#you know how dangerous it is to say ‘this is most likely misinformation’ on a topic you know nothing about and only used some google for

[oasatelematics]

feeling weirdly defensive over nuclear energy tonight crazy what being on your period does to you

[magz]

Someone tagged the “Frida Kahlo was anti-semitic and racist” post saying it must be misinformation because of not being able to find anything on Google except that Frida Kahlo faked being Jewish.

So you barely researched the complicated topic you just now became aware of, and her faking being Jewish wasn’t considered an indication of anything to you?

[cy-cyborg]

The Jaws Effect and what it means for media representation

The Jaws Effect is the name of a phenomenon that described the panic and fear that sprang up around sharks, fuelled by Steven Spielberg's movie, Jaws. While the fear of sharks and other marine predators had always been a thing, Jaws launched the fear of sharks, and Great White Sharks in particular, to new (and mostly unfounded) heights. Most people will never encounter a real-life shark and so their only knowledge about the creatures come from movies and other forms of entertainment. Entertainment that largely portrayed them as mindless, unfeeling killing machines. After Jaws, sharks became a staple in the creature-feature genre of movies, which only perpetuated the idea of sharks as dangerous monsters even further, reigniting and reconfirming the beliefs the public held about them in the process. These ideas about sharks are, of course, not true, but the misconception and fear has had a real, observable impacts on shark populations, shark conservation efforts and even laws and legislations surrounding sharks and shark conservation around the world.

Ok but Cy, this is a blog about disability and disabled representation, what do sharks have to do with anything you talk about? Well, Because The Jaws Effect is just one of many examples that shows how massive of an impact representation in the media can have, for better or for worse, especially when talking about subjects the public generally knows very little about.

This conversation is not unique to disability representation, nearly every person I've seen who's talked about how to write and design characters from any minority brings it up eventually, but the media we consume, the movies we watch, the books we read can all have big impacts on people's perceptions on those topics. When talking about disability specifically, it's an unfortunate reality that not many people know all that much about us, and so, much like sharks, for many, their only real exposure to disabled people is through the media they consume.

If you don't know anyone in a wheelchair, and your only knowledge of life as a wheelchair user comes from books and movies like Me Before You, of course you're going to (spoiler) come away thinking that life in a wheelchair is horrible and death is better than living like that. If you don't know any DID Systems and your only exposure to a condition like that is through movies like Split (and honestly, a number of other horror movies and crime shows) of course you'll think people with DID are unstable monsters who could become violent any moment. If your only exposure to autistic people is Music, then it's not shocking that you might think Autistic people are "trapped in their own minds," completely unaware of the world around them and lacking any kind of agency. As much as I'd like to be able to say these are "just movies" or "just books," and that if we don't like them, we can just not watch them, they all had an impact on the real world and real people's perceptions of the disabilities they depicted, as do the many, many smaller examples of bad representation.

This is why I personally spend so much time focused on the portrayal of disability in the media, why so much of my content is focused on creating resources for creators to represent us better, and why I think writers, artists and other types of creators should care about the representation they include.

Unfortunately, people believing misinformation and stereotypes, while annoying, isn't the worst of the impacts bad rep can have. If a stereotype is prevalent enough, and enough people believe it, it can both put us in harms way and cause us to loose access to things we desperately need and things designed to help us. One really common example of this is when movies and TV shows show a character getting up out of their wheelchair, and use this as proof that the person is faking being disabled. However, in reality, there are many disabilities that might mean someone has to use a wheelchair, even if they can still walk a little bit or stand up. The stereotype of someone standing up from their chair being a fake, especially when it's reinforced over and over again in the media, leads non-disabled people to believe that anyone who stands up from their wheelchair is faking, and results in a lot of real disabled people being harassed and denied things like access to disabled parking, toilets and other accessible spaces. There were even a few cases of people reporting those they see get out of their wheelchairs to Centrelink (The Australian "welfare" department, for those not familiar) as frauds, and while these investigations don't usually go far before someone realises what's happened, it has, on occasion, resulted in people loosing the income they depend on to survive, even temporarily.

But the impact of representation, of course, can go both ways.

I was in high school when the first How To Train Your Dragon movie came out, and at the time, I didn't really like people being able to see that I was a leg amputee because I was sick of kids in particular staring, pointing at me, asking their parents "what's wrong with them?" or asking me directly, "what's wrong with your legs?". I wore long skirts and big, bulky tracksuit pants to keep my legs covered, something that became dangerous in the hot Australian summer, but I didn't care.

But the impact of How to Train Your Dragon came in two ways. The first, was that it was one of the first times I'd seen an amputee (or rather, multiple amputees) who didn't keep their prosthetics covered or hidden, and it gave me the little boost in confidence I needed to do that myself and wear clothing that was more comfortable and functional. And second, the comments from children changed, albeit slightly, but enough that it was noticeable. The questions and comments went from "what's wrong with you?" to "oh cool, your legs are like Hiccup's!" I even had one little girl ask me once if I had a pet night fury. They went from being scared of me and my legs, or at the very least concerned for me, to genuinely curious and impressed. While reactions like that did become less and less common over time, they didn't fully go away either. Even today, I occasionally get young kids asking me why I have legs like hiccup. A friend of mine who was born with one arm shorter than the other and without fingers on that side had a similar experience with the movie Finding Nemo. Her disability was a bit more complex than what I described here, and she always found it hard to explain "what happened" to small children, however, after Finding Nemo came out, she was able to simply tell kids "this is my lucky fin, like what nemo has!" and that was enough to take her from someone "scary" to these kids to someone like their favourite characters.

Of course, it's much easier to see the impact positive representation can have on people's perceptions when we're talking about kids media, but it's not exclusive to it either.

When it comes to a minority like the disabled community who are so thoroughly misunderstood by the wider public, misinformation can and does spread easily. What people see and read in the media they consume plays a big roll in how people perceive the real people attached to the stereotypes. We often hear people say "Fiction imitates life" but the reverse can and often is also true, life can imitate and be influenced by fiction, and those of us creating should be mindful of this, especially when we're talking about a group of vulnerable people.

[Thumbnail ID: An illustration of a Great White Shark swimming near the rocky bottom of the ocean, surrounded by silver fish. In the bottom left corner of the image is "The Jaws Effect and what it means for media representation" in big, white bubble text. /End ID]

[lightyaoigami]

☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ how to resume ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ

after 10 years & 6 jobs in corporate america, i would like to share how to game the system. we all want the biggest payoff for the least amount of work, right?

know thine enemy: beating the robots

i see a lot of misinformation about how AI is used to scrape resumes. i can't speak for every company but most corporations use what is called applicant tracking software (ATS).

no respectable company is using chatgpt to sort applications. i don't know how you'd even write the prompt to get a consumer-facing product to do this. i guarantee that target, walmart, bank of america, whatever, they are all using B2B SaaS enterprise solutions. there is not one hiring manager plinking away at at a large language model.

ATS scans your resume in comparison to the job posting, parses which resumes contain key words, and presents the recruiter and/or hiring manager with resumes with a high "score." the goal of writing your resume is to get your "score" as high as possible.

but tumblr user lightyaoigami, how do i beat the robots?

great question, y/n. you will want to seek out an ATS resume checker. i have personally found success with jobscan, which is not free, but works extremely well. there is a free trial period, and other ATS scanners are in fact free. some of these tools are so sophisticated that they can actually help build your resume from scratch with your input. i wrote my own resume and used jobscan to compare it to the applications i was finishing.

do not use chatgpt to write your resume or cover letter. it is painfully obvious. here is a tutorial on how to use jobscan. for the zillionth time i do not work for jobscan nor am i a #jobscanpartner i am just a person who used this tool to land a job at a challenging time.

the resume checkers will tell you what words and/or phrases you need to shoehorn into your bullet points - i.e., if you are applying for a job that requires you to be a strong collaborator, the resume checker might suggest you include the phrase "cross-functional teams." you can easily re-word your bullets to include this with a little noodling.

don't i need a cover letter?

it depends on the job. after you have about 5 years of experience, i would say that they are largely unnecessary. while i was laid off, i applied to about 100 jobs in a three-month period (#blessed to have been hired quickly). i did not submit a cover letter for any of them, and i had a solid rate of phone screens/interviews after submission despite not having a cover letter. if you are absolutely required to write one, do not have chatgpt do it for you. use a guide from a human being who knows what they are talking about, like ask a manager or betterup.

but i don't even know where to start!

i know it's hard, but you have to have a bit of entrepreneurial spirit here. google duckduckgo is your friend. don't pull any bean soup what-about-me-isms. if you truly don't know where to start, look for an ATS-optimized resume template.

a word about neurodivergence and job applications

i, like many of you, am autistic. i am intimately familiar with how painful it is to expend limited energy on this demoralizing task only to have your "reward" be an equally, if not more so, demoralizing work experience. i don't have a lot of advice for this beyond craft your worksona like you're making a d&d character (or a fursona or a sim or an OC or whatever made up blorbo generator you personally enjoy).

and, remember, while a lot of office work is really uncomfortable and involves stuff like "talking in meetings" and "answering the phone," these things are not an inherent risk. discomfort is not tantamount to danger, and we all have to do uncomfortable things in order to thrive. there are a lot of ways to do this and there is no one-size-fits-all answer. not everyone can mask for extended periods, so be your own judge of what you can or can't do.

i like to think of work as a drag show where i perform this other personality in exchange for money. it is much easier to do this than to fight tooth and nail to be unmasked at work, which can be a risk to your livelihood and peace of mind. i don't think it's a good thing that we have to mask at work, but it's an important survival skill.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ good luck ⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆

[kaijutegu]

As if you needed another reason not to listen to Jay Brewer/Prehistoric Pets

Of all the reptile influencers, Jay Brewer is my least favorite. Let's see what he is up to today!

Recently this colossal idiot pet store owner who pretends he has any real knowledge about natural history went field herping. He grabbed a wild rattlesnake and filmed himself popping its genitalia for field sexing, without having ANYBODY CONTROLLING THE HEAD.

He just put his snake hook on top of it and popped out its genitals. In this incredibly unsafe video, he not only put himself and the snake at risk, but he claims it's educational- and that's why he did it.

Only thing is, he's wrong, and in fact spends time spreading misinformation. Let's take a look at some of his comments. This is the caption to his video.

The "nodes" are the hemipenes. He says that if there was one, it would be a girl. Thing is, girl snakes don't have hemipenes. While they do have hemiclitorises, those don't evert like hemipenes do. If "a node" comes out when you pop (read: bend a snake's tail back at the cloaca, forcing the genitals to emerge), you've given your snake a cloacal prolapse. This can kill them, but mill-style breeder Jay Brewer does not care about the lives of animals. We've known this. He doesn't care about his own snakes- he cuts eggs for funsies, he keeps giant snakes in drawers, and he regularly puts peoples' safety at risk for viral videos. But he also clearly doesn't care about the lives of wild animals.

What else has he said?

So here's a thought: Maybe your audience shouldn't know that they can pop a rattlesnake's hemipenes out of its cloaca because that is fucking dangerous. Not all information is good information to share in the Instagram format! Sometimes the general public shouldn't see you casually doing something dangerous without explaining what it is or why you're doing it!

Just wanting to know the sex of a snake in the field, when you're not actually doing any real research, is not a valid reason to do something this risky. Part of education is knowing what's actually educational. Another part is knowing how to appropriately frame dangerous activities so that you don't make your audience think that it's something anybody can go out and do. One of the things that makes me so upset about this video is the complete lack of context. It's not just that he has zero respect for a venomous animal, it's that he has zero respect for his audience.

Also, in the audio of his video, he doesn't call them hemipenes. He doesn't provide the most basic education he claims he does! He's just messing with an animal for the sake of messing with it!

He also promulgates a lie that popping doesn't cause the snake any harm, which is not what even most breeders say about it. Now, luckly, the snake seemed fine in this case. But there are plenty of people, mostly pet owners, who have lost snakes because they've tried to pop incorrectly and broken their snake's spine around the cloaca. Between the inability to eliminate correctly and infection caused from wounds, popping is one of the riskiest- and most unnecessary things- you can do to a pet snake.

Good breeders and snakekeepers do not take videos of themselves popping their snakes and put it on instagram and pretend it's educational. You pop snakes to guarantee the sex of the animal, and you do it ONLY when they are very young. Older snakes have more muscle control and it can hurt them pretty badly.

Even Spruce Pets knows that popping can cause your snake significant trauma, but fine, whatever. Let's traumatize random venomous snakes for Instagram views!

Also, he's just completely uninformed! Take this answer:

Probably? No, the answer is an easy yes. Rattlesnakes lose rattles all the time. They lose rattles due to terrain, to genetic deformity (some rattlers never form them!), and to predation attempts. It's just keratin. They're fine without it. Any real herpetologist would know this. If he can't get basic facts right, how can he be trusted to get more complicated stuff right?

And yeah, maybe this whole post is a little unhinged. But I hate this man and his practices so much. I hate that he's the face of an industry that could be so much better if it weren't for people like him. I hate that he's getting a TV show. I hate that people encounter his media and think that anything he does is a good idea. At least Brian Barczyck tries these days and actually promotes good care and safety at the Reptarium, but all Jay wants is popularity. He has zero respect for animals, and I loathe and detest that he's the face of our hobby.

[joannechocolat]

Burn the library, or walk inside. Either way, it's your choice.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you can't have missed the escalating riots all around the country - riots which the media keep referring to as "protests", in spite of the fact that no-one involved seems to agree on just what they are protesting against.

Dragging strangers out of cars, burning down public buildings, throwing stones at ambulancemen, setting fire to hotels in a deliberate attempt to burn the people inside alive - and maybe scoring a new phone or pair of trainers on the way home - has nothing to do with "protest."

It certainly has nothing to do with the brutal murder of three little girls, although that was used as a springboard by online agitators, claiming that the murderer was an immigrant (he wasn't, and even if he were, attacking other immigrants because of what he did makes about as much sense as torching a Wetherspoons in Manchester in protest against Myra Hindley.) Nor does it have anything to do with Asian grooming gangs in Rotherham, although that's the most recent excuse I've heard: those grooming gangs were dreadful, but these criminals do not represent the Asian community any more than do the white leaders of grooming gangs (which by far outnumber them).

So, what the fuck is this about?

