2016 campaign who hosts a podcast that is currently focused on the coronavirus, tweeted that the president had to “make clear full Administration working around the clock on this, and explain in everyday, layman’s terms what we need to both do and avoid to remain safe.”

On Fox News, daytime hosts noted the news conference presented an “opportunity for him to act presidential.”

Mr. Trump, however, chose to conduct the news conference his own way.

“It is what it is,” he said of the potential for a virus with a higher fatality than the flu to spread through communities. “We’ve got the greatest people in the world.”

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Noah Weiland contributed reporting from Washington, and Donald G. McNeil Jr. from New York.

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WHAT WOULD A CORONAVIRUS OUTBREAK IN THE U.S. MEAN FOR SCHOOLS? Districts have infectious disease protocols. But few have detailed plans to teach online if schools were closed for long periods.

By Dana Goldstein and Julie Bosman | Published Feb. 27, 2020, 5:00 a.m. ET| New York Times | Posted Feb 27, 2020 |

Schools in the United States prepare for all manner of disasters and threats, whether hurricanes, mass shooters, tornadoes, influenza or head lice.

But this week, a stark new order came from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention: Get ready for the coronavirus.

Around the nation, school officials and parents were flummoxed by the sudden warning that if a coronavirus epidemic hit the United States, school buildings could be shut down for long periods of time, leaving children sequestered at home and schools scrambling to provide remote instruction.

In warning that the coronavirus will almost certainly spread in the United States, Dr. Nancy Messonnier, director of the National Center for Immunization and Respiratory Diseases, said she had contacted her own local school superintendent this week and asked if the district was prepared. She advised parents to do the same. And she suggested that a temporary system of “internet-based teleschooling” could replace traditional schools.

It was not clear how such a system would work.

The obstacles to teaching remotely were evident: American children have uneven access to home computers and broadband internet. Schools have limited expertise in providing instruction online on a large scale. And parents would be forced to juggle their own work responsibilities with what could amount to “a vast unplanned experiment in mass home-schooling,” said Kevin Carey, vice president for education policy at New America, a think tank.

Across the country, as federal authorities announced that 60 people in the United States had been infected with the virus, mainly from travel abroad, families were grappling with the new alarm raised over the virus and how a possible outbreak could play out in their own communities.

In Denver, Meg Conley’s 11-year-old daughter, Margaret, interrupted breakfast on Wednesday morning with a worried question. She told her mother that her elementary school classmates were gripped by fears about the coronavirus, and she asked when it was coming and how many people it would kill.

“I had no idea,” Ms. Conley, 35, a freelance writer, said of the children’s anxieties. “Apparently it’s all the kids are talking about on the playground.”

Schools are hastily making their own plans, or updating those drafted during previous scares over viruses like H1N1 and Ebola. The Washington State health department held a webinar for about 250 school superintendents on Tuesday to discuss coronavirus preparations, including plans to close schools and allow students to continue to do schoolwork at home.

Dennis Kosuth, a nurse for Chicago Public Schools, said his district’s ability to handle an outbreak could be compromised by circumstances like families who could not afford child care costs to keep sick children at home. Nursing shortages are a concern, too, he said. Mr. Kosuth said he was responsible for nursing care at four schools.

Some Chicago schools also lack rooms dedicated to health needs, Mr. Kosuth said. In one school where many students and staff members became ill with an ordinary infection last semester, “Patient Zero was sitting in the main office coughing and sneezing all over the place” as the sick child waited to be picked up, he said.

On a more positive note, Mr. Kosuth said that evidence from China suggested that children were more resilient to the coronavirus than adults were.

In Miami-Dade County, Fla., Alberto M. Carvalho, superintendent of one of the nation’s largest school districts, said his system’s preparation for hurricanes put it at an advantage in preparing for the coronavirus. The district has provided laptops, tablets and smartphones for some students to take home, as well as internet connectivity for some low-income students. Teachers would be asked to assign work remotely and could even teach some high school courses live online.

“I was a bit surprised that it took this long to offer national guidance specifically to school districts,” Mr. Carvalho said of the C.D.C. statement this week.

Many districts have already sent home letters about the coronavirus, asking parents to keep sick children away from school and to remember basic prevention measures such as hand washing, cough covering and vaccination against the flu. They have highlighted C.D.C. advice issued early this month, calling for all travelers returning from China to “self-quarantine” for 14 days.

School officials have often tried to ratchet down panic among parents, reminding families that face masks are not broadly recommended and that the overall risk of infection is low.

But few districts have publicly addressed what would happen to classes in the case of widespread infection and school closings like those that have taken place in China, Italy and Bahrain.

The vast majority of districts have access to broadband internet, but they do not necessarily have expertise in how to effectively organize and teach classes online when schools are shuttered. Further complicating matters, not all families have home computers and high-speed internet. While 90 percent of households with children under 18 had broadband access in 2016, according to federal data, gaps remained along the lines of income, race and education level.

Less affluent families were more likely to depend on smartphones but to lack computers or tablets, which are often needed to fully participate in online learning.

While school districts may not be ready for widespread remote learning, many of the larger districts have had plans for the possibility of pandemics for years, according to Chris Dorn, a school safety consultant with the nonprofit Safe Havens International.

Districts without such plans will need to work with local health agencies to come up with protocols, he said. Among the questions to tackle: Should students at risk for coronavirus who show symptoms at school be transported immediately to hospitals or should they be kept on school grounds until a parent or caretaker can pick them up?

In the San José Unified School District in California, Melinda Landau, who manages school nursing, said the district’s response to flu season would also help in the case of a coronavirus outbreak.

It has ordered additional thermometers and hand-washing lesson kits, which allow nurses to sprinkle powder that glows when exposed to ultraviolet light, demonstrating how thoroughly students have washed their hands and how important simple personal-hygiene measures can be.

The district also asks parents who call their children in sick to describe symptoms. Schools with clusters of sick students are cleaned more deeply with disinfecting products.

There have been no confirmed cases of the coronavirus in the district, Ms. Landau said. Two students returned from trips to China in late January. Their parents voluntarily kept them home from school for a time to monitor their health.

Going forward, the district is waiting to see how the coronavirus progresses, Ms. Landau said.

She added, “We don’t quite know where to move yet.”

Closing schools may not be the best option, especially since children appear to be at lower risk of infection, said Amy Acton, the director of Ohio’s health department. Beyond contingency plans for closing, she said, schools need to consider lining up substitute teachers and planning for absences of other staff members, like cafeteria workers. And Dr. Acton said schools can also play another, more traditional, role: science and health education.

“Schools can be telling families what they can be doing to stay healthy, and we can teach about viruses, and what is a zoonotic disease? Why is it important to get a flu vaccine?” Dr. Acton said. “This is a teachable moment.”

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Jack Healy, Amy Harmon and Sarah Mervosh contributed reporting.

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WELCOME TO THE AGE OF PANDEMICS

We need to stop what drives mass epidemics rather than just respond to individual diseases.

By Peter Daszak, Mr. Daszak is a disease ecologist. | Published Feb. 27, 2020, 5:01 a.m. ET | New York Times | Posted February 27, 2020 |

In early 2018, during a meeting at the World Health Organization in Geneva, a group of experts I belong to (the R&D Blueprint) coined the term “Disease X”: We were referring to the next pandemic, which would be caused by an unknown, novel pathogen that hadn’t yet entered the human population. As the world stands today on the edge of the pandemic precipice, it’s worth taking a moment to consider whether Covid-19 is the disease our group was warning about.

Disease X, we said back then, would likely result from a virus originating in animals and would emerge somewhere on the planet where economic development drives people and wildlife together. Disease X would probably be confused with other diseases early in the outbreak and would spread quickly and silently; exploiting networks of human travel and trade, it would reach multiple countries and thwart containment. Disease X would have a mortality rate higher than a seasonal flu but would spread as easily as the flu. It would shake financial markets even before it achieved pandemic status.

IN A NUTSHELL, COVID-19 IS

DISEASE X.

Even as there are signs that the epidemic’s spread might be slowing in China, multiple communities and countries have now reported sustained transmission in their midst. The number of confirmed cases has exploded in South Korea in recent days. In Italy, villages and towns are on lockdown, Fashion Week in Milan has been disrupted and festivals are being canceled while public health authorities search for patient zero to identify who else is likely infected and may spread the disease in Europe. Iran appears to have become a new hub of transmission. The looming pandemic will challenge us in new ways, as people try to evade quarantines, and misinformation campaigns and conspiracy theorists ply their trade in open democracies.

But as the world struggles to respond to Covid-19, we risk missing the really big picture: Pandemics are on the rise, and we need to contain the process that drives them, not just the individual diseases.

Plagues are not only part of our culture; they are caused by it. The Black Death spread into Europe in the mid-14th century with the growth of trade along the Silk Road. New strains of influenza have emerged from livestock farming. Ebola, SARS, MERS and now Covid-19 have been linked to wildlife. Pandemics usually begin as viruses in animals that jump to people when we make contact with them.

These spillovers are increasing exponentially as our ecological footprint brings us closer to wildlife in remote areas and the wildlife trade brings these animals into urban centers. Unprecedented road-building, deforestation, land clearing and agricultural development, as well as globalized travel and trade, make us supremely susceptible to pathogens like coronaviruses.

Yet the world’s strategy for dealing with pandemics is woefully inadequate. Across the board, from politicians to the public, we treat pandemics as a disaster-response issue: We wait for them to happen and hope a vaccine or drug can be developed quickly in their aftermath. But even as Covid-19 rages, there still is no vaccine available for the SARS virus of 2002-3, nor for HIV/AIDS or Zika or a host of emerging pathogens. The problem is that between outbreaks, the will to spend money on prevention wanes, and the market for vaccines and drugs against sporadic viral diseases isn’t enough to drive research and development.