Well, it's the illegal immigrants, they say. Coming into our country, taking our jobs, raping our girls, yadda, yadda, yadda. Except that it isn't. Brexit has made it increasingly difficult for foreigners to work here, which is why so many European doctors and nurses have already left the country, putting still yet more pressure onto our dying NHS. And refugees - let's call them that, given they're neither immigrants, nor here illegally - aren't allowed to work while their application is being processed. As for "immigrant crime", a phrase that these people have borrowed from Trump - it represents a tiny proportion of crime in the UK, which by the way has risen sharply as the riots have escalated, because the police just don't have the manpower to fight on two fronts at the same time.

And add to this the fact that the principal agitators - people like Yaxley-Lennon and Farage - don't even live in this country, I think it's pretty clear that whatever motivation these burners of libraries, looters of shops, and goose-stepping Nazi cosplayers claim, it has nothing to do with "British values" or "taking back the country", and everything to do with doing whatever the fuck they want and blaming it on someone else.

Why do I care? Because I was born in one of these communities. I still have family in Rotherham, in Barnsley. I live less than fifteen miles away from the heart of these riots. I've done events in the libraries and universities that have been attacked. And by the way, isn't it weird how thugs always target libraries and places of learning on their way to robbing their local Lush, or Greggs, or Shoezone?

It's almost as if the agitators know that education is the key. That reading brings us together; teaches us to question what we read on the internet; crosses cultural boundaries; reminds us we're all human. And in disaffected communities like Rotherham, with a high degree of poverty, access to these ideas is very dangerous in the eyes of a far-right movement that wants to take power.

Already, 14 years of austerity, cuts and corruption has brought the country to its knees. By cutting education and the arts, Tories have reduced the access of these underprivileged communities to critical thinking and new ideas. Brexit has done further damage, as well as cutting us off from our allies. After the event, it is now clear how much Russian misinformation played its part in that process, just as it's playing a part right now in spreading its racist rhetoric via supporters like Farage and the fake accounts that amplify him. Now they're no longer in power, the far-right is doing its best to do as much further damage as possible to our society, urging people to "take control" by destroying anything else that can help them out of poverty.

Why? Because poor people are easier for the far-right to control. Poverty and crime are linked; just as illiteracy and crime are linked. And both of those things are linked to hate; to racism and mistrust of anyone who seems different.

But here's the thing. There's always a choice. Not everyone who grows up poor becomes a criminal. Not everyone who missed out on a good education becomes a racist. I grew up in a poor neighbourhood. There were some racists there, and some thugs, but most people were decent and honest. Most people were happy to co-exist with people of different cultures. I was one of those people; my family was different. Sometimes people even told us to go back home where we belonged. Most didn't. But of course, were were white. We looked like them. There's an obvious reason why brown and Black people in particular are being dehumanized and blamed for what's wrong with the country now.

And it's ironic, how people react when someone calls them racist? "But we're just ordinary people, with ordinary concerns."

"I'm not racist, I'm just (insert your bullshit reason here)."

And yet, here we are. Racism is ordinary. And if you do racist things, if you blame all brown people for what one brown person did, if you judge people by the way they look, if you make assumptions about whole groups of people, then you're a racist. And if you spout Nazi slogans, do Nazi salutes, walk with Nazis, repeat Nazi propaganda, then you're a fucking Nazi, mate. Live with it, or change. Your choice.

Because the choices we make today affect what comes tomorrow. And although poverty isn't a choice, being a decent person is. Your choices can help your children break the cycle of despair. Or they can keep your kids stuck in the same rut. To put it another way, you can take your kids to the library and let them learn to think for themselves. Or you can burn the libraries down and take them to watch you and your mates trying to set fire to some terrified refugees in a hotel instead.

Either way, your kids get to live with the choices you make today.

Right now, you're deciding their future.

Your choice.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Thirty-Four

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 34

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten]  [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six][Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] Part Thirty-Four [Part Thirty-Five]

“So,” he says, after a sip of tea, “where would you like to begin?”

“I’m not certain,” you admit. Your mind’s been spinning with questions for weeks and yet now that Dale is availing himself to said questions, you find it blank. You grasp for anything to start. Nothing comes to mind besides the very beginning.

“You said earlier… that the original Dale was killed in his summoning attempt?”

“Yes,” the demon inhabiting his body replies. He sets down his cup of tea. “He attempted a summoning ritual, planning to bind a powerful, but unintelligent demonic spirit to him so he might use its strength and other inhuman abilities for his own gain.” That tracked with what you would have expected the original Dale to want. He seemed to have contempt for both demons and his grandparents’ rules, while craving more power for himself. 

You’re not surprised it went wrong either as Dale is clearing an intelligent demon. Even while traveling abroad from Northridge, the human Dale likely needed to be covert about his studies and plans. Given the host of misinformation out in the world, well, that probably led to some bad information. His own arrogance likely blinded him to that fact or he overestimated his ability to filter such misinformation out resulting in, well… Summoning demons is very dangerous.

“Unfortunately, he miscalculated in a number of ways,” Dale immediately confirms for you. “Such as how deep he threw his lure down into the portal he opened being the gravest as it meant he underestimated the vitality of his offering. Or rather, if he’d only gone as deep as he planned, it perhaps might have been sufficient. However, since he tried to go too deep, the offering was used up and he’d not set the proper parameters on the summoning circle to prevent an overreach demand.”

Your confusion must show on your face. This is all so far over your head. All your research since discovering this situation with Dale had been regarding what to do with a demon that was present, not how to find or bind one. You’re trying to follow along though and you’re sort of managing, even if you’ve no idea about the mechanics of how to do any of what Dale is describing.

Dale elaborates, “It needed more fuel to the fire so to speak in order to reach as deep as he specified, which was in error. After the offering, the closest source of potential energy was him. Not his body, but his—” Dale made a sound, a hissing air filled noise that you’d never be able to replicate “—, er, his life’s energy? I’m not too sure of the mechanisms myself to be honest. Most of what I know is gleaned from memories of humans who I’ve possessed and that knowledge is incomplete.”

“From what I can tell,” you offer, uncomfortable with speaking on something you’ve not studied deeply, but wanting to contribute something—or at least reassure Dale that you’re no expert nor expecting him to be one. Most of the studies you’ve had covered the Depths as part of history, not science. “There seem to be waves or cycles with knowledge of the Depths. There will be a build up of knowledge in one civilization, an increase in daily interaction between the planes, and then some big shift—a nation-wide purge, a crater where a city once was—wipes out a lot of that gained insight. The topic becomes taboo again, until slowly interest and tolerance builds once more.”

“Fascinating,” Dale says, leaning forward with rapt attention. “I’d not noticed, but I think you’re correct—the sources of information my hosts recall do seem to be clustered in certain years. The cycle isn’t obvious in the Depths because of how time is distorted.” 

“I’d imagine so,” you say, enjoying how animated Dale is on the topic. You hope your intrigue is not obvious as you surreptitiously study the two additional eyes which have opened up on his forehead. They’re identical to Dale’s human eyes, despite their placement.

Dale leans back, perhaps you were too obvious, but the eyes do stay. “Something to be explored at a later date,” Dale says sheepishly, seemingly to have recalled his original train of an explanation. “There are some things that are common knowledge among demons—passed on and around as information does even with the Depths’ fractured communities. If a human is drained of energy, there is a small window of opportunity where a demon can leap into their body. We can give it a kick to get it moving again—reignite the spark of life and animation with our own.” 

You’d heard of both types of possession–shared and solitary, but you never knew why or how they happened. You’re only grateful that the demon didn’t have to fight the original Dale–you feel guilty, but you can’t help but be glad you’ve only this Dale now.

He waves dismissively. “Of course you can possess a human body with the human’s energy still intact—you’ve met Two—but it's a much more delicate proposition. Often such a prospect involves a fight or negotiation. That’s why so many of the older cults would purposely use a human as an offering. Then the demon they wish to summon won’t have any trouble finding or possessing a vessel.” He again seems to get nervous with such mentions—as if you’ll suddenly remember that you should be afraid of him—and hastens on, “Anyways, there are also ways to do the reverse—to limit a casting, so if the offering is used up, it stops. Dale did not do that properly. He didn’t set the lure right either, which is why he didn’t attract demons that are more akin to animals than humans.”

“I suspected he might attempt something like this,” you admit, remembering your trepidation as the original Dale’s inability to conceal his anticipation had grown. “He was not subtle in his studies around anyone besides his grandparents, but I’m still horrified to think he did so in the estate. If anything went wrong—as it did—who knows who could have been hurt? Is there a way to limit the number of demons that can, can follow or catch the lure?” Your mind is filled with visions of multiple demons, with no regard for the humans already here or even merely not in control of themselves as many animal-like demons often were. It would be like suddenly having a pack of wolves in your bed chamber.

“There is and he managed that much,” Dale confirms and even though the casting is over a month ago, you still feel some relief that you weren't quite so close to complete chaos. “Once I had the lure, I merely had to keep hold of it as these are set to pull in the demon once one suiting the parameters comes into contact with it. He’d made—not noise—but something similar enough that there were a number of interested parties in the area. Luck made me one of the closest once he cast down.”

“But you’d come to see if the noise was a way to the Surface on purpose,” you guess, reading between the lines. You think back to the mood Dale had been in when he’d ‘recovered’ and was showing up to more than a meal an evening. He’d been happy. He’d wanted to be there.

“Yes,” Dale nods. “I’d been looking for the opportunity for long enough. It was a great relief to win the race and fight for the chance. I wasn’t going to let such a lucky circumstance slip through my fingers.”

“How many times had you been to the Surface before?” you ask, caught up so much information. He clearly knew a lot about summoning from Dale’s memories, his personal experiences—but possibly even from other humans. To want to be here strongly enough to fight for the chance he must have known what he was getting himself into—or been in such a rough spot in the Depths anything seemed better. You hoped it was the former.

“A few times,” Dale confirms. He leans back in his chair, his pupils darker in a fascinating way. Not larger, but deeper. You have to watch yourself so you don’t lean forward to see better, like you might find understanding if you fell into his eyes long enough. You force your gaze away and take a sip of tea. 

“The first time was by accident,” Dale confesses. “A very skilled summoner from Anjou pulled me and a couple others up. Bound us to her soldiers. It was enough to let me see and experience what it was like here. And to start my fascination.” He shrugs. “Sure, I’d heard of the Surface and humans before, but I’d never seen anything or anyone.”

“It’s not pure darkness in the Depths—I’ve no notion how such rumors began up here—but there’s nothing like the sun and sunlight and its warmth.” He closes his eyes and turns his face towards the window, even though the sun is almost done setting. “Everything feels freer here somehow, less weighed down. As if I’d been moving through water or smog my whole life, in more ways than one—not that that’s quite right either.” He frowns at his inability to describe the experience and opens his eyes to meet yours with perfect accuracy. “My apologies, I seem to lack the vocabulary to explain some of the differences as the effects, the experiences, are not ones that translate well.”

You don’t think he’s giving himself enough credit. “No, no—I think I understand as well as I’d be able without going there myself.”

“I’m not sure you’d like it,” he immediately cautions. Before you can begin to reply that wasn’t what you meant, he’s already hurrying to deter you. “Do not misunderstand me, there are many parts of living in the Depths that I liked. Having my own body and not having to use a vessel. There’s a certain beauty in landscapes and locations that cannot exist here. Comfort in the familiarity of it all. Not to mention the lack of constant deception. However, I’m not certain you would enjoy it.”

“That’s alright,” you reassure him. I have no plans to visit the Depths–you just want Dale to stay here.

“Good, good. It’s…” Dale’s at a loss of words as he tries to convey whatever he wants to. “Well, it’s very dangerous, more wild.” You shiver at the thought, having only lived in cities or large estates in your life–tamed in a manner that you can tell Dale means the opposite to. 

Dale frowns, glancing at you and out the window at the nearly set sun before going over to start a fire. You don’t clarify his misinterpretation because the light will be helpful to you, as you know Dale has excellent night vision. Besides, it's early enough in summer that nights can still carry a chill. 

Dale continues to talk as he arranges the logs, his voice clear despite his facing away and crouching down, “There are far more animals, for lack of a better word, than intelligent beings. And the intelligent demons are very territorial, in tight-knit clans that exclude outsiders, or in family groups, or solitary. None of these larger communities like humans, with their travel and attempts at civil interaction.”

“What sort are you from?” you can’t help but ask. He seems to enjoy being part of Northridge. He’d talked weeks ago of it as his ‘territory’ but you noticed he hasn’t mentioned anyone else. No one person was mentioned as an aspect of the Depths that he misses.

He straightens up from the fire, picking up his cup of tea for a drink. “That’s complicated.” He sets down the cup holds up his right hand as he explains, “One of my parents was pure shade, but they had been injured defending their territory. During that time they met an ambyani who’d left her family territory to make her own and had settled next to their territory.” He holds up his other hand to represent that parent, before frowning at your blank stare at the word. 

You know there are many races of demons, far more varied than any humans are from one another. Some are more famous—infamous— than others. You’ve never heard that word before. 

“Ambyani would remind you of humans in a broad sense—most intelligent demons have a form that’s similar enough to humans—but with features that would bring to mind salamanders and birds.” You nod, which you limit yourself to only because you can tell Dale has other things to say besides simply continuing to describe such a creature in greater detail as you wish he would. You wonder if he’s any talent for drawing that he might better illustrate what they would look like. “A courtship developed between them over the years. Eventually they became mates and began to have children.”

Does he mean his parents courted for years before marrying? Perhaps he is interested in such things, but merely expects a longer time frame. You can’t decide whether or not that makes you hopeful or dismayed, so you focus elsewhere. “So different races of demons can have children together?” you ask, even though you suppose he’d already told you as much. You’d grown up hearing about all sorts of demons—wild and strange in so many ways. They seemed too different to be able to have children together.

“Yes, although not always easily and often in adapted manners,” Dale replies. He fidgets, looking as if he’s going to start pacing again, before he sits instead. “The offspring tend to be a mix of parental traits, although the level of influence varies. For example, when a human has children with a possessed human, it is as though the child has three parents, with traits from all, but will end up primarily human because there is more influence from humans. Demons have overlap in their traits, even when different races, and those common traits show up more prominently in offspring.”

You try to absorb what he’s saying about demons, but your mind is a little stuck on the human part, since it's most applicable to you. Another problem for another time, you try to remind yourself. After all, it's not like that information is likely to be relevant to anything happening tonight. Forcibly, you remind yourself that Dale is attempting to explain his own parentage, which you do want to know about and which might help you learn more about him. You’re not sure if your mind can believe that having control over shadows is like hair color, but perhaps it was for demons.