During its World Health Assembly in 2016, the W.H.O. set up the R&D Blueprint to bridge this gap and announced a priority list of pathogens that most threaten global health and for which no vaccines or drugs were in the pipeline. SARS made the list, as did MERS, Nipah, Ebola and other rare but serious diseases caused by epidemic viruses. The Coalition for Epidemic Preparedness Innovations — a global partnership between public, private, philanthropic and civil society organizations launched at Davos in 2017 — stepped up to the plate and sourced funding to develop vaccines and therapeutics against some of these.

To escape from the Age of Pandemics, we’ll need to treat them as a public health issue and start working on prevention in addition to responses. Our first goal should be to broaden our armory against potential mass epidemics. When some of us added “Disease X” to the W.H.O.’s priority list two years ago, we wanted to make the point that it’s not sufficient to develop vaccines and drugs for known agents when the next big one is likely to be a different pathogen — a virus close to SARS, say, but not close enough that the same vaccine can work against both.

As Covid-19 strikes today and a spate of other pathogens are ready to emerge in the future, we continue to butt up against nature. Scientists estimate that there are 1.67 million unknown viruses of the type that have previously emerged in people. Discovering and sequencing them should be a priority — a simple case of “know your enemy.” In the aftermath of SARS, research on coronaviruses originating in bats has discovered more than 50 related viruses, some of which have the potential to infect people; this information can now be used to test for broad-action vaccines and drugs. Scaling up this effort to cover all viral families, as the Global Virome Project proposes to do, is a logical first step toward prevention.

A radical shift is also needed in the way that tests, vaccines and drugs are designed so that entire groups of pathogens are targeted instead of individual pathogens that are already known. The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases in the United States is working on a universal flu vaccine that would cover all known strains of influenza; a universal coronavirus vaccine, an Ebola-virus vaccine and others will also be needed.

With a smaller investment, we can also try to get ahead of pandemics by working with communities in hot spots of emerging diseases. Disease surveillance should be focused on farmers, rural communities and anyone who has extensive contact with wildlife, to look for unusual illnesses, test for novel pathogens and work with people to develop alternatives to high-risk activities such as the wildlife trade.

Pandemics are like terrorist attacks: We know roughly where they originate and what’s responsible for them, but we don’t know exactly when the next one will happen. They need to be handled the same way — by identifying all possible sources and dismantling those before the next pandemic strikes.

_____

Peter Daszak is a disease ecologist and the president of EcoHealth Alliance, in New York.

**********

[old-hallowmas]

The Catholic History of Halloween

We’ve all heard the allegation: Halloween is a pagan rite dating back to some pre-Christian festival among the Celtic Druids that escaped church suppression. Even today modern pagans and witches continue to celebrate this ancient festival. If you let your kids go trick-or-treating, they will be worshiping the devil and pagan gods.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The origins of Halloween are, in fact, very Christian and rather American. Halloween falls on October 31 because of a pope, and its observances are the result of medieval Catholic piety.

It’s true that the ancient Celts of Ireland and Britain celebrated a minor festival on October 31–as they did on the last day of most other months of the year. However, Halloween falls on the last day of October because the Solemnity of All Saints, or “All Hallows,” falls on November 1. The feast in honor of all the saints in heaven used to be celebrated on May 13, but Pope Gregory III (d. 741) moved it to November 1, the dedication day of All Saints Chapel in St. Peter’s at Rome. Later, in the 840s, Pope Gregory IV commanded that All Saints be observed everywhere. And so the holy day spread to Ireland.

The day before was the feast’s evening vigil, “All Hallows Even,” or “Hallowe’en.” In those days Halloween didn’t have any special significance for Christians or for long-dead Celtic pagans.

In 998, St. Odilo, the abbot of the powerful monastery of Cluny in southern France, added a celebration on November 2. This was a day of prayer for the souls of all the faithful departed. This feast, called All Souls Day, spread from France to the rest of Europe.

So now the Church had feasts for all those in heaven and all those in purgatory. What about those in the other place? It seems Irish Catholic peasants wondered about the unfortunate souls in hell. After all, if the souls in hell are left out when we celebrate those in heaven and purgatory, they might be unhappy enough to cause trouble. So it became customary to bang pots and pans on All Hallows Even to let the damned know they were not forgotten. Thus, in Ireland at least, all the dead came to be remembered–even if the clergy were not terribly sympathetic to Halloween and never allowed All Damned Day into the church calendar.

But that still isn’t our celebration of Halloween. Our traditions on this holiday center on dressing up in fanciful costumes, which isn’t Irish at all. Rather, this custom arose in France during the 14th and 15th centuries. Late medieval Europe was hit by repeated outbreaks of the bubonic plague–the Black Death–and it lost about half its population. It is not surprising that Catholics became more concerned about the afterlife.

More Masses were said on All Souls Day, and artistic representations were devised to remind everyone of their own mortality. We know these representations as the “danse macabre”, or “dance of death,” which was commonly painted on the walls of cemeteries and shows the devil leading a daisy chain of people–popes, kings, ladies, knights, monks, peasants, lepers, etc.–into the tomb. Sometimes the dance was presented on All Souls Day itself as a living tableau with people dressed up in the garb of various states of life.

But the French dressed up on All Souls, not Halloween; and the Irish, who had Halloween, did not dress up. How the two became mingled probably happened first in the British colonies of North America during the 1700s, when Irish and French Catholics began to intermarry. The Irish focus on Hell gave the French masquerades an even more macabre twist.

But as every young ghoul knows, dressing up isn’t the point; the point is getting as many goodies as possible. Where on earth did “trick or treat” come in? “Treat or treat” is perhaps the oddest and most American addition to Halloween and is the unwilling contribution of English Catholics.

During the penal period of the 1500s to the 1700s in England, Catholics had no legal rights. They could not hold office and were subject to fines, jail and heavy taxes. It was a capital offense to say Mass, and hundreds of priests were martyred.

Occasionally, English Catholics resisted, sometimes foolishly. One of the most foolish acts of resistance was a plot to blow up the Protestant King James I and his Parliament with gunpowder. This was supposed to trigger a Catholic uprising against the oppressors. The ill-conceived Gunpowder Plot was foiled on November 5, 1605, when the man guarding the gunpowder, a reckless convert named Guy Fawkes, was captured and arrested. He was hanged; the plot fizzled.

November 5, Guy Fawkes Day, became a great celebration in England, and so it remains. During the penal periods, bands of revelers would put on masks and visit local Catholics in the dead of night, demanding beer and cakes for their celebration: trick or treat!

Guy Fawkes Day arrived in the American colonies with the first English settlers. But by the time of the American Revolution, old King James and Guy Fawkes had pretty much been forgotten. Trick or treat, though, was too much fun to give up, so eventually it moved to October 31, the day of the Irish-French masquerade. And in America, trick or treat wasn’t limited to Catholics.

The mixture of various immigrant traditions we know as Halloween had become a fixture in the United States by the early 1800s. To this day, it remains unknown in Europe, even in the countries from which some of the customs originated.

But what about witches? Well, they are one of the last additions. The greeting card industry added them in the late 1800s. Halloween was already “ghoulish,” so why not give witches a place on greeting cards? The Halloween card failed (although it has seen a recent resurgence in popularity), but the witches stayed.

So too, in the late 1800s, ill-informed folklorists introduced the jack-o’-lantern. They thought that Halloween was Druidic and pagan in origin. Lamps made from turnips (not pumpkins) had been part of ancient Celtic harvest festivals, so they were translated to the American Halloween celebration.

The next time someone claims that Halloween is a cruel trick to lure your children into devil worship, I suggest you tell them the real origin of All Hallows Eve and invite them to discover its Christian significance, along with the two greater and more important Catholic festivals that follow it.

[tracyk13]

36 and what a world I have seen

Honestly I’ve been terrible at journalling lately. Love handwriting in quill and ink style, but my current life leaves me exhausted after work and most of my time spent in education. But currently the Covid-19 pandemic made me consider the important world events I have witnessed. 

Born in 1984 I lived in a world of rapidly changing technology but still being forced outside to play. We always had an Apple computer in our house for as long as I can remember. Played the Oregon Trail in black and white, then in color. That was the standard computer game of my childhood. Mom got us Mario Teaches Typing, probably the only “video game” I ever played at that point. AOL was a thing. All those CDs in the mail with updates. I never really got into it, but my twin sister did.

Also a child of the Disney Golden Age of animation. Dramatically influenced my life to the point I went to work for Walt Disney World after college. Still a Disney fanatic to this day. 

Apparently my family visited Yellowstone National park (age 4? too young to remember anyway) then not too long after the park had the fire. 

Was alive though not conscious of world events when the Berlin Wall fell. Watch the birth of CNN during the first Desert Storm when my dad was there overseeing some of the first drone flights. The military required a pilot on hand for those flights. He told us later how some Iraqis would surrender to the drone plane, not that it was ever one of the ones he supervised. And according to my mom I frequently asked to NOT watch the 24 hour stream of news because it was too depressing and I knew that’s where dad was. 

Really started to pay attention to news (not that l enjoyed it but that’s the timeline for how chidden develop) during the O.J. Simpson trial. 

By that point I had lived on both coasts of the USA, crossed country twice, lived in many different environments from Washington’s cold wet seasons to California’s deserts California’s coast to landlocked suburbia of Georgia. 