“Shades spawn in swarms with or without partners,” Dale says, not having noticed your mind briefly get off on the wrong track, “while ambyani lay eggs.” You can’t help but notice neither of those methods is how humans reproduce. You try desperately not to picture what mating or sex would be like between such different demons if only because you want to keep listening to Dale. “It can be harder to reproduce between very different races, but my parents were able to raise a clutch with deliberate action, all of whom inherited from both parents.” You’re nodding until he says, “I was not one of them.”

“What do you mean?” Were those two not his parents after all?

“Myself and a handful of other siblings were formed on accident, with a greater portion of shade than ambyani,” Dale says, still not filling in many of the gaps to your mind. You didn’t want to interrupt him with more questions about how that happened in case he was talking around the exact circumstances on purpose. “As such, we grew up as shade do, wandering about in large swarms. We did combine and recombine with less frequency than usual due to our mother’s contribution.”

“But a swarm of bats or a flock of birds are still separate animals,” you can’t help but point out. “You’re saying that shade young are not fully separate?”

“Correct, usually a swarm solidifies into one shade after time passes, if they survive.” Dale sounds wistful as he explains, “However, rather than eventually dying off entirely, being subsumed by a larger swarm, or forming one shade being, we solidified into a group of siblings when younger than is typical for boundaries like that to form. Because we wandered as young shade do, we had strayed far from our parents' territory. We traveled throughout different demons’ territories, never able to stay long and always in danger from predators. Once old enough, we decided to find our parents. I was the only one to survive the journey home.”

Your heart goes out to Dale and you can see that he feels the loss of his siblings at such a young age. You can’t even imagine it. “I’m so sorry.”

Dale smiles sadly. “Thank you.” He fidgets in his chair before standing up. Waving his hand, he tries to downplay the loss, “It’s a blur, to be honest—little moments stick out but I was very young. Still, I missed them and being part of a family. I was quite eager to join my parents.” You’ve got a sinking feeling in your gut, given how Dale is and the sad tone this story has taken, that his eagerness may have been misplaced. “Unfortunately, by the time I returned, I had grown enough that my parent thought I was an unrelated shade, looking to steal their territory and family. I was able to communicate who I was eventually, but they never fully trusted me.”

You wrap your hand around the low footboard of the bed to resist the urge to comfort him with an embrace. He seems too full of nervous energy to appreciate it and this conversation, while relatable in some ways, is also throwing in your face how different you are. Perhaps he wouldn’t want a hug, even if you want to give him one. “Why not?”

Dale sighs, leaning against the vanity. He looks older, more tired. “Between growing away from them and how we—I—was formed, my mother felt there wasn’t enough ambyani in me. She barely believed I was hers. My parent saw me as too shade to be trusted—family means very little to them on its own. He could never truly be convinced I was not a rival to him. My other siblings were quite different from me and followed their lead.” All of Dale’s extra eyes have vanished and the shadows are very still around. His voice is clipped as he says, “After an incident, I realized it’d be best if I struck out on my own.”

You’re not sure what sort of incident he could mean, but given his parents distrust it could have been anything. People looking for a threat tend to find one, no matter how warranted. “Oh, Dale.”  He shrugs and turns to stare into the fire, the light casting strangely deep shadows on his face. He barely looks like his namesake in this moment. He looks too far from human. 

You want to shake him from this melancholy. It’s not the same, but you know what it's like to feel like a stranger, someone outside looking in, in your own home and with your own family. Your age difference would have been enough to do that to some extent, nevermind your illness. But your parents and siblings had always been around, had always known you were family. Now here Dale is once more outside of his ‘family’, a demon among humans. He had very little from his original identity he could reveal, even if you hope sharing with you will help. The thought occurs to you and you tentatively ask, “I suppose that reminds me of another question, do you wish for me to call you by another name?”

“Hm?” He half turns towards you, but continues to look so clearly inhuman. It's fascinating what light and shadow can do to change a person.

You’re not scared of him, but you are somewhat intimidated by the gap in your experiences. By how much you still don’t know of him as even this basic question demonstrates. “I only meant for when we’re alone, of course. But you must have a name besides ‘Dale’?” As soon as you clarify, you start to second guess yourself. What did you know of demons and their naming conventions? You’ve heard tell that names mean something to them. Or that they use them differently? But what was rumor or fact, you’ve no notion.

“Oh!” Dale turns fully away from the fire, looking startled, and it seems to shock him back to looking fairly human. His eyes, only the two at the moment and in the proper place, still must be the hardest to control. They still seem to have a glimmer of firelight in them. As he recovers from his surprise, he appears to give the question a brief few seconds of thought before shaking his head. “No, I don’t mind Dale.” You breathe out a sigh of relief that you hadn’t accidentally offended him. He continues, “We didn’t have names as such in the Depths, not permanent ones. Names, however someone was referring to you, were to reflect who you were in a context. In this context, I am Dale of Northridge.”

“If you’re happy with that,” you reassure him, even as he gets up to make himself a fresh cup of tea, “then I’m pleased to continue to call you ‘Dale’.” You hand him another packet of tea and he refills your own cup with fresh hot water. “I just want to make sure you’re aware you can share things with me, as yourself.”

“Thank you, sana.” His smile is small, full of sharp teeth, and quite sincere. “I believe I’m starting to get that through my mind,” Dale says as he salutes you with his fresh cup of tea. “It merely seems so novel. Humans are so fearful of the Depths and demons, which is not unwarranted.”

He frowns thoughtfully at you, pausing as he stirs his tea. He squints, a third eye mimicking the motion. “You’re quite smart, and compassionate, and—well, cautious isn’t quite right. Deliberate? Hm.” You wait with bated breath for whatever else he might say of your character. You’ve been wondering how he truly saw you for so long, what he made of such a silly human, and yet he seems far too complementary. “What I mean to say is that you are very sensible and that seems at odds with, well, this,” he motions between the two of you. “Your reaction to me when compared with others. I admit I still do not fully understand it.”

“I’m pleased you think I’m sensible,” you say before frowning because while you’re flattered, you also don’t want Dale to have a false image of you in his head. “But I don’t truly think I am. Sensible, that is. I mostly just see myself as a worrier, but it’s true that I worry a similar amount about what others might see as inconsequential or as monumental.” You shrug helplessly, trying to articulate what you mean. “I think I’m just better at pretending, or rather… I grew up oddly, because of my illness and isolation, in a manner such that the things others saw as mundane were far more to me. And now that I am healthier, I think sometimes because my mind has elevated the ordinary to extraordinary, I don’t find the strange so strange, or the risk as risky.” You wander back to the bed and sit down as you try to pull your thoughts into order.

“It’s true, marrying a demon is risky,” you’ve never actually said it out loud. The closest you came was with Steward Bilmont. It does sound incredibly foolish, even with Dale patiently waiting for you to keep talking, the picture of normalcy—baring the now three additional eyes. “But so is marrying anyone, to some extent. Certainly so is marrying an ambitious lordling who dabbles in forces he overestimates his abilities in. I knew what he was like when we entered into our betrothal, but considered it a price I’d pay, a risk I’d take. I wanted to attempt to run a fief and have a family of my own where my decisions held weight. My other options had not had such possibilities.”

You think back to when you figured out what was going on and what Dale was. What you wanted to do. “You were a new player to account for, but I already knew Dale wasn’t a prize himself. You could have been anything—for good or ill—and Dale was already part of the marriage to bear, not what I was looking forward to. Given the other alternatives, I thought seeing if you would at least be as tolerable as him would be worth the risk. If it did not work out well, I would deal with it then.” You shrug helplessly. “I think I’m just too stubborn by half and twice as foolhardy. A month ago, when this part of everything began, seems so long ago. But I’m very happy with where we are now and with you.”

“Is that so?” Dale can’t seem to help himself from asking.

“Yes.” Luckily telling him so gets easier every time.

He leans forward to peer at you, unblinking in his examination. Your breath catches in your chest as you wait him out. 

“So strange, you really seem to mean it.” He looks away to stir his tea. 

You find you’ve leaned towards him and are in danger of falling off the bed. You hurriedly hoist yourself back a sensible distance so you don’t look quite so eager. Hopefully by the time he looks back at you the heat in your cheeks can be blamed on the fire and tea. 

“Some humans have used me as a tool, others a weapon. Some were civil about it, others were not—whether using bribery or punishment to attempt to deal with me. None dealt with me as an equal.” He says so casually enough it takes an additional second for the pang of sorrow for his sake to hit you. 

He looks back up, that earnest light in his eyes. “Despite all that, I still wanted so badly to be here. After the first taste, I tried to learn everything I could of the Surface. I’d not managed to join a new clan or other group by then, so I started trying to mark out my own territory in the shallows. Where I might see more of the Surface. I even attempted to find a way to go it alone up here, but shades are just a bit too… delicate? We need an anchor—a vessel—or we fade.”

“So you focused on humans who cut holes into the Depths,” you surmise, even if you feel a pang of disappointment that you’ll never see him without Dale’s human body, on his own. You wonder if the brief glimpses you saw during his fight with Two were close to what he looked like naturally. Maybe you could still see some of what he was underneath.

“Precisely,” Dale replies. “I learned better how to spot the lures humans dropped, how to tell who they were aimed at and how powerful the one casting them was and so on. Not that I was always correct in my estimation and there are others—other demons—who want to go to the surface as well. Even ones who might be able to in their own forms tend to still prefer to travel up a line a human dropped to ascend. Competition was fierce.”

You try to think of what to ask, without making it obvious you want to know everything he could tell you. Hopefully he would, eventually, but what did you want to know tonight? “Were there any other journeys here that you thought might have been what you wanted?”

Dale frowns before he slowly nods. “One. Time moves differently between the planes and matters less in the Depths, passes differently too so I can’t say for certain how long ago it was. Decades on the Surface,” he settles on, “but less than one below.” He sighs and there’s a little whistle to it that makes it sound more like the wind than a human letting out some breath. The whistle is eerie and pretty at the same. You want to know what other sounds Dale can make. “It did not work out as I’d hoped, but it was the closest I’d come.”

This is the most wistful you think you’ve ever heard Dale and you are so eager to learn more. “What happened?”

“You truly wish to know?” Dale’s not arguing with you, but you can see he doesn’t understand your interest in this. You’d thought this is what he wanted to share, but maybe he was expecting questions more along the lines of the specifics of what he is or what his plans are. After this morning and the wedding, you’re not nearly as anxious about that as you were yesterday. You don’t need reassurances he’s not going to hurt you or leave. You merely want to know him better.

“It has no bearing on the current state of affairs. I promise I’ve no desire for another life,” Dale reiterates, looking earnestly at you. “As I said, this was the finest stroke of luck I’ve ever come across.”

You can’t help but smile because honestly, his arrival ended up being a pretty perfect stroke of good luck for you too. “I believe you,” you reply, hoping to soothe him. You’re not deterred. “But these events had an impact on you, did they not? A strong impact.”

“Yes,” he allows. “They did.”

“I only want to get to know you,” you say, hoping your unadorned words will help him understand you.

“Very well.”

You frown at his continued reluctance. “If you do not wish to tell the tale, I’ve no desire to force you.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, his hand brushing some of the hair that’s escaped his tie back from his face. “It might clarify some of my actions to you.” You still are not convinced he wants to speak to you of this. You can have patience. You open your mouth to say so, but Dale admits, anticipating your words, “And I’ve never had the opportunity to tell this story to anyone. So if you wish to listen, I will gladly tell of it.”

You are getting better at reading him after all, you realize, be cause you believe him. You relax back onto the bed. “Yes, please.”

“It was in Khinat, though the group was not entirely from there,” Dale says, setting the scene. The far off look is back in his eyes, the shadows’ movements more rhythmic than the typical chaos from a fire. “They were a band of thieves, who wanted to steal, well, a number of precious items from a palace.” He gives one slow blink, as if giving you a second to object to such criminal behavior. As if you weren’t aware most dabbling in demonology that weren’t scientists were mercenaries and the like. You doubt he had much choice in the matter and theft was always more palatable to you than harm caused unto others—not that they couldn’t overlap.

When you only wait patiently, Dale continues, “They wanted more than human advantages on their side. Their caster bound myself and two others to three of their fellows. My vessel, he did first. He’d not been sure of how much energy it would take to get the depths he wanted and so he had that human written in as a secondary sacrifice. Sure enough, he’d not provided enough energy and the human’s life energy was drained in the summoning process. It was the first time I’d been in a vessel with no mind to compete with beyond memories.”

“That caster had been a foul man, callous and arrogant,” Dale flexes one of his hands angrily at the memory before clenching it into a fist. “He bound me tight in that body. The other two demons he summoned were controlled by their humans with excessive strength. One human was able to handle it properly. The other was not and did survive to the end of the quest. The one who survived kept the demon bound to him as his reward while I was told that I could have the human body and my freedom if I cooperated. I saw this as a great opportunity, even if I disliked most of the other members of the group."

“I can understand why," you acknowledge. It was obviously more appealing for Dale to not have to share a body, even if it meant someone else died—at least it was not by his own actions. It certainly painted the humans involved in a negative light, cruel to sacrifice someone in such a test and then use their body after their death. And while you know demons can be violent too, this manner of binding stinks of slavery to you. "Even if they sound like a reprehensible crew."

“Yes. There was one who had been, not captured as the one who became my vessel had been, but coerced to a high degree,” Dale says. You sit up straighter at the gentler tone that has entered his voice. "She was the appraiser—the one who could tell the decoy artifacts from the genuine. Rather than wait until after the heist, the leader compelled her to join with a combination of bribery and threats. She needed the money, and wished to keep her life, and so complied." 

Dale seems to be lost in his memory and so you only need to nod to prompt him to continue.

"I performed reconnaissance and scouting. She utilized that information to ensure we had the correct targets. We became close over the time spent together, preferring each other's company to the rest," Dale's voice gets even softer and you hate the insecurity it sparks through you because you can see where this is heading. You don't like discovering you're a jealous spouse—you hadn't been with the original Dale, but then again, you'd not truly wanted him, or wanted him to want you, the way you did with this Dale. "She knew the terms of my service, that I would get only my freedom and nothing more, so she invited me to return with her to her hometown and then beyond. She was taking this payment and leaving her life in the city behind. A fresh start for both of us, she said.”

You could see why such a prospect appealed to Dale, and possibly even to this woman, who sounded like she had found herself in far over her head. You’re waiting though, balanced on the edge of a cliff, because you know by virtue of Dale standing here with you, that this story will not end well.