Where I learned to drive, had a single Nokia phone for me and my twin in our tiny Cabrio convertible (I hate convertibles). Got a personal computer for the first time, where before it was a single family computer. The iMacs were coming out right when we were heading to college. My sister got the desktop, I got the laptop and have never looked back. Still have my gumstick shuffle iPod floating around and it still works.

Got to watch the insanity of Indecision 2000 and appreciate political humor for the first time.

I’ve been to 9 different schools for 12 years of school, not including college. That would make it ten. Was a freshman in high school when the Columbine shootings happened. Some weeks later we had a pipe bomb threat at our school which forced all the students out to the football field. From the top of the bleachers we could see the bomb squad and their dogs entering the school. All I could think of was if someone really wanted to kill at lot of people, there on the bleachers would be the place to do it. Then at some point in my adult life someone did it at a movie theater showing The Dark Knight. 

Saw the images of the Oklahoma City bombing. Heard about the Unabomber. Watched the Waco Texas incident.

But my senior year was the time of 9/11. My math class was out in the hallway doing a math related science type experiment, can’t tell you what it was. But that day was the only day I have ever heard a school of nearly 5,000 students absolutely silent during class change. Thus Desert Storm part two happened. 

Right before I headed off to college. So I wasn’t super savvy about applying to colleges. I only applied to one. Didn’t have a clue as to what I wanted to do with my life. I’ve done a wide variety of sports, been writing fiction since at least 10 years old, drew and painted fairly well, thought about doing animation or architecture (did a semester learning thing with a local firm, decided it wasn’t for me). 

Ended up getting a degree in two foreign languages but not fluent in either. It did greatly improve my understanding of the English language. And I had the privilege of an exchange program for a school year to Japan, plus of study abroad summer to Germany. Would never regret any of that. Even if it didn’t get me a degree that got me a job. 

Instead I went to Disney World as part of their internship program. Been in foods and hospitality for a significant portion of my life (thus far). Loved working there. Got to work with the Characters and it was fabulous. Even with the frustrations of all work environments. 

But it couldn’t last. Minimum wage was raised, but the cost of living out stripped the earnings for a single person living alone. Prompting a move back home with parents to get another degree. Then the Housing bubble burst, loans defaulted, mortgage crisis, resulting in the Great Recession. It did get me a house in my name but basically an income property for my mom as her inheritance from my grandmother. All the while I’m going to school to be a nurse.

Now let’s not forget about the many weather crises I’ve witnessed via the news. Hurricanes Katrina, Sandy, Harvey, Maria to name the ones I easily remember. The Class 5 tornado that wiped out a midwestern town. The volcano in Iceland rerouting planes. The tsunami in Indonesia and Sumatra. The massive earthquake in Haiti. These are only the ones that easily come to mind without researching what happened during the years I’ve been alive.

Not to mention the diseases that I’ve seen via the news. First to mind was the Ebola outbreak while I was in nursing school. Saw the hype on the Swine Flue, SARS, Avian flu to name a few easily remembered. Those never reached me personally. Now it’s Covid-19 unfolding. Called SARS-CoV-19 now, but that later.

But its not all disasters. Went to the Atlanta Centennial Olympics still have the t-shirt. Was alive during the first black president. 

Took part in the massive phenomena that was Harry Potter and still love it to this day. It showed me that fiction/fantasy could be a mainstream genre to write for. I started writing FanFiction at that time to fill in the long spaces between books. Started when fan fiction.net had the 7or 8 main characters to choose from for tagging. It was like the Wild West of figuring out what you were about to read. Learned about Slash, yaoi, lemons and such the hard way. But being exposed to it that way did open my eyes to what goes on in other people’s heads. Knew immediately that just because I didn’t like something didn't mean I had to hate on it. I left it alone once found and kept going. Really helped increase my tolerance to other cultures and thoughts.

Met my best friend on a role playing site and we wrote nonstop during our college years. Went to her wedding, have a lovely Renaissance style dress as a bridesmaid gift. Still am in touch with her. We don’t write together any more as we have moved in our lives with adulting. But I still have all those stories and hope to turn them into something.

Had my first camera cell phone in Japan as just a basic free phone. Was shocked to find cameras in the States were not standard. One of my friends in Japan kept doing selfies before they were called selfies. Blind positioning of the camera for pictures. Then came the iPhone and the world never looked back.

Joined Facebook when it required a college email. Used MSN messenger and Yahoo messenger to communicate with people around the world. Didn’t join the Twitter or Tumblr movement until after they became established. Saw the boom and bust of the Dot.Com bubble. Watched the Dow Jones numbers increase without the income to invest the way they said to.

Lived right above the poverty line during the Recession. Not knowing if I could make it the next month. Never being able to claim poverty on the tax forms. Caught in the income dead space of not being able to afford health insurance from the markets but in a state that didn’t allow for Medicaid expansion.

But I do not have the worry now thankfully. 

Jobs wise I’ve been a telemarketer, dishwasher, a line cook, a hostess, server, janitor, assistant manager, and now I’m a nurse. I started on med/surg, ED, Cardiac, and ICU. In a small rural hospital getting smaller in a time when rural were shutting down because of no funding. They serve areas with a high rates of unemployment, uninsured, drug and alcohol abuse.

Worked at a busier hospital were no bed was left empty. Sicker patients. Work in a mid-size place. Some days super busy, some slower. 

Covid-19 had the affect of somehow doing both. First few days was almost empty, now it fluctuates. Mostly rule outs. And the protocols are changing hourly which makes life frustrating for us. It’s the constant unspoken threat of going into work not knowing if you’ll have the right equipment to do the job. I’m not scared of the virus itself, not even of the collapse of the economy. I’m scared of the surge that will put my coworkers at risk.

I live alone (my little sister lives with me now) so very little contact with others. But they have kids and a much closer physical distance to their older parents. I know I will add days to my weeks if they have to stay out for any length of time. 

So this is the first time a world event as truly affected me. It is a terrifying time which prompted this summary of my life so far.

I went into a restaurant and saw no one. I never thought I’d see that day. I don’t want people to loose their income, but if people were to go about their daily activities we would loose so many in one go. All I can do is my job.

The more I watch the more depressed and stressed. At work is worse.

I’m teaching myself a new craft because of this. I have taken up leather working to make masks. It helps the creativity outlet. I started drawing class early in 2020 and was set to continue drawing and add painting when the social distancing started. I admit it felt overblown in the beginning. Now the numbers are changing rapidly and we are really seeing what happens in close communities. Just keep working. It’s part of life now. No matter how much if feels like a movie plot line.

But back to other things I’ve seen.

LGTBQA and others coming into the forefront of society. Saw legalization of gay marriage. Quite thrilled with that.

Didn’t hear the term Asexual in reference to a sexual preference until my early 20s. Immediately recognized similar stories to me. Never had an interest in sex or having a partner. A name did make things more relatable, but I will never fully understand people who seem to base their entire existence on their sexual preference.

I’ve been call sir many times based on how I dress. I still sound like a female. Can’t fault anyone for using the appropriate pronoun for what they see in front of them. But that’s a culture that’s growing. Preferred pronouns. But I have to admit that an online friend referred to me as “they” despite a lady being in my username and it felt nice. So in honor of the Special Snowflake term that floated around, I’m an nonbinary aromantic asexual. Probably with a fem-romanitic leaning. 

Saw the rise of the Millennials. I’m caught between Gen X and the Millennials. Now that all the Millennials are of age to vote, perhaps change is underway?

I’m back in college for my 3rd and then 4th degree. In nursing. Online. Watching the world combat a virus.

A US that is split down the middle politically. A world with more pollution problems than we can handle. Governments preferring to coverup mistakes and corruption than help their citizens. The term Public Servant is obviously not taken seriously in some places. See Flint, MI and their water. Lobbyists creating bills that benefit corporations rather than people. Politicians that never retire and keep getting lucrative reelection donations from those very corporations. 

The rise of narcotic drug use, prescription drugs. Pill mills. 

Sex scandals taking center stage in the news rather than things that actually affect daily life. Among things I will never understand is the fear of Transgender women in the women’s restrooms when it was always a straight conservative man who was the center of all these sex scandals. 

Asexual brain at work. I simply do not understand. Conclusion: If you look like a certain gender, you’ll most often be treated as that gender.

What I do miss were the kid shows and cartoons in the 90s. They were super progressive with great literature themes. I knew the story of some of the greatest classic literature simply by the references in those shows. 

Also the era of War on Drug commercials. Recycling promoted. 

My favorite: Captain Planet. Not only was it pushing for a cleaner earth it had different nationalities. Stereotypical, but a far better representation than what I am seeing in kids shows today. It was diverse in that multiple skin tones were seen on screen together rather than specific skin tones marketed to that specific demographic. Now I do like how many more cultures are represented, I just want them shown in ways where color and culture is not the primary focus. 

It also surged a desire to protect the planet. The knowledge that we need clean water and air. Educational shows like Magic School Bus and Bill Nye explained what is happening in the environment long before Global Warming became political. With the global shut in we see the world cleansing itself. 

Now the marijuana legalization issue. No one has died from overdosing on weed. Unlike Alcohol. Yes smoke isn’t good for your health like cigarettes, but the complications are not as prevalent, well studied, or as life threatening with what is known. The disconnect of state legalization and national illegalities is mind blowing. I hope to see that break so we can study it.

Overall I know I have seen a lot of historical events and I hope to live another 36 plus years to see more. 3 decades, the change of a century and the change of the millennia. Y2K hysteria included. 

The world is changing. The outcome is unknown. Peace be upon us all.

[momtemplative]

MASKED.

1.

In a house with two young kids, our quickest sanity-stabilizer in this COVID era was to head outside and go for a walk, or a bike ride, or to roller skate. We’d pay close attention to the proximity of passers-by, but typically the grassy fields by the bike paths were an open canvas for the kids to blow off some steam. And we’d all return home a bit winded and slightly more stable. 

Then, a little more than two weeks ago, a strong recommendation came from Governor Polis for everyone to wear masks in public. But what, pray-tell, was “public” referring to? 

Here’s what the CDC endorsed: wearing cloth face coverings in public settings where other social distancing measures are difficult to maintain (e.g., grocery stores and pharmacies) especially in areas of significant community-based transmission.

So that’s what we assumed Polis recommended as well. That night we even had a happy hour gathering with our neighbors, all at least 6-feet-away, but without masks. We didn’t feel like we were being sneaky or non-compliant, we were simply following the guidelines as we understood them. 

But then we started seeing people in their yards wearing masks, and on walks wearing masks— in addition to 6-feet! There was an eerie infiltration of mask-wearers, and, with that, the non-verbal communication of an abrupt change of protocol. Our sacred, oft-traveled, 1,000-step bike path that loops around the block started to feel unfamiliar, as if it were a movie set peppered with strangers, wearing homemade cloth curtains over their cheeks. 

We quickly felt like a minority out there with our bare faces.

2.

An afternoon walk was once a favorite time of day—quarantine or not. Quickly though, in light of the current mask situation, and before I began to wear one, my brain started to get stuck in a grinding pattern of managing everyone else’s whereabouts in accordance with my own. I noticed that I was judging those who were masked, at least in part because I was sure they were judging me. 

Their judgment and my judgment felt cut from the same cloth: judgement as a way of controlling the uncontrollable. There is so much confusion about protocols. So much fear of the radio broadcast of white noise and speculation that is to be our future. All these feelings get lumped together into just trying to do it right. I returned from one particular walk stiff as a board and deeply grumpy.

“Jesse,” I said, “I’m not going on a walk again without a mask.”

3.

I opted out of any domestic sewing of masks at first, and started with my old-lady cardigan tied around my face like a waist. I then upgraded to a bedazzled bandana that I bought to fill Opal’s Easter basket last year. I love the happy fabric, but it wouldn’t stay up over my nose for anything beyond the liquor drive-through (my singular biweekly errand). Store-bought masks are not an option. They’ve been back-ordered for weeks and if the stock is replenished, it needs to be saved for the blessed healthcare workers.

By the next weekend, Jesse and Opal wore masks that they made from a YouTube video, using mustard-yellow t-shirts and rubber bands, while on a bike ride. That ride turned out to be very brief because, according to Opal, it was so hard to breathe. 

4.

The solidarity and confidence that come from wearing a mask are helpful and significant, sure. But the act of wearing a mask changes the experience entirely. 

On a purely physical level, it muddles your peripheral vision, steams up your glasses, makes it hot and very hard to breathe. 

On a social-emotional level, the masks create a real separation between people. It feels similar to being at a costume party—even if the invite list includes most of your friends, everyone is suddenly anonymous. 

I walked behind two people (in masks) and a dog from a block away that I thought were my beloved next door neighbors. I even hollered at them. (They didn't hear me.) Then I got closer and realized it was a different dog and very much not my neighbors. It’s all very disorienting.  

5.

One week in, and Opal has taken Polis’s suggestion as gospel. Of course, I don’t blame her. Sometimes when we are out and about, so is the rest of the neighborhood. During those times, the mask feels safe and dare-I-say comforting. (Like we are good, complaint citizens. Go us.) But other times, there is nobody outside. I tell Opal, “Sweetie, we can keep our masks around our chins until we see someone (dozens of feet away!) and then put up our masks.” 

Opal’s reply: NOT A CHANCE.

I try to imagine what it would be like to experience all this at age ten. What other such details has her system become accustomed to over the last month? Zoom call playdates, online school, little sister around all-the-effing-time. Maybe some feelings come out sideways? Maybe everything seems overwhelming and busy even though very little is happening?

In the olden days, before COVID, any sort of outdoor trek was soul-nourishing for all of us. It ticks a lot of boxes: sunshine, fresh air, exercise for me and the dog and the kids, a brain reset. Now, masked, such an activity is beyond taxing. Ruth has no desire to keep her mask on and she’s a runner. We can bribe her with a lollipop to stay in the stroller, but the girth of the BOB, along with the leashed (80-pound) dog requires skill and intentional footing on an average day. Trying to juggle it all through a face-drape is the emotional equivalent of walking through tar. A guaranteed headache.

Returning to our backyard, with its creaky swingset and patchwork yard, and removing our masks (along with the associated invisible constraints) is beyond restorative.

“That’s the best part about a mask,” Opal said. “Taking it off and having the air taste so fresh and cold again.”

6.

On Sunday morning—a few days ago and two solid weeks into the mask-in-public rules of conduct—the kids were scattered on the floor watching Frozen while I folded laundry and Jesse tinkered away at the sewing machine. Project: to sew face-masks that fit each of us properly. It was a lovely scene of the times. I would imagine Norman Rockwell painting such an episode if he were alive during COVID. A family of four (plus cat, plus dog) in their natural weekend habitat. Slow to dress, sipping juice or coffee, and, sewing face masks.

“Ruth,” Jesse said, “Come on over here and try this on to see if it fits.” Ruth scurried over to him to try on her mask like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, I walked our dog wearing the mask Jesse so lovingly crafted for me (after three fittings). It was exquisite, hands-free, spacious around the mouth. He even used the sweetest yellow-petal, summer dress fabric. When I returned, I kissed him straight through the mask.

7.

In spite of a good fit, it still takes exponentially more effort to greet someone while masked—you have to yell or over-gesture to compensate for the fact that both of your faces are completely erased. Because we wear ours primarily outside, most people are in sunglasses with their masks. But if not, they are far enough away where eye-reading is not an option. It’s all a straight-up guessing game.

More often than not, for the sake of simplicity, it’s just me and the dog these days. Typically, I have my dog’s leash in my left hand, and a steamy bag of his shit in my right that gets carried for countless unpleasant blocks. This is due to the lack of public trash facilities on the neighborhood routes I find are easier to navigate within the guidelines of 6-feet-between. Bike paths are pretty tight if there isn’t open space to veer off on either side. And now I’ve got my mask on, and fogged-up sunglasses. The uniform is similar to that of someone on Halloween in a last-minute ghost-sheet costume, with just the eyes cut out, cobbling along with both hands full. This is not a “path is the journey” sort of moment. I’m lucky if I can twitch out a head-nod or an elbow-wave to a passer-by.

It feels important to counteract the separation that has become synonymous with health and life. But I’d be lying if I said I was able to muster a greeting every time.

8.

In our culture, masks (when not worn in a medical setting) often represent sinister actions—bandits or bank robbers or the KKK who want to hide defining features.

For many Asian countries, mask-wearing was a cultural norm even before the coronavirus outbreak. In East Asia, many people are used to wearing masks when they are sick or when it's hayfever season, because it's considered impolite to sneeze or cough in public.

The 2003 Sars virus outbreak, which affected several countries in the region, also drove home the importance of wearing masks, particularly in Hong Kong, where many died as a result of the virus. Says the BBC news: “One key difference between these societies and Western ones, is that they have experienced a contagion before—and the memories are still fresh and painful.”

I recently read a story about two black men who were wearing masks at Walmart—fully in compliance and trying to keep themselves safe—when they were accosted by police. It hit me like a whip how individualized each of us are experiencing this pandemic. I skoff at my mask because it’s a pain-in-the-ass. But I’ll never be faced with also having to weigh the risks of racial profiling.

Delving further, I read that to-mask-or-not-to-mask has become a way to take a political stance. Trump supporters carrying “My body, My choice” signs, with an illustration of a crossed-out mask—this is a common image to see in the media right now.

The Washington Post said: “Even as governors, mayors and the federal government urge or require Americans to wear masks in stores, transit systems and other public spaces to contain the spread of the novel coronavirus, the nation is divided about whether to comply. And it is divided in painfully familiar ways — by politics and by attitudes about government power and individual choice.”

So, clearly, it is about so much more than just a mask.  

9.  

This just in. 

In a press conference that took place a few days ago, April 20th, Governor Jared Polis and state epidemiologist Dr. Rachel Herlihy outlined how life may change in Colorado as soon as next week, when “shelter-in-place” shifts to “safer-at-home.” They are essentially the same, just with a select few businesses opening with strict distancing rules and incremental shifts toward less physical distancing over all. Polis mentions nothing different about mask-wearing. Meaning, still wear them in public, especially if you can’t get 6-feet-between, especially if you’ve been exposed or have symptoms.

I noticed an immediate difference on my walk following his announcement. There was a family of four playing frisbee in an open space without masks! My initial feeling was wait, WTF? (And yes, I realize we are living in a strange state of affairs for my initial reaction to a beautiful family frolicking in a field to be contempt.) There was a man throwing a ball for his dog in a park that still had many visible CLOSED signs—also NO MASK. (Again, WTF??) I then gave a wide, grassy birth to a group of mask-free bike riders. 

I notice my mask feels more like a burden on my face without the unifying solidarity of everyone doing it. We all seem to be getting different memos.

There’s a huge relief that people are back to having faces, to be sure. I miss people. I love faces. But I have to admit that in spite of my hemming and hawing, I’d gotten used to feeling protected. It’s impossible to make sense of any of it. Even little Ruth came in yesterday and gave a tiny cough. “I’m sick,” she said, “Since I didn’t wear a mask today.” 