"It was the longest I'd been on the surface for and had full control,” Dale says, lost in the memories. “I learned and enjoyed as much as I could, even under the circumstances.” 

You can picture Dale, not having to hide his nature with the crew, and testing his limits with the same eager attitude he sometimes displayed. 

“Not that the lessons learned from the rest of the group were useless,” Dale adds, coming back to the present somewhat. “I’ve been applying some of those skills recently to the investigation into the assassins.”

You blink, pulled out of Dale's story. "You have?”

"Yes," Dale says, as if still worried what you might think of this part of his past. Like he wants to show he's useful beyond his impersonation of Dale, which has never something you needed convincing on. "Of course, I’ve been trying to pull what useful information I can from Dale’s memories, his knowledge, of his network of informants, and so on, but I do know something on my own of information gathering, of meeting with unsavory characters and how they operate. Ensuring those I have contact with can and cannot tell I am Dale as appropriate."

"I'm glad you've had the experience because I don't know where I would have begun," you admit because you are and you want him to know that you value what responsibilities he’s taken on. "My family might help if I had asked, but they are busy with their own matters. I certainly have no network of contacts, especially not for figuring out who might have hired assassins."

"Yes, well, you would not have acted in a manner that would prompt someone to send assassins after you." 

You smile at the affront you hear in Dale's voice. "I'm glad you think so. I don't think if you'd been Dale at the time that you would have either."

Dale gives you a lopsided smile. "I'm pleased you think so, but I'm not so certain. There's still much I'm learning and my experience, my loaned memories—they are not always the correct preparation. I'm grateful to your aid and Grandmother and Grandfather for their clear expectations. Besides, as you've pointed out—rightfully so—my control still needs fine-tuning. Within Northridge, that’s the greater concern.”

While you've worried over the same thing yourself these weeks, here in this room—with Dale, and honesty, and your marriage—you no longer feel like that’s a true looming threat. “Now that we can work together, I’m certain we can prevent that from happening.”

“Thank you for your confidence,” Dale says, pleased. “I’ve simply never been able to stay and so inherently find the prospect hard to trust in.”

“I’d imagine so,” you reply. “From your story, it seemed like a true possibility, but you weren’t able to stay, were you?”

“No,” Dale sighs. “It was a lovely month—my longest stay until now. We did succeed to the leader’s satisfaction and he paid us both as promised. Even the journey to her home was uneventful. At first. That’s when it all fell apart.” 

Even knowing that something was going to go wrong, it still made your heart clench at the despair in Dale’s voice. That he was here now, meant that he couldn’t have stayed then, and you selfishly want to be the one—want this life to be the one—that makes him happy. You still hurt for the hope you can see he had and lost.

“While I thought she understood my situation,” Dale continues, “it turns out she had not.” You frown, what did he— “She thought I was like the other two, a human sharing a body with the demon, except that I hadn’t asked for it the way the other two had. She thought freedom meant the caster had rid me of the demon, not that I was the demon being given a body. She thought she’d been talking with a human the entire time.”

Oh, your first thought is once you’ve digested that, no wonder he hadn’t thought you knew. He’d deceived this other woman by accident. Perhaps that is even why he seemed so careless—why he’d called humans oblivious. He’d said before he’d been testing his limits of what he could do and she’d still not caught on. She must have been shocked, particularly if her experience with demons had been tainted by the other members of the group. “Oh, oh no.”

Dale nods, resigned sorrow in the lines of his face, aging him. “When I finally realized what was happening, I told her the truth.” His voice flattens, “She did not take it well. Refused to believe me at first. She was angry and unsettled and—but then,” the corners of his mouth lift in a facsimile of a smile, “she seemed to accept that I had been myself the entire time. That our relationship was genuine. She was a little more standoffish, more hesitant, than before but she was a good person. Forgiving. She still wanted me to come home with her. She didn’t abandon me.” You can hear a lot in that statement, thinking back on his family.

“I thought given time,” Dale continues softly, “she would be able to accept me. And so I followed her home, right into an exorcism.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t help but get to your feet. Carefully, you approach Dale. He watches you with wary eyes, but doesn’t move away, doesn’t ask you to stop. “She’d written home ahead of time,” he blurts out and you reach out your hand to entwine your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. You know he can appreciate this much at least. “Her mother, a sanctif, set everything up. She believed I’d deceived her purposely and was still attempting to use her to some nefarious end. I was shoved back down into the Depths within the day.”

“Dale…” You say, running your free hand down his arm in what you hoped was a comforting gesture, but you’ve no idea what else to say. No wonder he hadn’t believed you knew.

“I thought I was so clear with who I was!” Dale exclaims, looking frustrated and sad. The shadows flicker, and his teeth grow sharp, and his hair seems to have burst from its tie entirely. His fingers stay entangled with your own and his grip is so light. It’s primarily you holding on to him. “And she was so kind, so understanding. We’d known each other for weeks. She saw me—” 

He cuts himself off with a frustrated growl. You feel the sound through the close air between you and through his body. You don’t know how to make him feel better. Had he said he’d never even spoken to anyone of this? It all must be so bottled up inside him. You hope talking about, telling you, is releasing some of the pressure. You want to pull him into an embrace so badly, but you don’t think he wants much more contact than this. 

He inhales, a shiver that goes through his entire body before he stills. He pulls his inhuman influence back into himself that the room seems more static than before, like a painting of a room instead of a true one—Dale, a statue. He looks down at you with his glowing blue eyes, only two of them, and mostly looks forlorn. “And she was convinced that she did what had to be done, I could see it, once trapped. The righteousness in her. Looking back, I should have realized her concerns over what we were doing, how the demons were used by the other humans—she had been disgusted with the use of them, of me. I simply thought it was the binding, the control over another, she disagreed with. In the end, I think she was a purist, who thought none should cross the planes and all should stay in their own realm.”

It was a popular belief, one that waxed and waned throughout the centuries but never truly went away. You sigh and keep your hand on Dale’s arm, not his cheek. “I’ve heard of that school of thought. I’ve never studied much about the planes or demons, not enough to have a strong opinion. I know there is a lot of danger when realms mix, but I also think that those are the instances everyone hears about because if there are demons here or humans Below that are doing just fine, well, there’s nothing to say or hear about, is there?”

Dale relaxes at your every word, at the way you continue to hold his hand, stay close—not move an inch from his side. “Yes, that’s my stance as well.” He frowns, “Do not misunderstand me, there are plenty of dangerous individuals who are a perilous risk to all around them, regardless of where they are and what they are. Demons have done serious harm on the Surface, but humans have been to the Depths and done damage too.” 

That’s not something you’d considered, though you’ve heard tales and speculation of those who ventured there. You know Dale knows this, but he must feel so defensive given the attitudes of so many, including that woman and his grandparents. 

“In the end, I can only speak for myself. And I wish to live here.”

You take his other hand in yours and clasp them both. “You do live here now. We’ll work together to make sure it stays that way. I can help so much better now that we are on the same page, I promise.”

“Thank you, sana,” Dale replies warmly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “I now know you’ve already been doing more than I ever expected. I admit I didn’t entirely follow all of what you said about what aid you have provided over this past month—besides the holy water. I take it that now it was your intention to be the primary target?”

“Yes, I didn’t know Grandfather had holy water,” you admit with a shrug “but the gesture, the fall… It struck me as suspect so I reacted without thinking.”

“How else have you helped?” he asks, heartfelt gratitude in his voice. “I have done my best, but I’m still learning. Dale’s memories—my own from my other visits—are a great aid, but I can’t always understand why certain things are done or what human limits are. I estimate the correct action as well as I can and hope small slips do not arouse too much suspicion.” He shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“I imagine so, I would never be able to maintain any such deceit of my own person.” The very idea of spending the rest of your life pretending to be someone you’re not is exhausting, but somehow helping Dale do the same seems so much more manageable. “I’m happy to aid you.”

“When else have you, if you don’t mind my asking?” Dale insists. “If I’m far more oblivious than I’m beginning to suspect, you need not enumerate all such instances if you’d prefer to go to sleep at some point tonight.”

You smile at his self-deprecating joke, but you’re not one to boast of your own accomplishments and you’ve no desire to make Dale feel worse—your reaction this morning had been quite enough. “I…” You want to fidget but you don’t want to let go of Dale’s hands. “I tried to help where I could as an unfamiliar person to give you time to work through your memories. Then as you said, your control isn’t perfect. Most of what I did was merely misdirecting others from noticing additional eyes, strange shadows, hungry shadow tails with a penchant for cheese.” You give him a significant look at that one and he looks mischievously unrepentant.

“I get hungry!” he defends himself. “I need a lot of fuel to keep myself and this body running smoothly.”

“Clearly,” you reply dryly, although you note it for later. “Other than that, some of Grandfather’s attempts to prove I’d cursed you were aimed at me, but some were aimed at both of us or were in danger of affecting both of us. You managed the High Sanctif fine on your own, but I did ensure we were away from Dr. Louisa and Grandfather after you touched her detecting gloves.”

“Her what?” Dale asks, baffled and curious. An additional eye opens below one of the usual ones, already trained on you. 

“She’d just given a demonstration before you and Grandfather joined us. Your hands were stained due to some substance she developed.”

“Oh.” All his eyes blink. “Now that you say so, I did notice a bit of a stain when I retired for the evening, but I thought that was from ink. No wonder I couldn’t recall when it had happened.”

“Quite.” You search your mind, for other instances, feeling strange laying them out after working so hard to conceal them. “I tried to help you gauge your strength with the games before the tournament so you did draw suspicion with the jousting itself. Not telling everyone what else I saw of you during the fight with the assassins wasn’t a challenge—especially since I didn’t see that much as it was. I did try to ensure I helped treat your injuries first, in case you needed the time to regain your control or were injured in some inexplicable manner.”

“I appreciate that, sana,” Dale says with a warm smile and an emphasis on your ‘healer’ nickname, “but I did make sure not to return until I was entirely human, knowing I might be under heightened scrutiny. In some ways it was easier that night since I was tired from having used so much of my demon attributes in the fight and chase. Too tired and I’ll get sloppy—that’s why I only was in public for short periods right after taking control of Dale’s body—but there’s a sweet spot, or so it seems.”

“I’m relieved you’ve managed as well as you have then,” you reply with a crooked smile, “even without exhausting yourself.” 

“Still, obviously I have not been doing as well as I’d presumed.” Dale frowns, “My sense of what humans will notice is obviously skewed. I’d appreciate your help in—”

A crackle and pop from the fire as a log shifts and falls in the pile cuts Dale off. He lets out a strange noise, a growl but lower register and more of a continuous, less rough sound. Like a hiss. The shadows writhe around him. He lets go of your hands to put himself between you and the fire, one shadow in particular shoots out like another limb or a tail to wrap loosely around your shoulders, the end of it facing the danger. 

Hearting beating wildly from the noise and Dale’s reaction, you try to calm your breathing. “Just the fire,” you say, then fear creeps down your spine. “Right?”

Dale looks at the fireplace for an extra second, before he deflates, pulling back in on himself. “Yes.” He looks at you cautiously, as if wondering if you’ll judge him for overreacting or for showing so much of himself when you were just discussing how he needed to do better at just that. “I apologize. My form is quite instinctive.”

“It’s alright.” You place your hand on Dale’s upper arm, turning him back towards you. “I think we’ve both been on edge these last few days.” You want to get back to where you were, sharing and together. You want him calm once more because he deserves to be after the journey to get here. “What do you mean by instinctive?” you ask, wanting to know more, wanting to figure out the right way to tell him that it was okay. You didn’t mind. His inhuman traits might still surprise you, but they never frighten you. He’s mesmerizing and thrilling and so much more than human. It's actually one of your favorite things about Dale.

He takes a measured breath, clearly wanting to follow you back to normality. Well, normality for you two. “While anchored to this body, my essence is still mine to command as well. It flexes and forms according to my desires and instincts as it did when I was only a shade. I try to keep that within or hidden, however...

You wait with baited breath, so interested in anything to help you understand the most obviously inhuman part of him.

“If I am curious, I create more eyes with which to observe. If I need more reach, I grow more limbs.” His lips quirk, as if remembering what you said earlier, “If I am hungry, more mouths.” You smile in recognition. Dale continues, a frown you recognize as one where he’s trying to translate what this means for him into meaning you can parse, “In many ways, trying to control such manifestations is anathema. Attempting to maintain a neutral facial expression when someone is trying to make you laugh.”

“I see.” It’s a helpful comparison. You remember the games you played in your dorm—including that one. Everything thinking of ridiculous or scandalous things to say in order to make the others break and laugh. It also makes his reaction of putting himself between you and potential danger all the sweeter. “Then perhaps I have not given you credit for the control you do have.”

“I’m sure you’ve given me precisely the credit I deserve,” Dale says wryly, some stress leaving him as he speaks. “It sounds like this is the aspect of my deception you’ve helped most with and I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful to be here, with you.”

“Me too.” You stare up at him, feeling the firm muscle of his arm under your hand, the tightly wound tension still present despite your attempts at reassurance and distraction. You want to truly take his mind away from everything, more than you want that for yourself. You want to relieve the stress you’ve both been under, enjoy what you now have. You want to make Dale not just grateful for not being betrayed, but truly happy—with you.

A clock strikes the hour, obvious as it breaks the silence between you. Dale steps back, picking up his forgotten cup of tea. “It’s getting late, I don’t mean to keep you awake after such an eventful day.”

“I’m not—” you start to protest before cutting yourself off. If Dale wanted a polite path out of tonight’s typical obligations, you should let him. You muster up a small smile, hoping what disappointment and frustration you feel reads as exhaustion. “Yes, I suppose it has certainly been a long day.”

You walk over to the tea table to put down your cup, gathering your leftover supplies. Telling yourself you’re not stalling in the hopes he changes his mind and wants you as a spouse and not simply a confidant, however much you’re enjoying being one to him. 

As you move, you’re uncomfortably aware of your chemise. Despite being soft and well made as it is, you feel awkward in your nightclothes. A pretty, but slipshod attempt to make this night something Dale never wanted. He’s still in his waistcoat, for star’s sake. 

The garter you’ve on around your thigh is the most uncomfortable and you try to remember if your maid had actually tied it with a purity knot. With a pang, you recall her checking it was still tight when she helped you out of your other clothes after arriving here. Surely, you could figure it out on your own despite its supposed notoriety for being unable to be done by a person who can’t see the knot itself. That’s why it was tradition to do up a betrothed’s garter with it. 