Circling back to the facts, the only thing worth grasping at right now, I am challenged to find any bit of news to suggest that our household need to be wearing masks while out on walks—under any level of regulation thus far. Neither Jesse nor myself are working outside of the house. We don’t visit with friends or family. (Big sigh.* We miss everyone terribly.) The odds of us being silent carriers are beyond slim. We are not immuno-compromised. So wearing masks these last few weeks—while still on socially distanced walks—could probably be categorized as an act of cultural alignment, an act of doing everything we can for the cause. 

As of right now, this moment, I do not see our mask-wearing as being impactful to our macro OR micro community. So, for the sake of preserving the sanity of our tiny culture for the long haul, I vote that we wear our beautifully-Jesse-crafted masks on our chins, like flattened feathers at the ready. 

“As it (the “safer-at-home” regulations) rolls off April 27, we need to figure out how to run the marathon now that we’ve run the sprint,” Governor Polis said in his most recent press conference. “I hate to break it to you, but the easy part was the sprint.”

[yasbxxgie]

How the Red Cross Raised Half a Billion Dollars for Haiti ­and Built Six Homes Even as the group has publicly celebrated its work, insider accounts detail a string of failures

The neighborhood of Campeche sprawls up a steep hillside in Haiti’s capital city, Port-au-Prince. Goats rustle in trash that goes forever uncollected. Children kick a deflated volleyball in a dusty lot below a wall with a hand-painted logo of the American Red Cross.

In late 2011, the Red Cross launched a multimillion-dollar project to transform the desperately poor area, which was hit hard by the earthquake that struck Haiti the year before. The main focus of the project — called LAMIKA, an acronym in Creole for “A Better Life in My Neighborhood” — was building hundreds of permanent homes.

Today, not one home has been built in Campeche. Many residents live in shacks made of rusty sheet metal, without access to drinkable water, electricity or basic sanitation. When it rains, their homes flood and residents bail out mud and water.

The Red Cross received an outpouring of donations after the quake, nearly half a billion dollars.

The group has publicly celebrated its work. But in fact, the Red Cross has repeatedly failed on the ground in Haiti. Confidential memos, emails from worried top officers, and accounts of a dozen frustrated and disappointed insiders show the charity has broken promises, squandered donations, and made dubious claims of success.

The Red Cross says it has provided homes to more than 130,000 people. But the actual number of permanent homes the group has built in all of Haiti: six.

After the earthquake, Red Cross CEO Gail McGovern unveiled ambitious plans to “develop brand-new communities.” None has ever been built.

Aid organizations from around the world have struggled after the earthquake in Haiti, the Western Hemisphere’s poorest country. But ProPublica and NPR’s investigation shows that many of the Red Cross’s failings in Haiti are of its own making. They are also part of a larger pattern in which the organization has botched delivery of aid after disasters such as Superstorm Sandy. Despite its difficulties, the Red Cross remains the charity of choice for ordinary Americans and corporations alike after natural disasters.

One issue that has hindered the Red Cross’ work in Haiti is an overreliance on foreigners who could not speak French or Creole, current and former employees say.

In a blistering 2011 memo, the then-director of the Haiti program, Judith St. Fort, wrote that the group was failing in Haiti and that senior managers had made “very disturbing” remarks disparaging Haitian employees. St. Fort, who is Haitian American, wrote that the comments included, “he is the only hard working one among them” and “the ones that we have hired are not strong so we probably should not pay close attention to Haitian CVs.”

The Red Cross won’t disclose details of how it has spent the hundreds of millions of dollars donated for Haiti. But our reporting shows that less money reached those in need than the Red Cross has said.

Lacking the expertise to mount its own projects, the Red Cross ended up giving much of the money to other groups to do the work. Those groups took out a piece of every dollar to cover overhead and management. Even on the projects done by others, the Red Cross had its own significant expenses – in one case, adding up to a third of the project’s budget.

In statements, the Red Cross cited the challenges all groups have faced in post-quake Haiti, including the country’s dysfunctional land title system.

“Like many humanitarian organizations responding in Haiti, the American Red Cross met complications in relation to government coordination delays, disputes over land ownership, delays at Haitian customs, challenges finding qualified staff who were in short supply and high demand, and the cholera outbreak, among other challenges,” the charity said.

The group said it responded quickly to internal concerns, including hiring an expert to train staff on cultural competency after St. Fort’s memo. While the group won’t provide a breakdown of its projects, the Red Cross said it has done more than 100. The projects include repairing 4,000 homes, giving several thousand families temporary shelters, donating $44 million for food after the earthquake, and helping fund the construction of a hospital.

“Millions of Haitians are safer, healthier, more resilient, and better prepared for future disasters thanks to generous donations to the American Red Cross,” McGovern wrote in a recent report marking the fifth anniversary of the earthquake.

In other promotional materials, the Red Cross said it has helped “more than 4.5 million” individual Haitians “get back on their feet.”

It has not provided details to back up the claim. And Jean-Max Bellerive, Haiti’s prime minister at the time of the earthquake, doubts the figure, pointing out the country’s entire population is only about 10 million.

“No, no,” Bellerive said of the Red Cross’ claim, “it’s not possible.”

When the earthquake struck Haiti in January 2010, the Red Cross was facing a crisis of its own. McGovern had become chief executive just 18 months earlier, inheriting a deficit and an organization that had faced scandals after 9/11 and Katrina.

Inside the Red Cross, the Haiti disaster was seen as “a spectacular fundraising opportunity,” recalled one former official who helped organize the effort. Michelle Obama, the NFL and a long list of celebrities appealed for donations to the group.

The Red Cross kept soliciting money well after it had enough for the emergency relief that is the group’s stock in trade. Doctors Without Borders, in contrast, stopped fundraising off the earthquake after it decided it had enough money. The donations to the Red Cross helped the group erase its more-than $100 million deficit.

The Red Cross ultimately raised far more than any other charity.

A year after the quake, McGovern announced that the Red Cross would use the donations to make a lasting impact in Haiti.

We asked the Red Cross to show us around its projects in Haiti so we could see the results of its work. It declined. So earlier this year we went to Campeche to see one of the group’s signature projects for ourselves.

Street vendors in the dusty neighborhood immediately pointed us to Jean Jean Flaubert, the head of a community group that the Red Cross set up as a local sounding board.

Sitting with us in their sparse one-room office, Flaubert and his colleagues grew angry talking about the Red Cross. They pointed to the lack of progress in the neighborhood and the healthy salaries paid to expatriate aid workers.

“What the Red Cross told us is that they are coming here to change Campeche. Totally change it,” said Flaubert. “Now I do not understand the change that they are talking about. I think the Red Cross is working for themselves.”

The Red Cross’ initial plan said the focus would be building homes — an internal proposal put the number at 700. Each would have finished floors, toilets, showers, even rainwater collection systems. The houses were supposed to be finished in January 2013.

None of that ever happened. Carline Noailles, who was the project’s manager in Washington, said it was endlessly delayed because the Red Cross “didn’t have the know-how.”

Another former official who worked on the Campeche project said, “Everything takes four times as long because it would be micromanaged from DC, and they had no development experience.”

Shown an English-language press release from the Red Cross website, Flaubert was stunned to learn of the project’s $24 million budget — and that it is due to end next year.

“Not only is [the Red Cross] not doing it,” Flaubert said, “now I’m learning that the Red Cross is leaving next year. I don’t understand that.” (The Red Cross says it did tell community leaders about the end date. It also accused us of “creating ill will in the community which may give rise to a security incident.”)

The project has since been reshaped and downscaled. A road is being built. Some existing homes have received earthquake reinforcement and a few schools are being repaired. Some solar street lights have been installed, though many broke and residents say others are unreliable.

The group’s most recent press release on the project cites achievements such as training school children in disaster response.

The Red Cross said it has to scale back its housing plans because it couldn’t acquire the rights to land. No homes will be built.

Other Red Cross infrastructure projects also fizzled.

In January 2011, McGovern announced a $30 million partnership with the U.S. Agency for International Development, or USAID. The agency would build roads and other infrastructure in at least two locations where the Red Cross would build new homes.

But it took more than two and a half years, until August 2013, for the Red Cross just to sign an agreement with USAID on the program, and even that was for only one site. The program was ultimately canceled because of a land dispute.

A Government Accountability Office report attributed the severe delays to problems “in securing land title and because of turnover in Red Cross leadership” in its Haiti program.

Other groups also ran into trouble with land titles and other issues. But they also ultimately built 9,000 homes compared to the Red Cross’ six.

Asked about the Red Cross’ housing projects in Haiti, David Meltzer, the group’s general counsel and chief international officer, said changing conditions forced changes in plans. “If we had said, ‘All we’re going to do is build new homes,’ we’d still be looking for land,” he said.

The USAID project’s collapse left the Red Cross grasping for ways to spend money earmarked for it.

“Any ideas on how to spend the rest of this?? (Besides the wonderful helicopter idea?),” McGovern wrote to Meltzer in a November 2013 email obtained by ProPublica and NPR. “Can we fund Conrad’s hospital? Or more to PiH[Partners in Health]? Any more shelter projects?”

It’s not clear what helicopter idea McGovern was referring to or if it was ever carried out. The Red Cross would say only that her comments were “grounded in the American Red Cross’ strategy and priorities, which focus on health and housing.”

Another signature project, known in Creole as “A More Resilient Great North,” is supposed to rehabilitate roads in poor, rural communities and to help them get clean water and sanitation.