But what if you couldn’t? What would be worse? To ask Dale for his help now so you might leave with some dignity after it was undone? Or to leave and have to return for his aid then? No, worst would be to do neither and have your maid be the one to untie it in the morning and know you weren’t enticing enough to tempt your husband into doing so himself.

Regretfully, you turn around, back to where you’d been sitting earlier. “Before I go to bed,” you start, lifting your foot to place it on the ottoman at the foot of his bed.

“What are you doing?” Dale cuts you off, his voice raising in alarm at the end of his sentence when you begin lifting the hem of your chemise.

You give him the driest look you can manage, hoping it hides your embarrassment. “It’s our wedding night, Dale. No one else knows we’re discussing your inhuman nature. They’ll assume we were occupied elsewise. And they’ll ask you about it.”

“Ask—,” Dale sounds personally offended, as if he’s forgotten how certain people will act—because they’re nosey or crude or lack tact. “Not in any sort of—,” he stops and starts again, staying rooted to where he stands instead of making himself useful. “You don’t need to—”

“The garter was tied with a purity knot,” you cut him off before he can continue to prove all your communication issues are not over by not taking a hint and damaging your ego at the same time. You try to remind yourself of all the compliments he’s paid you instead reading into the look of mild panic on his face now when confronted by the mere sight of your bare leg. “I need your help taking it off.”

“You do?” his voice sounds a bit weak, almost reluctant, and you swallow down another wave of disappointment and embarrassment. 

“It was tied very tightly and specifically,” you say, grateful your voice, while a little strained, is otherwise close enough to how it typically sounds. “I can’t manage the knot, especially since it’s behind me. You should probably have it regardless.”

Dale blinks and some of his frozen posture thaws. He has that look you’ve seen multiple times, especially in the last few hours—he’s remembered some bit of human knowledge. Hopefully, he chalks this whole experience up to an oddity of humanity and nothing further. “Of course, yes. I don’t know how I forgot about this. One of my cousins tried to convince me to wear one as well this very morning—Grandfather didn’t leave me alone once I told him I would be getting married after all.”

You have to work hard to keep your facial expression from showing how pleasing you find the image of Dale with a matching yellow garter on his leg that you would have gotten to carefully untie, like a present on Midwinter. 

He walks over to you, less nervous, but still cautious. You resume pulling your chemise up, hoping he doesn’t think this is some sort of deliberate seduction—caught between hoping you don’t look foolish and wishing he at least found you somewhat pleasing.

Carefully, you hold up the hem to just above the garter, the lace feeling even tighter to your skin. You have to suppress a shiver when you see Dale’s eyes on your bared skin. He reaches for you, a single finger twirling in the dark blue ribbon—which matches his own suit. His eyes dart up to your own for a split second, his pupils already noticeably dark and blown wider. You know they don’t react like humans do, and probably only mean he’s trying to see in better detail, but you feel goosebumps break out across your skin. 

He finally grasps the garter itself and gives a little tug to turn it so the knot is towards the front. It’s tight enough that he moves your leg more than the garter. You murmur an apology, one hand on the low footboard of the bed to try to hold yourself steady.

He shakes his head, waving off your apology. “Why on the Surface is this so tight? My apologies for not helping you with it sooner.”

Your own dismissal of his apology is cut short when he wraps the fingers of his right hand around your upper calf, right below your knee and tries again to turn the garter. His grip is strong and unyielding, keeping you in place for him to work and making desire pulse through you at the obvious display of strength. He gives up when the garter’s only made a quarter turn. Since he’s at your side, that must be helpful enough. 

You swallow down a bereft noise when he lets go of your calf to use both fingers on the laces. Carefully, he pulls out the ties’ ends from where they were woven back into the garter—another reason they’re hard to undo by oneself. Then he sets to work on the knot itself, his fingers continuously brushing your skin as he tugs and pulls. 

He’s so close to you like this, practically looming over you, crowding you against this end of the bed. It would be so easy to fall and bring him with you, on top of you. A knot of a sort twists itself between your legs from his proximity and his touch. You desperately want him to untangle that one too. 

He leans closer to see better and it's so unfair. Why has the universe let you get so close to what you want but left you unable to grasp it?

Dale’s noise of triumph causes you to look back down at him as he slides the garter down and, with even more room, off. “There we go,” Dale says, his voice low and soft, with a little bit of smug pride at having finished his task. Before you can lower your leg, he hisses in sympathy. You look down to see lines pressed into your skin, a stark reminder of where the garter had been. 

You can feel blood flowing back into that area and it hurts more than it had before Dale had untied the garter. Dale reaches back out for you and rubs his fingers over the marks. “This must have hurt, my apologies once more.”

You shake your head as you fight to keep your eyes from fluttering in appreciation of Dale’s strong fingers massaging that part of your upper thigh back to life. “Thank yo—” you cut yourself off with a gasp when Dale’s fingers drift to the inside of your thigh, which is far more sensitive—not to mention how much closer it begins Dale to where your appreciation is making itself known, gathering at the apex of your thighs and threatening to drip down to where Dale can’t help but notice.

Another stroke of his thumb provokes a hum of pleasure from deep in your chest that you can’t contain. Dale breathes deeply before he finally looks away from your thigh to meet your eyes. You can’t even see any white left in his eyes: his irises are a vibrant blue, glowing with soft light, surrounding dark, wide pupils. 

He’s not breathing at all anymore, which you only notice because you have to resist the urge to pant. Then he lets out a sigh, his voice like the wind as he breathes, “You’re so beautiful.”

“You, what?” your voice is high and breathless as he leans closer. “Truly?”

“Yes,” his reply is swift, barely having to think about it. “Of course.” At your continued look of wide eyed surprise, he elaborates, “I was nearly ready to retract my calling off the wedding, no matter my attempt at being better than my nature, when you came to see me simply from how you looked alone. The reminder of what I was giving up.” 

His eyes slide up and down your form, before he leans so close your foreheads are nearly touching. His voice is low and almost distracted as he says, “Dressed up so pretty for me.” He moves one hand from your leg to tuck one of your curls behind your ear. “My healing ray of sunshine.”

Heat shoots through your veins at his half-lidded gaze, at his words, at his breath on your lips. “Dale…” Your voice is pleading to a degree that surprises even you. You don’t have time to feel self-conscious about how needy you sound when Dale groans in response, his lips covering yours the next instant.

Soft but insistent, he pushes everything away except for the feel of him pressed against you. The hand still on your thigh, gives a little squeeze, while his other hand cups your cheek, as he’d tried to this morning. He pulls away for a second and your hands wrap themselves in his waistcoat to keep him near. He seemingly needs no persuading as he goes in for another kiss. 

His teeth, sharp as they are, tug only gently on your bottom lip, little pinpricks of sensation that send shivers down your spine. You push your hands up his chest and onto his shoulders as you open up to him with a sigh.

His tongue is hotter than the rest of him as it slides into your mouth and you melt in his grasp, wrapping your arms more fully around his neck to keep yourself some semblance of upright. Your pulse thrums with desire as he moves against you and it's all you can do to hold on tight. The flick of his tongue sets your blood simmering. His thorough kiss ignites a hunger in your bones. He pulls back eventually, remembering you both need to breathe, but you don’t care. 

You’ve spent so much time at his side, unable to go after what you truly wanted, ask for what you truly want to, that you tighten your hold on him as best you can so he can’t drift away again. Without realizing it, the word “please” falls from your lips to linger in the shared air between you.

Dale’s head tilts back, which is the opposite of what you want, but it seems it’s only to better look you in the eye. “Yes?” He looks startled, despite how you’ve been acting, but eager.

“Yes.” You nod emphatically, past the point about appearing foolish as long as he understands.

“You’d taken this so well,” he says, that same bewildered hope that had sprung up when you said you wanted to marry him back in his eyes. He kisses your skin just below your ear while his hand slides up your side. “I didn’t want to press my luck.”

He captures your mouth in another deep kiss, seemingly unable to help himself

“Uh-uh,” you say once you have a moment to breathe and the wherewithal to speak. You feel drunk on his kisses, the rest of the world and its concerns lost in this heady haze. “This is my reward for getting us here.” Somewhere within, you find the courage to ask, “Haven’t we earned it?”

“More than twice over,” Dale breathes before he sits down on the bed and holds out a hand, “Come here.”

[marsprincess889]

Me getting political

🇬🇪🇪🇺

So, I know I mostly only really talk about vedic astrology here, but I'd like to speak to the very same audience who found and followed me because of that about what's going on in my country. So, followers, dear mutuals, those couple of ppl I know irl who are on here, or someone who randomly found this_please, read and interact. (!!!please)

For context, the vast majority Georgia, mainly gen z, has been protesting a "foreign agents law", which is almost identical to the law that russia passed in 2012 and that has resulted in significant restriction of the freedom of its citizens. So, eurovision, met gala, whatever.... this is the reality my country lives in.

I had no idea so many people from other countries were this misinformed about georgia(in general)? People thinking photos from our massive protests were not from here because we have "police" written in english and not "policija"(which is not a fcking georgian word??????)?

People thinking america funded, I repeat, MASSIVE protests that have been going on for a month(and have also taken place in the march of last year for the same reason), just because some of the protestors wrote signs in english? Like, the sheer idea of that is honestly infuriating.

I don't think anyone who has not lived in Georgia will understand the situation clearly. The government is ordering to beat up peaceful protestors, is using pepper spray on them.... and most of the protestors are teens and young adults, trying to make a better future for themselves and for generations to come, tired of fighting the same fight that their parents and grandparents have fought.

When you are born georgian, patriotism is instilled in you like vow. I was born in 2002, a decade after my country exited the soviet union, fresh out of the notoriously hard and dark 90s(full of poverty and crime), six years before I started school and russia invaded the city of Gori. We learned all the poems and novels of our great writers, learned the stories of them fighting for freedom of speech, for the freedom of our country, our teachers would explain every detail of their astristry and their importance. At some point I think we all got tired of it, no matter how loving and full of care they were, but then I remember the presentation my class did in sixth grade about february of 1921, how Georgia exited the russian empire in 1918 and how the brand new(at the time) constitution was implemented just a few days before the red army came in 1921... MY PARENTS were born when Georgia was in ussr, my mother had to spend her years as a young student in the 90s in constant fear of danger on the streets, our parents saw the worst of it and did everything in their power for us to live in a better environment. But we're first generation in georgia who grew up with internet, who is fluent in internet slang and is way more informed, with a completely different mentality, for whom the decades of oppression is more distant. We know russia is an enemy, we know what our country has gone through, but we are the first gen with the freedom to speak up when yet another attemp to control is made.

We have a very long and rich history and one thing that is clear from it is that we are supernaturally resilient, and our refusal to be subdued has protected not only ourselves, but countries that lie west from us, the countries that make Europe, that we consider ourselves a part of.

My friends know I'm the quickest to say that I feel like I don't belong here(georgia), that I never really connected to what I saw, generally, in my country, but maybe there are thousands like me here. Maybe(100%) the men in power haven't been paying their due respect to my generation and how persistent we have been in our actions and convictions. And maybe, the rest of the world(western countries) have significantly undervalued our importance. We deserve our due, and to me, the least that others can do, is to educate themselves before typing or speaking about us.

We are not a "former soviet country", we are an ancient civilization with an extremely unique culture that has survived to this day, that has protected its customs, identity and the right for freedom, and has been under almost constant threat for losing them. And, once again, if there was any doubt, we are not our government.

I sincerely hope for this to get as many notes or possible, or at least, to reach the right people.

[aftonfamilyvalues]

how women on here are reacting to the boxing situation is the final straw for me with radblr tbh.

like imagine this scenario for a second: people are making false claims about you that you not only can easily disprove with a simple, uninvasive test, but you've ALREADY DONE said test in the past so you'd just need to ask them to publish the results. you can debunk these claims with the same amount of effort required to push a button.

but you don't. you have Literally The Easiest Option In The World to prove you're right and you don't do it.

and yet because women have created their own OC for this guy in their heads who is a female with androgen issues they'd rather defend their self-made blorbo as a way to peacock about how "yes all women" and/or "not racist" they are than do 2 seconds of research and critical thinking to realize "hey maybe this situation that fits literally all the criteria for the dude being a male, including the fact that he's been previously disqualified from competing in the women's league TWICE yet shows up for the Female Olympics anyway, means he's actually just a liar and cheater"

i'm open to having some sympathy for him if his parents (tried to*) raise him as a girl but like. he's a fucking adult. he took a sex test. he knows who he is now. he's making his own decisions. one of these decisions is choosing to hide who he is.

*idc how misogynistic his parents are in believing "no vagina??? but no penis. no penis = female. because female = non-male.", if they knew he had a male-specific dsd that coloured how they raised and treated him, even if they tried to hide it. the act itself of hiding it from him and trying not to raise him that way makes their treatment of him already inherently different from how they'd raise him if he were actually female.

link here

im going to try to go about this in the most respectful way possible.

i cant say i agree with everything youre saying here. theres still a lot of misinformation about this and i cant say a slatz tweet is very satisfying for me given the racist and homophobic things ive seen from her. but, if what you say is true, that this boxer is an intersex male who was assigned female at birth, i think its completely unfair to treat her entirely as a man. the community tends to regard itself as a place for intersex women too, those with this particular dsd were not spared misogyny just because they unknowingly had xy chromosomes. learning they are biologically male with a dsd doesnt mean they have a desire to completely restructure their lives and identity around being men, i think thats kind of insane to expect.

that being said, i think there needs to be a reevaluation of fairness in sports and how intersex people fall into it. what advantages or disadvantages do intersex women carrying a y chromosome have over those that dont? what male charactistics (bone density, for example) still exist in these women? do they pose a danger to other women in their sport? what about other intersex conditions? at what point does it become unfair? unfortunately it could lead to their exclusion, and if that happens will there be another place for them? theres a lot to consider and things will have to change as we learn more. its not really a black and white situation in my opinion.

[ask-an-epidemiologist]

So how do you change an anti-vaxxer's mind, anyway?

First, understand that sometimes, the answer is simply: you can't. Some people are very firmly entrenched in anti-vax narratives, and will become extremely aggressive in response to challenges.

Second, understand that in this case, saying nothing is better than saying the wrong thing. Becoming hostile, or expressing judgment (no matter how well-deserved) is likely to entrench them more into these conspiracies than it is to make them see reason, making them less likely to be receptive to even gentle challenges in future.

Third, understand that change isn't something that happens after a single conversation. It takes repeated discussions, and a lot of building up trust, to start making people change their minds.

So, then, how do you change an anti-vaxxer's mind?

First step: understand why anti-vaxxers feel this way. This can be summed up in one word: fear. Irrational fear, but fear nonetheless. There are a lot of reasons they may have gotten to this point. They may be deeply distrustful of physicians due to past experiences. People of color in the United States are very prone to vaccine hesitancy and refusal, not because of conservative views, but because of the racist history of the medical institution- in particular, the atrocity known as the Tuskegee experiments. Some, particularly those in the United States, are very prone to distrusting the medical-industrial complex, and extend that skepticism to vaccinations as well. Some may have encountered misinformation, such as the infamous Wakefield farce, which convinced them that children were in danger of being autistic (which is still heavily stigmatized) if they became vaccinated. There are also other reasons, but these are the most common.

And how do we deal with other fears people have? Empathy.

How to have an empathetic conversation about this issue:

First, you need to do just that: have a conversation. Ask open-ended questions, and listen to the answers no matter how much they anger or upset you. The most important and most simple: "what are your reasons for not trusting vaccines?" Other good questions are, "why do you feel this way?" "Are you interested in receiving information about vaccines from me?" "How can I help you work through these difficult feelings?" You need to then tailor your conversation according to how they respond.

You need to build trust with the person you are talking to. If you are in a position of privilege over them, particular if you are white and they are black, you cannot attempt to speak over their concerns about bias in the medical community. This also includes disabled people who no longer trust doctors to have their best interests at heart. Empathize with their concerns, don't erase them, and then segue into the facts. "This is an unfortunate reality, and should never have happened to you. May I share a counterpoint about (specific issue), with the understanding that this does not erase the systemic biases in the medical community?" It is worth noting that breakdowns in trust in the doctor-patient relationship are a key factor that leads to the development of antivax attitudes. This person already feels they can't trust their doctors or the government, and they have, in desperation, turned to a community of other afraid people to be heard. If you remember this, you will have a chance here to gain their trust and be an ambassador for vaccination.

Another way of building trust is to emphasize to them that your goals are aligned. They want what is best for them and their kids, even if they are misguided, and so do you. One rhetorical strategy (that is, incidentally, also used by lawyers in jury trials) is to ascribe positive traits to this person, and then challenge them to live up to it. "I know you love little Tommy very much, and want him to be healthy. I want him to be, too. I am sure, since you care for him deeply, you will look into this issue thoroughly."

That last point is also key. You need to start small, as counterintuitive as it might seem. Don't come right out and say for them and their children to get vaccinated; they need to make that decision by themself. Instead, say that you have information about vaccines that you would like to share with them. It is especially good if you have something saved for a particular claim they made. If, for example, they believed the Wakefield study, there are many refutations out there you can show them. If they are concerned about mercury, you can explain that the kind of mercury in vaccines isn't the "bad" mercury that we find in tuna- and even if it was, there is less mercury in the vaccines than there is in tunafish. Keep it focused, and keep it neutral; one claim at a time.

It is very likely that they will respond to you with a study of their own. Read it carefully before responding. "I noticed that the Wakefield paper has since been retracted. Here is a peer-reviewed study that reaches a different conclusion; it seems worth examining."

You need to show that you are actively listening to what they have to say, and that you appreciate them talking to you. "Thank you for trusting me to talk about this." "Thank you for showing open-mindedness." No vague-posting about anti-vaxxers, no eye-rolling, and no distractions while talking to them.

Another key for showing empathy is to make sure you acknowledge the root of each claim. You don't need to repeat it like a parrot- but for example, using the mercury example above, "it is understandable that you fear mercury! Normally, it is a dangerous substance. Thankfully, there are different kinds of mercury, and the one that can make you sick, methylmercury isn't the same as ethylmercury, which is the one found in vaccines."

Don't start right with debunking myths; always begin with an affirming statement ("that must be scary" or "I know there is a lot of information out there; you must be overwhelmed trying to sort through everything!") before pivoting to correcting misinformation.

Keeping your tone positive in nature is also very helpful. You don't have to be shooting rainbows from your mouth/keyboard, but positive statements help build trust and make people more receptive.

Remember that debunking myths is only one part of what you are seeking to do here. If the person you are talking to starts to feel like you only want to hear their thoughts so you can correct them, they will stop sharing them. No one likes to talk with someone who only wants to be right, even if they ARE right!

Unfortunately, these steps may not work. Sometimes, despite your best efforts, the person won't be receptive. That's okay. Simply tell them again that you are here if they have questions, and you wish for the best for them and their children. Let them come to you if they change their mind.

And please remember, above all else: while these are important conversations, you are never obligated to accept verbal abuse. You have a right to have your boundaries respected just as much as they do. If the person you are talking to name-calls, uses bigoted language, mocks you, wishes bad things on you, etc, it is okay to walk away. Maybe they'll be ready to hear it one day, maybe not, but you don't need to set yourself on fire to keep anyone warm here.

I hope that this guide helps you if you are interested in discussing vaccine hesitancy and refusal! Please let me know if you need anything clarified.

[thegreatmelodrama]

Let’s talk about Sunrise on The Reaping; more specifically, the choice of the setting in which this book takes place.

Sunrise on the Reaping will begin with the morning of the reaping for the 50th Games (a.k.a. The Second Quarter Quell), which, as we know, are the Games that Haymitch competed in. Obviously these games have particular significance because of Haymitch’s perceived act of rebellion in utilizing the force field to win the games in a last act of survival. Such relates more literally and directly to the themes of propaganda and misinformation which Suzanne sets out to explore within this book. More specifically, there is a lot of room to explore the ways in which people in the Districts and the Capitol perceived this, but also to explore the ways in which the Capitol went about framing this to the public and the propaganda which most likely ensued following this act. Even, then, the Quell is such a specific and unique event that the propaganda that goes into these Games in particular is also fascinating as they are meant to further emphasize and reiterate the Capitol’s framing of why the Games exist in the first place: a reminder of what happens when you defy the Capitol (I say framing because TBOSAS showed us how Snow and Gaul perceived the existence of the Games).

However, there’s also a particular metaphorical interpretation of the choice of Haymitch’s Games as well.

If you recall from Catching Fire, the defining feature of these Games was the arena’s beautiful and flawless environment, with it being described as “the most breathtaking place imaginable”. However, it appearance proved to be a facade masking an environment that was filled with dangers. The mountain turned out to be a volcano, and nearly everything in the arena was lethally poisonous (e.g., the flowers when their scent was inhaled directly and the water in the stream). If I recall correctly, only the rainwater and the food from the cornucopia were safe to consume. That is, the arena itself in many ways is a metaphor for propaganda and the use of misinformation to trick people into believing falsehoods. Once you become exposed to cracks, which comes from getting to close, it becomes a question of “real or not real?” at every twist and turn. However, the dangers of the arena both internally and externally in the form of the Capitol government, also point to the powers of the State in controlling its people and the submission which ensues—both from force and also the ability to utilize propaganda to keep citizens in check.

[fwckriley]

Sometimes I wonder if some of y'all had sex ed in school, 'cause there are things I read in your posts that are like 😐 bro, that's scientifically proven wrong. And it's kinda dangerous to spread disinformation. Like, some people here are minors and we know they read NSFW content, so like... maybe be a little more responsible?

What I've read about the pull-out method here... 💀Pulling out won't save you from pregnancy. And pregnancy is just one of the many possible problems when having sex without a condom.

QUICKLY UPDATE: Guys you can’t be that naive. Assuming you're an adult who grew up with the internet, YOU KNOW that when we were younger, we accessed this kind of content, regardless of warnings.

And that's why you do need to be careful with what you post. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying you should stop posting what you want, after all, what's stopping you? Nothing. You're free to post whatever you want on the internet, but then you can't exclude yourself from the responsibility that you DO contribute to spreading misinformation. And no need to come here and write a long text trying to point out why you're not to blame, sorry, but it's a FACT that you are spreading misinformation, and you are responsible for it.

Crying and trying to argue here won't change anything because the reality is one: You are responsible for what you do, and how the consequences of your actions reflect in society - because we live in a society. And a side note, because someone sent this to my inbox, I see this argument quite a bit, which by the way is terrible, the “author's note”. Folks, most people don't even read this. It ends up being only for peace of mind. 🤷‍♀️

[just-antithings]

When antis go on about "writing fictional problematic ships will ruin the young impressionable minds" i just dont take them seriously.

1. theres a certain assumption that impressionable people will only copy fictional media and that the impressionable person will seek out taboo themes within that fictional media instead of avoiding it.

2. everyone has someone around them that they'll copy, someone that will leave a sort of 'influence' on that persons mind before they even can read, even if its just a passerby with a simple comment. that can stick in someones mind and it can be useless or useful, harmful or helpful. fiction is not the only way for impressionable people to be influenced by bad things

3. i feel like there's this idea that the people around the impressionable person are blank slates who showcase no opinions, no emotions or no physical reaction to anything and does not speak about anything regarding emotions, boundaries, relationships etc so the impressionable person is not able to get even a grasp from whats right or wrong unless it's from the internet

so what im curious about is why do the fandom wank go full force with fanfics / fanart and not touch upon about how irl people can fuck you up with how you view the world or even just share resources on healthy relationships, how to enforce boundaries etc or go after any real people for that matter who promote bad shit like those 'self help gurus' that spread dangerous misinformation and dangerous ideas (like the dating courses that say shit like if a woman says no shes playing hard to get). obviously i dont think they should be harassed but it definitely should be talked about if antis were really so concerned about peoples safety

i personally have the assumption they only value a fictional character over actual children, not only because their reasonings for how fanfic is 'normalising' shit which is fucking stupid but the first thing shouldn't be 'Fiction is at fault' when talking about kids (who are not the most reading inclined demographic and not the target audience for more graphic works that *might* influence them) it should be more 'What are kids being taught or why are they not being taught this' ,

for example why aren't kids being taught how to make sure to place boundaries, why do they not know whats a healthy relationship, why are they not being taught about what is and isnt illegal and are they being taught how to be safe etc.

the biggest part of peoples lives are school, family and friends. not the random ass fanfic authors and fanartists who just like being creative.

sorry its so long, needed this off my chest

.

[theantarwitch]

About medicine in witchcraft: Health spells, Professional Healers and Unprofessional scammers (And two healing spells from me)

Lately I have been seeing a dangerous amount of medical dangerous videos in our usual witchy spaces (specially in Instagram, since I refuse to use TikTok) and that bring me here in one of my long rants who nobody really cares. But, as a healer with lot of medical background, I have to.

First, for the love of your deity, don’t take these damn vids seriously. I’m not a doctor but I know enough that a huge ton of what they put there is medical misinformation dressed as mystical powers.

I’m not asking you to become a doctor, but at least remember: Physical symptoms are NEVER caused by one single illness, and you HAVE to rule out all the possible physical illness before even consider it a symptom of your superpowers.

Yes, some minor things like a random ear ringing or a random tingle on your hand doesn’t need you to run to ER, but at least THINK about mundane causes to it.

Your ear ring? Are you using headphones a lot? Loud music? You shower and water entered on your ear? You are taking meds? Stress? Your neck is stiff and affecting your inner ear? You are neurodivergent?

Your hand tingle? Is the same hand in what you use your phone 20 hours at day? You sleep over that arm? Your shoulder is stiff? You use a mousse a lot? You practice a sport and the nerves are tired? Did you drink coffee or Red Bulls?

And I’m not even mention REAL illnesses, this is just a bunch of mundane causes! So how you dare to believe in more deeper topics of spiritual stuffs, if you have zero critical thinking in something so mundane and basic as your own body? How you plan to be an efficient witch if you don’t even doubt about these things? How you even dare to talk about your deity if you believe anything as a sign?  

An advanced witch bases their path in three big needs:

Need of study (Books or google, spend months or YEARS reading and learning)

Need of critical thinking (Think, think and ask, be curious and compare data, question it)

Need of wise skepticism (Don’t fall into the “The government want me to believe this but I’m smarter” or “Vaccines do harm, people don’t need calcium, there is brick’s dust on ketchup” kind of mindset (Yes, these are things I heard). That’s not skepticism, that’s being a Facebook Boomer Mom. Skepticism is question everything and to always be suspicious, but is neither “don’t believe in anything because I’m so smart that I can see the lies”.

And healers, my beloved healers. As one, I have to say it on the most real way: LEARN SOME MEDICINE. Specially before to do public claiming that can really hurt others.

Why learn medicine? Because as happened once… A lovely lady did a spell to lose weight. She got gastroenteritis and spent a week on the bathroom. She lost weight? Yes. In a dangerous unhealthy way? Yes. She recovers her weight back after go to the doc? Absolutely.

The body is a fine machine, a ton of process, hormones, parts, that you will always ignore and omit.

Another big mistake: “Spell to Boost my Metabolism”. Do you even know what a metabolism is? What it does? Do you even know that it has three main functions of metabolism? (Conversion of the energy to run cellular processes; conversion to building block of proteins, lipids, nucleic acids, and some carbohydrates; and the elimination of metabolic wastes). When you “boost your metabolism”, what you are aiming to do? You even know what your body need of these three…

“Spell to boost my Immune System”… Again, what part? Do you even know that your immune system is “slow” or it is just working against an illness as it should? (Reaction is not the same than an immunodeficiency) Are you aware that your body can be doing great and you will be pushing to get an overactive immune system? (And getting Asthma, Eczema, Hay fever, Food allergy and any other kind of allergy, Lupus, Type 1 Diabetes, Inflammatory bowel disease, Celiac, etc.).

Please, if you use “detox spell” in any way, just stop. Period.

If you are not willing to spend a couple of weeks at least in the damn Wikipedia, or you are in a rush, at least aim big and general, do a classic “Health/Healing spell”, that is focused on that, bring health where is needed. “My body gets healthier. My body gets health where is needed” It can’t go wrong, since you purposely don’t specify where or which part, you just do a “Somewhere I need it, and since I can’t know it, the Cosmos may know it and aid me”. If you need spells to focus a healing in a body part, maybe you need a doc, not a spell…. (Get a doc. If is so simple to not need a doc, then your body will do it without need a spell anyway)

You can also do the same with Physical Strength Spells (again aiming to boost what you don’t know what it needs to be boosted and avoiding to boost something that it DOESN’T NEED IT).