But two years after it started, the $13 million effort has been faltering badly. An internal evaluation from March found residents were upset because nothing had been done to improve water access or infrastructure or to make “contributions of any sort to the well being of households,” the report said.

So much bad feeling built up in one area that the population “rejects the project.”

Instead of making concrete improvements to living conditions, the Red Cross has launched hand-washing education campaigns. The internal evaluation noted that these were “not effective when people had no access to water and no soap.” (The Red Cross declined to comment on the project.)

The group’s failures went beyond just infrastructure.

When a cholera epidemic raged through Haiti nine months after the quake, the biggest part of the Red Cross’ response — a plan to distribute soap and oral rehydration salts — was crippled by “internal issues that go unaddressed,” wrote the director of the Haiti program in her May 2011 memo.

Throughout that year, cholera was a steady killer. By September 2011, when the death toll had surpassed 6,000, the project was still listed as “very behind schedule” according to another internal document.

The Red Cross said in a statement that its cholera response, including a vaccination campaign, has continued for years and helped millions of Haitians.

But while other groups also struggled early responding to cholera, some performed well.

“None of these people had to die. That’s what upsets me,” said Paul Christian Namphy, a Haitian water and sanitation official who helped lead the effort to fight cholera. He says early failures by the Red Cross and other NGOs had a devastating impact. “These numbers should have been zero.”

***

So why did the Red Cross’ efforts fall so short? It wasn’t just that Haiti is a hard place to work.

“They collected nearly half a billion dollars,” said a congressional staffer who helped oversee Haiti reconstruction. “But they had a problem. And the problem was that they had absolutely no expertise.”

Lee Malany was in charge of the Red Cross’ shelter program in Haiti starting in 2010. He remembers a meeting in Washington that fall where officials did not seem to have any idea how to spend millions of dollars set aside for housing. Malany says the officials wanted to know which projects would generate good publicity, not which projects would provide the most homes.

“When I walked out of that meeting I looked at the people that I was working with and said, ‘You know this is very disconcerting, this is depressing,’” he recalled.

The Red Cross said in a statement its Haiti program has never put publicity over delivering aid.

Malany resigned the next year from his job in Haiti. “I said there’s no reason for me to stay here. I got on the plane and left.”

Sometimes it wasn’t a matter of expertise, but whether anybody was filling key jobs. An April 2012 organizational chart obtained by ProPublica and NPR lists 9 of 30 leadership positions in Haiti as vacant, including slots for experts on health and shelter.

The Red Cross said vacancies and turnover were inevitable because of “the security situation, separation from family for international staff, and the demanding nature of the work.”

The constant upheaval took a toll. Internal documents refer to repeated attempts over years to “finalize” and “complete” a strategic plan for the Haiti program, efforts that were delayed by changes in senior management. As late as March 2014, more than four years into a six-year program, an internal update cites a “revised strategy” still awaiting “final sign-off.”

The Red Cross said settling on a plan early would have been a mistake. “It would be hard to create the perfect plan from the beginning in a complicated place like Haiti,” it said. “But we also need to begin, so we create plans that are continually revised.”

Those plans were further undermined by the Red Cross’ reliance on expats. Noailles, the Haitian development professional who worked for the Red Cross on the Campeche project, said expat staffers struggled in meetings with local officials.

“Going to meetings with the community when you don’t speak the language is not productive,” she said. Sometimes, she recalled, expat staffers would skip such meetings altogether.

The Red Cross said it has “made it a priority to hire Haitians” despite lots of competition for local professionals, and that over 90 percent of its staff is Haitian. The charity said it used a local human resources firm to help.

Yet very few Haitians have made it into the group’s top echelons in Haiti, according to five current and former Red Cross staffers as well as staff lists obtained by ProPublica and NPR.

That not only affected the group’s ability to work in Haiti, it was also expensive.

According to an internal Red Cross budgeting document for the project in Campeche, the project manager – a position reserved for an expatriate – was entitled to allowances for housing, food and other expenses, home leave trips, R&R four times a year, and relocation expenses. In all, it added up to $140,000.

Compensation for a senior Haitian engineer — the top local position — was less than one-third of that, $42,000 a year.

Shelim Dorval, a Haitian administrator who worked for the Red Cross coordinating travel and housing for expatriate staffers, recalled thinking it was a waste to spend so much to bring in people with little knowledge of Haiti when locals were available.

“For each one of those expats, they were having high salaries, staying in a fancy house, and getting vacation trips back to their countries,” Dorval said. “A lot of money was spent on those people who were not Haitian, who had nothing to do with Haiti. The money was just going back to the United States.”

***

Soon after the earthquake, McGovern, the Red Cross CEO, said the group would make sure donors knew exactly what happened to their money.

The Red Cross would “lead the effort in transparency,” she pledged. “We are happy to share the way we are spending our dollars.”

That hasn’t happened. The Red Cross’ public reports offer only broad categories about where $488 million in donations has gone. The biggest category is shelter, at about $170 million. The others include health, emergency relief and disaster preparedness.

It has declined repeated requests to disclose the specific projects, to explain how much money went to each or to say what the results of each project were.

There is reason to doubt the Red Cross’ claims that it helped 4.5 million Haitians. An internal evaluation found that in some areas, the Red Cross reported helping more people than even lived in the communities. In other cases, the figures were low, and in others double-counting went uncorrected.

In describing its work, the Red Cross also conflates different types of aid, making it more difficult to assess the charity’s efforts in Haiti.

For example, while the Red Cross says it provided more than 130,000 people with homes, that includes thousands of people who were not actually given homes, but rather were “trained in proper construction techniques.” (That was first reported by the Haiti blog of the Center for Economic and Policy Research.)

The figure includes people who got short-term rental assistance or were housed in several thousand “transitional shelters,” which are temporary structures that can get eaten up by termites or tip over in storms. It also includes modest improvements on 5,000 temporary shelters.

The Red Cross also won’t break down what portion of donations went to overhead.

McGovern told CBS News a few months after the quake, “Minus the 9 cents overhead, 91 cents on the dollar will be going to Haiti. And I give you my word and my commitment, I’m banking my integrity, my own personal sense of integrity on that statement.”

But the reality is that less money went to Haiti than 91 percent. That’s because in addition to the Red Cross’ 9 percent overhead, the other groups that got grants from the Red Cross also have their own overhead.

In one case, the Red Cross sent $6 million to the International Federation of the Red Cross for rental subsidies to help Haitians leave tent camps. The IFRC then took out 26 percent for overhead and what the IFRC described as program-related “administration, finance, human resources” and similar costs.

Beyond all that, the Red Cross also spends another piece of each dollar for what it describes as “program costs incurred by the American Red Cross in managing” the projects done by other groups.

The American Red Cross’ management and other costs consumed an additional 24 percent of the money on one project, according to the group’s statements and internal documents. The actual work, upgrading shelters, was done by the Swiss and Spanish Red Cross societies.

“It’s a cycle of overhead,” said Jonathan Katz, the Associated Press reporter in Haiti at the time of the earthquake who tracked post-disaster spending for his book, The Big Truck That Went By. “It was always going to be the American Red Cross taking a 9 percent cut, re-granting to another group, which would take out their cut.”

Given the results produced by the Red Cross’ projects in Haiti, Bellerive, the former prime minister, said he has a hard time fathoming what’s happened to donors’ money.

“Five hundred million dollars in Haiti is a lot of money,” he said. “I’m not a big mathematician, but I can make some additions. I know more or less the cost of things. Unless you don’t pay for the gasoline the same price I was paying, unless you pay people 20 times what I was paying them, unless the cost of the house you built was five times the cost I was paying, it doesn’t add up for me.”

[fmr]

Photographs:

...

The Red Cross promised to build hundreds of new homes in Campeche but none have been built. Many residents still live in crude shacks.

Jean Jean Flaubert says the Red Cross promised to transform his neighborhood. “Now I do not understand the change that they are talking about,” he said

Transitional shelters like these on the outskirts of Port-Au-Prince, paid for by the Red Cross, typically last three to five years

After the earthquake, Red Cross CEO Gail McGovern unveiled plans to “develop brand-new communities.” None has ever been built.

A resident in a Port-Au-Prince transitional shelter paid for by the Red Cross

[behind-stories]

REVEALING THE SECRET BEHIND THE DEAD VIRUS CORONA

A SENIOR CHINESE MILITARY INTELLIGENCE OFFICER WHO COULD NOT CONTAIN THE PAIN OF LOSING HIS ONLY CHILD, HAVE DECIDED TO REVEAL THE SECRET BEHIND THE DREADED VIRUS (CORONA )

I am a senior Chinese military intelligence officer and I know the truth about the coronavirus outbreak. It is far worse than the media are telling you.

I am a Chinese citizen in Wuhan who occupies — or perhaps occupied — a high-ranking position in military intelligence. I am also a member of the Chinese Communist Party. As a senior official near the top of the Party, I have access to a great deal of classified information and I have been involved in many top-secret government projects. I have a doctorate from a leading university in a western country, which is why I can write my account in English.

I have information that I believe could lead to the overthrow of my government. It is also relevant to billions of people outside of China, all of whom are now in existential peril.

It will not surprise you to hear that if my identity were to be revealed, my life would be in grave danger, as would those of my wife and son. I ask you to respect the fact that I have stripped out of this account all facts that would make it easy to identify me.

By now you will be familiar with the recent outbreak of 2019-nCoV, also known as NCP, or simply “coronavirus”. You will have heard that it originated in Wuhan, an industrial city in China and that it came from an animal — most likely a bat or a pangolin — that was sold in a wild animal market. You will have been told that it is an influenza-like illness that can in severe cases cause pneumonia, respiratory failure, and death. Finally, you may have heard that although the disease is highly infectious, it is dangerous only to the elderly or to those who have a compromised immune system. The official lethality rate is approximately 2% or so.