And if you are a Healer who really want to have a 90% of effectiveness on focalized and specialized healing spells, then time to study. You will need to know about hormones, chemicals, physical process, all the systems, nerves, bones, nutrition, meds… And pretty much being able to discuss with you client (to put in a way) about literally all their medical history.

And a gently offer to anyone who actually read all this shit, I give a couple of “simple” ideas for you all:

Regeneration Spell: Just a Healing spell, aimed to “attack” where is needed, but it focusses in a cellular level. General Healing spells usually are so general that include things like disposal of waste, mineral absorption, water absorption, digestion, hair growing, skin growing, muscle develop, and pretty much EVERYTHING that’s happening on your body right now, even including the gut bacteria. A Regeneration Spell will focus in each single cell of your body, from skin to bone, to neurons, to T Cells from your immune system. All. Something that your body do (except with the neurons) but that get slower with the age. This spell focus on restores damaged or missing cells to full function (you can help it to happen better with a good balanced diet, some basic exercise, proper sleep, and trying to reduce stress)

Big warning. BE SPECIFIC “My cells will get regenerated where my body need it to be healthy and in full function” or something like that. Why SO specific if the healing spells are general? Because Cancer.

Yes. Cancer. A cancerous tumor is failed cell of your own body. Our beloved bodies kill around six infected or cancer cells each DAY. Eventually (if you live enough or if your immune system gets weak) one of them will grow your body be on troubles. If you do a regeneration spell without that proper aim, you will also help to any cancer cell to regenerate, hence you can cause you a HUGE DEAL in a future. Will not happen 100% of the cases, many of these tumors can be not cancerous (benign) yet give you problems.

How do the spell? Just as any healing spell. Do your way.

Homeostasis Spell: What’s is homeostasis? Is the condition of optimal functioning for the organism, a state of steady internal physical and chemical conditions maintained by living systems. Is a stable self-regulated process of equilibrium between interdependent elements. In simple words, is the perfect state of full pure health of your body. Is a healing spell without the “but”.  

What it affects? ALL in the most basic small internal way. Body temperature, fluid balance, the pH of extracellular fluid, the concentrations of ions, blood sugar, oxygen, hormones, etc. If the body do it properly, then is balanced, in an optimal functioning, hence healing itself without big issues.

This spell helps specially (or BOOST) the body on regulate itself despite the many changes in the environment, diet, or level of activity. In this case, you don’t need to be specific, since homeostasis seek for health naturally. Do your regular healing spell but like “My body reach homeostasis”.

So. Rant and all made, I think is time for me to shut up. See you around, and check if you need drink water, sleep, rest, stretch, food, meds or hygiene!

[jozor-johai]

Dorne, Shown not Told: how Darkstar is more than his reputation.

Darkstar used to bug me as a character—not necessarily because of his edgy dialogue, but because the way he was written: he's not on-page for very long, so we're really told much more about him than we are shown anything.

I've seen this same complaint voiced before, and almost always it's brushed over as an inherent failure of Gerold as a character, or other arguments that presuppose a lack of faith in Martin.

I can understand why, without deeper analysis, some people try to make the Doylist argument that Darkstar must be lazy writing by Martin, something along the lines of "I have to introduce this guy quick, so here's a bunch of backstory told by a bunch of characters". Instead, though, I argue that this situation of being "told" so much about Darkstar is actually the Watsonian perspective of his character; it is Arianne who has been told so much about him, and we're experiencing her misconceptions.

I've come to realize that the feeling of being "told" about Darkstar, with a focus away from what we're "shown," is fully intentional. With this different approach to interpreting Darkstar's character, I've found that not only do I like him so much more as a character in-universe, but I also like him so much more as an element in George R R Martin's writing. Melisandre might be his "most misunderstood character," but I think Gerold Dayne must be up there too.

I don't understand why it took me so long to see it: ASOIAF is all about the way that information—or misinformation—spreads and changes the course of action and history. Of course this would be a theme to look out for. Once I started to dig more into this idea in relation to Darkstar, I realized just how prevalent this theme was in the Dornish arc, which is entirely about the way that people are told something, and the way that being told these things—even without evidence—has such an impact. That's what the companion post to this one is about.

If you've read that post already, and now I've got you on board to doubt the reputation that Darkstar has, and to doubt the story Arianne was told about him, this is the post where I rebuild Gerold's character from scratch, and convince you that he's actually an alright guy, a trustworthy one, and possibly even a true knight. Maybe, even, he's worthy of Dawn, and the title of "Sword of the Morning."

I'm sure I'm not the first to suggest this, as it's been so many years, but it's exciting to experience a moment of realization that makes me see the writing itself in a new light, so I wanted to share my thought process here.

2.0 Gerold Dayne, shown not told.

In this part, I attempt to look at Gerold Dayne as if I were Areo Hotah, not Arianne: to watch what he does and says, on page, rather than take anyone's word for it, and rather than interpret his actions against a prejudice that he is as dark and dangerous as Arianne thinks. This way, I want to see what kind of man Gerold Dayne actually shows us he is, through his actions and interactions, rather than who we're told he is.

Beyond just doubting Doran's story because I don't believe Doran to be trustworthy, here I'll be explaining why I think that once we get to know Darkstar as best as we can, maiming Myrcella doesn't even really sound like something he would do.

This is a long one too, like the other one, so the rest is after the cut

2.1 Early good impressions—by being early

We don't see very much of Darkstar on-page, so let's start with our very first impression of him, in the second paragraph of the chapter:

Arianne Martell arrived with Drey and Sylva just as the sun was going down, with the west a tapestry of gold and purple and the clouds all glowing crimson. The ruins seemed aglow as well; the fallen columns glimmered pinkly, red shadows crept across the cracked stone floors, and the sands themselves turned from gold to orange to purple as the light faded. Garin had arrived a few hours earlier, and the knight called Darkstar the day before.

We don't know when they arranged to meet, but I think there's room for a symbolic meaning to Arianne arriving just as the sun goes down. Symbolically, the day ending as soon as she arrives mirrors the way that her plan is going to end as soon as it begins.

In addition, it's a signature of Arianne's character this chapter, moving just slightly too slowly. In this way, Arianne is already more like her father than she wants to admit—remember the overripe oranges falling in The Captain of the Guards, or how Areo knew that Doran saying they would leave at dawn meant midday. Arianne is the same—she arrives to her own plan at dusk.

Even without that comparison, Arianne's late arrival is emblematic of her inability to structure a plan as carefully as she believes she can, which is also something that haunts her for the rest of his arc. Consider the meaning of this for her: she is the head of this plan, and yet she and her two companions are the last to arrive. Garin beats her to the rendezvous place by a few hours... and Darkstar is almost the opposite extreme. He gets there a whole day early.

Perhaps that's suspect, perhaps that's responsible; this alone is not enough to say. For a certainty, though, this clearly positions Darkstar as someone who is, say, the opposite of the "Late" Lord Walder Frey. He's a man who comes early, not late.

As the chapter continues, it's not the only time that Arianne lags carelessly while Darkstar vouches for a more responsible course of action, so keep this in mind. This passage sets the tone for the rest of the chapter.

2.2 What makes a man "Great"?

The next time we see Darkstar on page, we get his first line of dialogue and his first actual on-page action. He juts in while the others are talking about the storied hero who is Garin's namesake:

"Garin the Great," offered Drey, "the wonder of the Rhoyne." "That's the one. He made Valyria tremble." "They trembled," said Ser Gerold, "then they killed him. If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great?" He snorted. "I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own." He unsheathed his longsword, sat upon the lip of the dry well, and began to hone the blade with an oilstone.

There's a lot to unpack here for such a short passage. To begin with, we can interpret some of Darkstar's values from his additions to this conversation. He clearly has a certain pragmatism, because he chooses to see through the veneration that the stories have afforded "Garin the Great", and points out that his cause was actually poorly met. In this way, Gerold might come off like a humorless spoilsport, but we can also consider the fact that he's already learned some of the lessons that other characters, like Sansa, have been forced to face: reality does not match the songs, and not all "heroes" are good people.

Gerold also shows a concern for the ranks of the military. It's not about one man's veneration for him, it's about the success of the plan—and the survival of the men who act on it. This is actually the same concern for Dorne that Doran is obsessed with, at the end of The Watcher:

"Until the Mountain crushed my brother's skull, no Dornishmen had died in this War of the Five Kings," the prince murmured softly, as Hotah pulled a blanket over him. "Tell me, Captain, is that my shame or my glory?"

Doran has spent a lifetime hemming and hawing over this notion, unsure of whether to act or to wait, and choosing inaction over decision. By stark contrast, Gerold speaks with a casual certainty: "Garin the Great" was no good at all, because all his men died, and he lost. It might make him sound like a cynic, but Dayne knows what he believes in. Leading men to their death is no greatness at all.

2.3 Choosing one's own name

And, now knowing his thoughts on blind veneration, we might reinterpret his decision to invent his own nickname. Rather than grasping for approval from in songs (like Tywin's Rains of Castamere), his act of naming himself could be seen as a sign of honor, not blind pride.

"If I led a quarter of a million men to death, would they call me Gerold the Great?" He snorted. "I shall remain Darkstar, I think. At least it is mine own."

He does not believe in misjudged "bravery" for the sake of a title, and therefore is unlike so many others who we see across ASOIAF ready to die fighting in their desire for glory. Rather than dreaming of becoming immortalized in a song, Darkstar has no lust for public approval—he's given himself his own title, and means to prove himself against his own standard.

And at least it is his own. ASOIAF is a story where so much weight is put into names and epithets—Arya and Sansa losing their names and even their chapter titles, Brienne and Jaime fighting against the disparaging nicknames they are given. Here, Darkstar has already proven himself past all of those troubles with this one action—regardless of whatever names others should call him, or even remember him by, he shall go by this one, the name, and the fate, that he chose for himself.

2.4 Honing the blade

And then, immediately, Gerold starts caring for his blade.

He unsheathed his longsword, sat upon the lip of the dry well, and began to hone the blade with an oilstone.

Interestingly, the list of people who hone their blade on-page is surprisingly short. This shared action puts Gerold in league with the likes of Brienne:

I will, she promised his shade, there in the piney wood. She sat down on a rock, took out her sword, and began to hone its edge. I will remember, and I pray I will not flinch.

And also the likes of Yoren, Arya, Jon, Meera, Barristan, and Hotah himself; all of whom are dutiful if not also generally good-hearted. Ilyn Payne and Rakharo, care for their blades on-page, too, and though I'm not sure if they get enough story time to argue whether or not they are good-hearted, they are certainly pragmatic, skilled, and committed. Bronn, too, hones his blade on-page, and even if not good-hearted, he's these other positive qualities, the ones that make him likeable even in his scoundrel status: Bronn is skilled, pragmatic, dedicated to his craft, and even committed after his own fashion (he does name his adoptive child Tyrion, after all).

Better tying this to a morality case, the first time we see Sandor Clegane caring for his blade is after the Red Wedding, after he fully commits to taking in Arya. Similarly, Jaime is only seen caring for his blade in Feast and later, after he begins to have his own character turn towards searching for honor.

In stark contrast, Theon pulls out his blade to "sharpen" it before facing his father in Clash, but he only "gave it a few licks" with the whetstone ... what a total poser.

(It's a silly thing, but the most minor character we see sharpening a blade is a stray Blackwood... so you know these are the good guys, haha. Oswell Whent, too, which I don't make much of myself but I know others have.)

So, when we see Gerold Dayne start to sharpen his blade as his first on-page action, we might think: here is a man who is responsible, who is committed to duty, who believes in taking care of his person and his honor. Tying little actions like this to character qualities is the kind of thing GRRM does frequently.

2.5 Sober attitude

To a similar end, we also see that Gerold Dayne doesn't drink, preferring water with lemon.

Once the kindling caught, they sat around the flames and passed a skin of summerwine from hand to hand . . . all but Darkstar, who preferred to drink unsweetened lemonwater.

Which puts him in league with Brienne again:

"I would prefer water," said Brienne. "Elmar, the red for Ser Jaime, water for the Lady Brienne, and hippocras for myself." Bolton waved a hand at their escort, dismissing them, and the men beat a silent retreat.

As well as Stannis, paragon of "duty":

But not today, I think—ah, here's your son with our water." Devan set the tray on the table and filled two clay cups. The king sprinkled a pinch of salt in his cup before he drank; Davos took his water straight, wishing it were wine.

Again, this is the kind of quality that is associated with people who are attached to their sense of duty. (Note also that as Brienne feels increasingly lost during her search for Sansa, we see her increasingly drink wine. Roose, for his part, doesn't just drink wine, but wants wine sweetened with sugar and spices, which, like Littlefinger's minty breath, covers up his harsh reality).

So Gerold Dayne, in word and action, seems to have more in common with duty- and honor-bound characters, rather than being the heartless rogue which the Martells seem to believe he is.

2.6 Arianne's imagination versus Gerold's reality

Arianne asserts that Gerold would go so far as to exterminate an entire clan... but it's while she's fantasizing about ruling Sunspear with Myrcella as Queen:

Once I crown Myrcella and free the Sand Snakes, all Dorne will rally to my banners. The Yronwoods might declare for Quentyn, but alone they were no threat. If they went over to Tommen and the Lannisters, she would have Darkstar destroy them root and branch.

So we know what Arianne thinks he's capable of, but we also have heard Dayne's own thoughts that war for its own sake is not laudable. Would he really be the type to eradicate a whole family, like Arianne says? So far, he seems otherwise like an alright guy, and potentially even a true knight, so far: he takes care of his sword, he stays sober, he arrives early, he's not searching for glory from others, and he doesn't believe one should be rewarded for idiotic wars.

If I were to put this in a single quote—if I could create a single moment where I might show that Arianne's mental image of Darkstar is one way (hard, dangerous, mean) and his reality was a different way (dutiful, pragmatic, and good-hearted)—I might show it like this:

He has a cruel mouth, though, and a crueler tongue. His eyes seemed black as he sat outlined against the dying sun, sharpening his steel, but she had looked at them from a closer vantage and she knew that they were purple. Dark purple. Dark and angry. He must have felt her gaze upon him, for he looked up from his sword, met her eyes, and smiled.

Does he have a cruel mouth, and dark, angry eyes? Or does he have an easy smile? Arianne tells us the former... but so far, we are shown the latter.

And what does Gerold himself say with that "cruel tongue"? What counsel does he give, what courses does he suggest?