All of that is a bunch of lies concocted by the Chinese state with the tacit support of the U.S. deep state and its friends in the European Union, Russia, and Australia, and spread by the docile media in all of those countries.

Let me start by telling you that the world does not operate the way you think it does. Although countries like the US and China vie for global dominance, that competition is restricted to certain limited areas. In most ways, the two countries are more interested in cooperation so that they can stop other competing countries from gaining more power. They also have a shared interest in keeping real power out of the hands of their “ordinary” citizens. To this end, they have many different mechanisms by which they control the overwhelming majority of their media outlets. The Americans, in particular, have perfected the art of creating made-up “divisions” between their two main parties which are designed to hide the fact that both serve the same masters.

These same nations also possess technology that is far more advanced than you can imagine and which is kept carefully hidden from public view. This includes advanced artificial intelligence capable of undermining and deciding any election in the world; biological and chemical agents that can manipulate and control the thinking patterns and behaviours of citizens to terrifying degrees; highly sophisticated manipulation techniques using hypnotic practices entirely unknown to the public; and other things that I will not go into now. My point is that the great nations do not compete so much as they work together. Their principal goal is to shield the true workings of the world from the “uninitiated” public.

Just to give you one example, there aren’t any nuclear weapons anywhere in the world. The U.S. and the Soviet Union scrapped them all in the 1970s, as did their client states. Everyone realised that those weapons could not be used without destroying the whole world, so there was no need for them; but by pretending that they still had them, the big players were able to keep the non-nuclear powers in line.

Let me return to the virus.

Last year, large-scale anti-government protests erupted in Hong Kong. The Standing Committee of the Chinese Communist Party considered these to be a grave threat to the integrity and stability of the motherland. The U.S. government and the EU both knew that the Chinese were secretly working on a biological agent that was supposed to make the protesters docile and obedient. Without going into detail, I worked on that project. We tried to develop a sort of spray that could be dispersed from helicopters or drones and that would lead to mental retardation and behavioural change.

Naturally, as Hong Kong is one of the most open and international cities in the world, the Party decided that it was too risky to release the agent in Hong Kong without first testing it. For this, it needed a great number of human guinea pigs. Two groups were identified for this.

First, we rounded up a large number of so-called “Islamic radicals” in Xinjiang Province and took them to what we called “training camps”. We had already been using these camps for human experimentation for several years, but the Hong Kong protests meant that we redoubled our efforts. We exposed the inmates to various “alpha” experimental agents. As these were odourless and invisible, the subjects were not aware that they were taking part in medical trials. The resulting high rates of cancer, premature dementia, suicidal depression and death by organ failure could easily be suppressed, as the camps are located in very remote parts of our motherland.

Once the initial experiments had yielded a “beta” agent, it was transported to Hubei Province, where it was deployed in a special military testing facility outside the city of Wuhan. This was not even a particularly well-kept secret: the existence of this facility has been reported in international news. Even the fact that it is located close to the wild animal market is a known fact.

By then our President had already introduced a “social credit” system that allowed us to identify disloyal, counter-revolutionary and bourgeois elements in our society. Using the social credit scores — which are taken from online activity, electronic shopping behaviour and reports from informers in civil society — we selected some of the worst offenders. These included human rights lawyers and activists, Christians, homosexuals, artists, intellectuals, people who speak foreign languages, and other undesirables.

Once these troublemakers had been collected and placed in the testing facility, we exposed them to the Agent, which is biochemical and spread in an invisible aerosol, akin to certain viruses. Initial results were encouraging, as we saw significant cognitive decline and reduction in higher mental processing facilities. Essentially, our undesirables were becoming mildly mentally disabled, which is precisely the effect we wanted to produce to pacify the restive population of Hong Kong.

Unfortunately, it quickly became apparent that the Agent also had other effects. About one week after the retardation set in, our subjects developed major anxiety and panic attacks. Eventually, they developed symptoms akin to those of paranoid schizophrenics. At that point, their bodies rapidly deteriorated. They developed massive internal bleeding; the walls of their arteries dissolved; they bled out of their eyes and orifices, and their tissue disintegrated.

To put it in a more direct Western manner, they started to melt.

Death usually occurred through multiple organ failure. This was preceded by at least five days of severe agony which could not be alleviated by painkillers. It was at this time that I first violated our protocol: one subject, an elderly lady who had published defamatory cartoons of our President, begged me for death with such insistence that I took pity and shot her. I was reprimanded, but fortunately, the complaint was dropped when I agreed to reimburse the cost of the bullet. I swore to myself never again to show such unnecessary emotion.

We decided that our Agent was unusable. It was far too destructive for our purposes. We wanted the population of Hong Kong to submit to us; we did not want to exterminate it.

Naturally, our American friends had by then taken an interest in our work and asked us for a sample for their research and testing purposes. They hinted that they wished to use it to resolve certain difficulties in Venezuela. Normally we would have agreed, as we maintain friendly relations with the CIA, but given the extremely toxic nature of the Agent, we declined.

This, as it turned out, was a grave mistake. The CIA was convinced that we had developed something very powerful and wanted to keep it to ourselves. They offered a great deal of money to one of our researchers. Foolishly, he agreed to sell them a specimen. We found out just in time for the handover and tried to stop it from happening. In the ensuing shoot-out — don’t bother to look for it in the news, it was never reported anywhere — several dozen people were killed.

More importantly, however, the Agent escaped.

The shoot-out took place at the wild animal market which has been reported as the location of the “animal to human” transmission that started the outbreak. But of course, there was no such transmission; it was just the location where the CIA was supposed to receive the sealed vial containing the Agent. The vial shattered when it was dropped by the traitor who had agreed to sell it to the Americans.

By now I understand you will be sceptical. If I am who I say I am, why would I be sharing this information on the internet? Let me assure you that I am no friend of the Western system of governance. I love my motherland and I am loyal to the Communist Party. It has lifted hundreds of millions of my compatriots out of squalor and poverty. However, I am also a human being and I have a conscience.

Most importantly, I have a wife and a son.

Once we realized that the Agent had escaped and would start to spread, we swiftly put all of Wuhan into lockdown. I was one of those tasked to manage the fallout of the contamination. Of course, we could not keep such a huge undertaking secret, so we decided to order our state media to report that a “coronavirus” had broken out in Wuhan.

In reality, of course, there is no “coronavirus”. It was all made up.

It was one of my colleagues who came up with the genius idea of pretending that people with the common flu suffered from the coronavirus. This allowed us to hide the true nature of the disease. Let me explain.

It is currently flu season in China. When we realized that we could no longer control the spread of the Agent, we sent our men to all the hospitals and instructed all doctors to diagnose every case of the common flu as “coronavirus”. We came up with a new name — 2019-nCoV — and handed out “factsheets” that described a made-up illness.

The result of this decision was that tens of thousands of individuals who were simply suffering from a cold or flu were now diagnosed as having a mysterious coronavirus that, although infectious, was not often lethal. While this frightened the public, it allowed us to push the narrative that the disease was not that deadly; it also gave us time to prepare for the catastrophe that was sure to come by imposing a lockdown on Wuhan and other cities in Hubei Province.

You have not heard this in the news — and given the size of Wuhan, with its population of 11 million, it is not known even to many of the residents — but within days thousands upon thousands were infected and before long they suffered the agonizing deaths that I have already described. Within a week, there were so many corpses that we did not know what to do with them, so we ordered the surviving social credit prisoners to drive the bodies into the countryside and bury them in mass graves. But it was very difficult to keep this activity secret, and we could not even keep up as there were so many corpses. We planted a story that five million residents had “fled” Wuhan. In reality, of course, many of those people had died from the Agent.

I was working around the clock helping to orchestrate this cover-up. When I think back to my actions now, I feel great shame. At the time I still believed that I was fighting for my motherland and that the rule of the Party was right and just. But deep down, I had already begun to have doubts.

My faith in the Party was shaken even more deeply when I learned what had happened to Dr Li Wenliang. He was one of the few doctors who refused falsely to diagnose flu patients with the “coronavirus”. As a punishment, he was sent to help transport dead bodies to mass graves. The expectation was that he would be infected with the Agent and die an agonizing death, but to our great surprise, he did not contract the illness.

You have of course read that he died of “coronavirus”. You have been misinformed. A sergeant of the People’s Armed Police injected him with a mixture of heroin and mercury that caused his lungs to deflate.

When I found out about this I became unsure whether or not I was doing the right thing. While I believe that it is appropriate for a government to rule with a severed hand, I do not think that it was right to kill Dr Li. He was a compassionate and kind man and he cared about his patients; how can our motherland not benefit from having such a doctor?

I shared my concerns with my wife, but she convinced me that I should not say anything to my superiors. She said that it was too dangerous; that they valued loyalty above everything else; and that I would only find trouble if I admitted to my doubts about their practices. She also pointed out that we benefited from the priority of medical treatment. As senior officials, we received regular supplies of the highly-sophisticated hazmat masks that are the only known technology that can prevent infection. She implored me to think of our son, who is still small. If I spoke out and were caught, our lives would be at risk.

Around the same time, it became clear that the Agent was entirely beyond our control. It was spreading like wildfire throughout Hubei Province and beyond, infecting tens of millions and causing them all to die.

I understand that what I just said is difficult to believe because you have been told that there have been only about 50,000 infections and far fewer deaths. But these are the influenza infections that have been falsely passed off as the non-existent “coronavirus”. The Agent is far, far more contagious than that, and its fatality rate, unlike the “coronavirus”, is not 2%.

No, its fatality rate is 100%. Nobody recovers from it. Everybody who contracts it dies.

And a lot of people are contracting it.

Hubei Province lies in ruins. The various travel restrictions and lockdowns that have been imposed were not created to stop the spread of the Agent — none of them can stop it, not embargoes, not face masks or hand sanitizer — but to stop the survivors from seeing the catastrophe with their own eyes.

I am part of the greatest cover-up in human history: the hiding of the deaths of tens of millions. Very soon, Hubei Province will be no more than a giant mortuary, and the truth will come out.

For me, the turning point came when the Party told yet another lie, and that lie was too dreadful to even for me to accept. You may have heard that China built a new hospital, called Huoshenshan Hospital, in Wuhan, to provide additional quarantine and isolation facilities for infected patients. You may have heard that they built it in only ten days.

That too is a lie.

Sure, they did build something in six days. But it was not a hospital. The true nature of the building was top secret. Initially, I was naive enough to believe that the Party was demonstrating its compassion and care for the people. But then my superiors sent me to Huoshenshan. I was shown around the installation by a military police officer called Corporal Meng (this is not his real name). It was there that I saw the truth.

As I have mentioned, the only way to protect oneself from the Agent is by wearing a special protective mask that is entirely unlike those available commercially. Even medical professionals do not have access to it. It is available only to biomedical warfare researchers and it contains extremely advanced technology.

These masks need to be kept at a particular temperature to offer full protection and lose their effectiveness very quickly. As I have also already said, one of the benefits of my position was that both my family and I had access to regular supplies, which is why were safe when compared to civilians, doctors and even lower-level government officials, all of whom wore utterly ineffective surgical masks in the misguided belief that they would protect them.

And so, wearing this special equipment, I went to Huoshenshan with Corporal Meng.

Whatever you want to call that place, it is not a hospital. Sure, the entrance looks like a hospital and in the ward at the front of the complex, there are what appear to be normal medical beds. There, thousands of infected patients lie, all of them in the early stages of the disease. I walked along those long, white corridors next to Corporal Meng, his angular face dispassionate in his military fatigues, and saw hundreds upon hundreds of identical hospital beds on which squirmed the terrified and diseased inhabitants of Wuhan. Their cries and pleas haunt me in the long nights in which I now am unable to sleep.

But this was merely the beginning. Eventually, the Corporal took me to the rear of this front section. There, locked metal gates led to what he called the “middle section”. The patients in the front are unaware of its existence. It is there that the more advanced cases are kept, in what most closely resembles a mental asylum.

Immediately upon entering this part of Huoshenshan, I was struck by the dim lighting and stench of vomit and human waste. Here the unfortunates roamed freely, their minds gradually disintegrating in endless panic attacks and psychotic episodes. Here too there were no more doctors, merely gorilla-faced men in black uniforms who belonged to some secret branch of the military police I had never heard of.

They appeared to have been selected for their cruelty, for they beat and degraded the patients in the most sadistic manner. Many of the inmates had regressed to childlike states and lay on the floor weeping like infants and begging for compassion that they did not receive. There was a cruel pleasure in the eyes of these thugs as they brutalised the unfortunates. They beat them with batons, sprayed pepper spray into their eyes and kicked them with their steel-capped boots. As I was from military intelligence, the guards did not even attempt to hide their activities. They even invited me to join; in every way, they treated me as one of them.

Yes, one of them. I stood in the grey staff bathroom of Huoshenshan and looked into a cheap mirror and asked myself — is this really what you are? Are you like them?

But the violence was not merely an expression of sadism, for the poor inmates were not there to be cared for.

They were there to work.

There was one more set of doors, and beyond them lay what the Corporal called the “Core”. And it was there that I saw it — piles and piles of dead bodies, stacked on top of one another to the ceiling. There were men, women, and children, elderlies and toddlers, rich and poor, beautiful and misshapen, proud and humble.

They were all of them dead. Our Agent made no distinction between any of them.

I gasped when the Corporal led me to the Core. I cannot count how many there were, but it was many, many thousands. And amid the piles of corpses was a kind of path, and I heard a roaring sound in the distance. The miserable patients from the middle section picked up the dead and carried and dragged them away into the dark, even as the guards beat them with truncheons.

It took me a little while before I grasped what was happening. I simply could not believe what lay at the end of that path in the Core.

It was an enormous furnace, with great fires roaring within.

One by one, their minds destroyed and their bodies twisted, the dying men and women carried the corpses to the furnace and cast them inside in a doomed attempt to hide the dreadful truth. I saw several of them collapse from exhaustion only for their lifeless bodies to be added to the mountains of corpses on both sides. In a seemingly endless line they went, their emaciated bodies clad in grey overalls, their backs bent under the weight of their dreadful cargo. Many howled and groaned in terror and their voices joined in a sorrowful cacophony that lingered over the roar of the fires.

In deep shock, I stared at the boundless horror before me. Beside me stood Corporal Meng, his freshly-shaved face as emotionless as before. When I turned to face him, he looked at me. His mouth smiled, but his eyes did not.

“We use the energy to operate Huoshenshan,” he said. “We save the state considerable resources in this way. And look,” — he waved at the gallery of the dead — “there are so many of them here. You could almost describe it as renewable energy.” He laughed and waved his hand in a strangely camp gesture.

I stood speechless and stared at the infernal scenes before me. Men in black uniforms screamed like daemons at the wretches who were disposing of the corpses for them. They stripped the dead of anything that had value — jewellery, cash, expensive clothing — and tossed these items onto an enormous pile next to the furnace. When I asked the Corporal what would be done with the items, they said that they would be used to pay for the “healthcare expenses” incurred by the patients’ stay in Huoshenshan.

I vomited in the toilet. When I flushed and came out of the stall, Corporal Meng stood by the door and looked at me. His face was as blank as before, but in his eyes, I thought I registered a very faint trace of contempt. You are ten years my senior, the look said, but you are soft.

I thanked him for his service and went home.

When I arrived, I saw that I had received hundreds of updates on the encrypted device the Party uses to communicate to insiders. The news was unimaginably grim. The State Legal and Economic Commission had allocated funds for the construction of dozens of facilities like Huoshenshan throughout China. The Agent had spread not only to every single province of the motherland but to most other nations in the world. Fortunately, we had agreements in place with other governments — they agreed to pretend that the infections were due to a coronavirus. They were just as worried as we were that panic might break out in their countries. The Americans, in particular, were terrified that the S&P 500 might decline. This, they said, would be unacceptable in an election year, so we could count on their full support.

Of course, the World Health Organisation also helped us. For a long time, the only issue with the WHO has been that we have been locked in a contest with the Americans about who bribes them more. They released all sorts of sophisticated misinformation about having decoded the DNA of the so-called coronavirus. All this has allowed us to stave off a global panic.

For now.

Yet the situation was worsening with astonishing speed. I am reluctant to reveal too much on this point, as it would make it too easy for my enemies to identify me, but we quickly began to implement measures to protect our most senior leaders. If you look at the world news, you will see that Xi Jinping, our President, disappeared for approximately one week after the outbreak, before being seen again with the leader of Cambodia.

You should know that the person who met the Cambodian leader was not President Xi. It was a body double who had, for many years, been trained to look and sound just like our President. President Xi is of course not careless enough to risk his death. He is safely ensconced in a secret bunker underneath Zhongnanhai, the headquarters of the Party in Beijing.

Nor was he the only leader who is in hiding. I can assure you that over half of all senior Party members are currently being imitated by trained actors who are following instructions given to them via special implants. Do you think that our Prime Minister would risk his life by going to Wuhan?

All of this means that our government has become utterly paralyzed and the functions of the state have been taken over by the military.

It became clear to me that our efforts were pointless. Yes, the lockdowns, travel bans and targeted assassinations of rebellious journalists allowed us to hide the true situation in Wuhan; but I knew that this would not last. Once the mass deaths begin in the rest of the world — in our estimation, this should happen within the next week or so — everyone will know the truth. It will become clear that we cannot protect ourselves from the Agent. Surgical masks, hand sanitizer, gloves — nothing can stop it. Nothing except the special hazmat masks, but those cannot be produced in anything like sufficient quantities. You, an ordinary person, will never even receive one, let alone a sufficient number to see you through the coming holocaust.

For those of you reading this, therefore, all I can suggest is that you keep your loved ones close to you. Hug them, tell them what they mean to you. Enjoy the time you have left with them. It is not typical in Chinese culture to express one’s feelings in this way, but I have learned the importance of such gestures.

I promised my wife that I would show this document to her before I posted it.

Yet I broke my word.

I hear her weep in loud, hoarse sobs in the bedroom, and the keyboard of my laptop is wet with my tears. Not long ago, we received results of the regular tests that are part of our “priority medical treatment”, and we learned that my son had been infected with the Agent.

The military police that has supplied me with the special protective mask had been giving expired and ineffective masks to my son, masks that senior officials had already worn and then discarded when they ceased to protect them. My masks, on the other hand, had always been of the necessary quality.

I suppose they decided that my son was of lower priority than me. I suppose my son could not help them with their cover-up.

We had long ago decided that we would be different — we would be honest with him, always. And so when he asked us, we told him the truth. We told him that he was very sick. He asked more, and we told him he would not get better.

He continued asking, and we told him that he would die. He is very small, but he was old enough to understand.

His terrified wails will haunt me for the rest of my miserable days in this world.

Let them come. Let them do with me as they will. I no longer care.

@behind_stories