2.7 Gerold's bloody suggestion

Before Myrcella arrives, Gerold Dayne has the chance to offer counsel to Arianne. This moment comes directly following that moment where all of Arianne's other conspirators confide that they don't trust him, and that they don't need him for the plan. Immediately afterward, Darkstar returns and suggests that the plan isn't very good to begin with.

Dayne put a foot upon the head of a statue that might have been the Maiden till the sands had scoured her face away. "It occurred to me as I was pissing that this plan of yours may not yield you what you want."

While all of Arianne's friends have warned her of Darkstar, why is it that Darkstar is the only one to warn Arianne that this is a poor plan? It's important to remember that he's right, after all, because this plan gets thwarted, and as he goes on to say, was ill-concieved to begin with. If he can see it, why have none of Arianne's other allies considered this? Or, more interestingly, why have none of them told her?

This conversation continues, and notice how Arianne is never straightforward with Gerold about how she feels in response to his questioning. She says one thing, and then thinks another to herself. Already, we are being shown how we might be distrustful of what we are told—and again, Arianne has more in common with her father than she thinks. She knows how to speak carefully when she really has another objective.

"And what is it I want, ser?" "The Sand Snakes freed. Vengeance for Oberyn and Elia. Do I know the song? You want a little taste of lion blood." That, and my birthright. I want Sunspear, and my father's seat. I want Dorne. "I want justice." "Call it what you will. Crowning the Lannister girl is a hollow gesture. She will never sit the Iron Throne. Nor will you get the war you want. The lion is not so easily provoked." "The lion's dead. Who knows which cub the lioness prefers?" "The one in her own den." Ser Gerold drew his sword. It glimmered in the starlight, sharp as lies. "This is how you start a war. Not with a crown of gold, but with a blade of steel."

At first blush, it's easy to get caught up in the notion that Darkstar is simply offering to kill Myrcella for the ease of it all. We're told the whole chapter that Darkstar is a violent man, and here's the evidence.

Arianne herself only considers this interpretation, and it's how she remembers the conversation once she's imprisoned:

He wanted to kill her instead of crowning her, he said as much at Shandystone. He said that was how I'd get the war I wanted.

However, this conversation, though brief, is not so simple as that. Instead, while Gerold's advice to Arianne here at first seems unnecessarily violent, he's actually displaying wisdoms that we learn elsewhere in the story.

For a start, we see Gerold's disdain for vengeance for it's own sake—and his suggestion to Arianne that this quest of revenge and authority will not actually get her what she wants. In Gerold's words, she wants "a taste of lion's blood." He knows this song, as he says, as well as Ellaria, who gives an identical warning with far more impassioned language to the same audience ADWD The Watcher:

"Oberyn wanted vengeance for Elia. Now the three of you want vengeance for him. I have four daughters, I remind you. Your sisters. My Elia is fourteen, almost a woman. Obella is twelve, on the brink of maidenhood. They worship you, as Dorea and Loreza worship them. If you should die, must El and Obella seek vengeance for you, then Dorea and Loree for them? Is that how it goes, round and round forever? I ask again, where does it end?" Ellaria Sand laid her hand on the Mountain's head. "I saw your father die. Here is his killer. Can I take a skull to bed with me, to give me comfort in the night? Will it make me laugh, write me songs, care for me when I am old and sick?"

Gerold says it more simply, and more harshly: this quest for vengeance and lion's blood will not get you what you want.

He then tries another angle, saying that "Crowning the Lannister girl is a hollow gesture. She will never sit the Iron Throne. Nor will you get the war you want." This sounds, at first, like a complaint of the plan's futility, but he offers a suggestion of how to achieve said war instead: "Not with a crown of gold, but with a blade of steel."

I have to point out the metaphor at use in this moment:

Ser Gerold drew his sword. It glimmered in the starlight, sharp as lies.

A blade as sharp as lies—yet another allusion to this constant Dornish theme of lying and deadly misinformation. Seen from another perspective, we might put it another way: that lies are as deadly as a blade. This, too, is Doran's message: that the grass which hides the snake is just as deadly.

This too is Gerold's message, because in combination, his suggestion that crowning her is empty and to kill her is simpler sounds like an allusion to another wisdom we learn later in ADWD Tyrion I, given by Illyrio when Tyrion alights on the same bright idea as Arianne, to crown Myrcella:

"In Volantis they use a coin with a crown on one face and a death's-head on the other. Yet it is the same coin. To queen her is to kill her."

Gerold understands this, and he displays it in this conversation. His offer here, then, is to skip the trouble in between—the girl will never sit the Iron Throne in any case, so Arianne should just kill her and be done with it, and have your war that way.

Rather than a threat against Myrcella's life, the way Arianne remembers it, we might see this as a challenge: if Gerold sees that both acts end in Myrcella's death, and both in war, he's presenting Arianne reality of the lack of choice.

In a way, this is consistent with his earlier complaints about Garin the Great—was it worth it to make Valyria "tremble" at the cost of so many of his own? Gerold's question, though harshly put, makes Arianne face that question now, before they start off with the plans.

Like her father, though, Arianne defers the problem, preferring not to address it this night.

I am no murderer of children. "Put that away. Myrcella is under my protection. And Ser Arys will permit no harm to come to his precious princess, you know that."

Arianne makes the choice, but she does not say it aloud. Why? Because even she sees that it's contradictory to raise her up and expect her to live?

As we see so often with Arianne, she foolishly answers that it's not her responsibility. Myrcella may be under her protection, but Arianne relies on Ser Arys' action to keep it that way. Arianne tries to argue that the weight of this threat to Myrcella is not Arianne's burden to take, but rather Arys'.

Darkstar disagrees, pointing out the longstanding rivalry between the Dornish and the Marcher Lords.

"No, my lady. What I know is that Daynes have been killing Oakhearts for several thousand years." His arrogance took her breath away. "It seems to me that Oakhearts have been killing Daynes for just as long." "We all have our family traditions." Darkstar sheathed his sword. "The moon is rising, and I see your paragon approaching."

Finally, though, actions once again speak louder than words. Rather than pull his sword here against Arys, like he was just threatening to do, he sheathes his sword when he spots Arys, obeying Arianne's command. So far, whatever he's said, Gerold is still committed to following Arianne's wishes.

His threats about Daynes killing Oakhearts has another layer of meaning, though, in this complete context: Daynes have been killing Oakhearts, yes, but it's not just Daynes who wouldn't blink at killing a Marcher, it's all of the Dornish—as Arys is so intimately aware of in his one chapter.

As much as Arianne is dodging responsibility, she's also right that Arys is the final obstacle in anyone's way should they wish to do harm to Myrcella. Note, though, that despite the story Doran and Arianne later tell the Sand Snakes, it is not Darkstar who slays Arys—it's Areo Hotah. If we say that actions speak louder than words, hear this: Gerold sheathes his sword when Arys approaches, and it is Doran (through Areo) who kills Myrcella's most leal protector.

Given all the trouble Doran later goes to in an attempt to smooth over Arys' death, Gerold is probably right here that a dead Arys means war. Once again, Gerold is a pragmatic thinker, in theory. In my opinion, despite the cruelty of his suggestion, his conversation about the death of Myrcella is a reality check, not a call for wanton violence.

2.8 Gerold's good counsel and care

Later comes the second time where Arianne lags carelessly... and here, Gerold steps in to give Arianne good counsel.

Arianne had hoped to reach the river before the sun came up, but they had started much later than she'd planned, so they were still in the saddle when the eastern sky turned red. Darkstar cantered up beside her. "Princess," he said, "I'd set a faster pace, unless you mean to kill the child after all. We have no tents, and by day the sands are cruel."

Here, contradicting the stories of Gerold Dayne as a cruel man, Darkstar seems to show more direct concern for Myrcella's wellbeing than any of the other plotters. Arianne—like her father—moves to slow, and Gerold wants to make sure that the girl isn't killed. He's not just pragmatic in theory, he can also be pragmatic and considerate when it comes to the young girl with them.

Here, also, we see that Gerold does not actually mean the girl harm. The accusation that Darkstar slashed Myrcella implies this narrative where Darkstar took advantage of the chaos to finally take his chance to kill the girl and make good on his threat. If that were the case, then here Darkstar could have simply said nothing, and let the girl suffer or even die from the heat. Instead, he speaks up in order to spare Myrcella from the sand's cruelty.

2.9 Gerold's opinion of Arthur Dayne

With all of this context, I'll finally take a look at Gerold's opinion of Arthur Dayne.

As she led the princess to the fire, Arianne found Ser Gerold behind her. "My House goes back ten thousand years, unto the dawn of days," he complained. "Why is it that my cousin is the only Dayne that anyone remembers?" "He was a great knight," Ser Arys Oakheart put in. "He had a great sword," Darkstar said. "And a great heart."

He clearly loves the Dayne house, but seems to have less respect than most for Arthur. Many and more have taken this to be a sign of petty envy, that Darkstar is questioning Arthur's skill at swordplay, perhaps in comparison to his own.

But consider the quote another way: we know from his opinion of "Garin the Great" that Gerold resists the idea of blindly idolizing heroes only because they have become great in the telling. This newer hero, Arthur, is no more special to him. What has he actually done, not what stories have been told of him?

Once again, this is a return of our theming: being shown, not told. Gerold is quick to resist the allure of the songs of Arthur Dayne—to Gerold, there are plenty of other Daynes just as special, or perhaps even more so. This is not a lack of love for his house, nor for honor and glory—quite the opposite. Like with choosing his own name, Darkstar wants to create his own context to see Arthur in, as part of a ten thousand year old lineage of great Daynes (ha) and not some special, magic knight.

Perhaps Gerold Dayne is pointing out that there is more to a knight than having a sword; perhaps he is condemning the idea of equating "swordplay" with "greatness".

What we hear about Arthur is more often than not about his prowress with a sword, but consider the context in which Arthur Dayne was brought up in this chapter. When Myrcella brings him up, his reputation is marred by the fact it's own existence:

"There was an Arthur Dayne," Myrcella said. "He was a knight of the Kingsguard in the days of Mad King Aerys."

Not the most good-hearted of details to remember him by, truth be told.

I suggest that this passage instead serves to suggest that Gerold has a stricter sense of what is valorous than most. Even the great, seemingly infallible Arthur Dayne was a sword in defense of the Mad King. Does serving the Mad King still make for a "great knight"? Or only a "great sword"?

Of course, there's another interesting aspect to this quote: despite his disregard for the particular qualities of Arthur, Gerold is more than willing to acknowledge the greatness of the sword Dawn. I'll get into that at the end.

2.10 Gerold sues for peace

Finally, in his final appearance on-page, we get a last word from Gerold Dayne, who, this time, says exactly what Arianne is thinking... when she, again, is too slow to act, and is unable to say anything herself.

You reckless fool, was all that Arianne had time to think, what do you think you're doing? Darkstar's laughter rang out. "Are you blind or stupid, Oakheart? There are too many. Put up your sword."

Darkstar suggests to all that they surrender. He suggests they put up their swords. Yet again, this is a consistent characterization for Darkstar: a man who speaks against the honor of leading others in a death charge, a man who is a sober thinker, a man who plans to arrive early, and a man who considers heavily the consequences of the actions at hand, especially when they end in the death of a young girl.

After all this, I don't think it sounds like Darkstar to make a wild, reckless, opportune grasp for Myrcella's life, no matter whatever Doran says. Instead, Gerold Dayne has all the trappings of a dutiful knight, and even his brusque edges come from a certain brutal realism, not a sense of jilted pride. He may even be a good and caring man at times.

3.0 My predictions for TWOW: GRRM's next moves

I used to really not like Darkstar. I don't mind him being a little cringe, because this whole series, as well written as it is, still has plenty of pulpy 80s underpinnings which I love just as much as the highbrow stuff. I can handle a little melodrama, fine... but why is Darkstar so flat, I wondered. It felt so incredibly—uncharacteristically—clumsy to have this hurried introduction of a character, and have everyone in the chapter rush to tell the reader how dangerous he is, just so he could do the "dangerous guy" thing and run off to become the next MacGuffin of Dorne.

That is, if everything, or anything, that we were told about him is true.

If we understand that not all we're told is true, then GRRM hasn't actually spent a whole chapter telling without showing. Instead, he's been consistently playing with the same notions of actual reality vs. stories and lies that the rest of the Dornish plot revolves around (and the rest of the series, for that matter, but I'm staying focused here).

In addition, all of that telling we got about Gerold Dayne wasn't at all for the purpose of giving us a quick, surface level introduction to the character (which makes sense, because George is otherwise so good with character). Instead, all that telling is part of a larger, longer plot about Doran's scheming and lying, and Arianne's own susceptibility to Doran's stories.

Finally, and most of all, it all sets up one of GRRM's favorite things to do: a subversion of a character in a twist that involves a sudden change of perspective.

If Arianne and Doran have spent 4 (or 5, including TWOW previews) chapters now telling us what a nasty guy Gerold Dayne is, won't it be a shock once he's granted Dawn rightfully and is named the next Sword of the Morning? What's even better is that, looking back, it will be clear to see how much he isn't a nasty guy—he's actually a pretty good candidate, dutiful, smart, aware of the consequences. He's the kind of guy to take care of himself, keeping his mind and blade sharp, and to be considerate of those lesser than him, as with Myrcella or Garin's army. He may not be a nice guy, but being nice and kind are not always the same. That character of Darkstar, the knight worthy of Dawn, was there all along—except that it was all obfuscated under Arianne internal narration and Doran's repeated lying.

After all, he is of the night... which sounds super edgy, but is foreshadowing too. What comes after the night? The Morning.

Being "of the night" might not be Darkstar being an antihero, but instead being anti- heroes, he's against the concept of the overinflated hero. Like Sandor Clegane, who starts to seem more and more a true knight despite despising knights, Darkstar may be set up to take on a legendary mantle, like Sword of the Morning, despite his utter disdain for legendary heroes, like Ser Arthur and Garin the Great.

And actually, I suspect that Darkstar is quite familiar with Dawn already—after all, despite his cool words about Ser Arthur, Gerold Dayne does seem to recognize the greatness of Dawn. I expect that he's seen its value for himself.

Gerold is the type of man to take himself seriously ... and while that's very easy to make fun of from a reader's perspective, it's a very admirable quality in a knight. It's the same trajectory Jaime has been on: everything used to be a joke to him, but no longer: Jaime is learning how to shed that shield of humor and to take himself and his honor seriously. Can we begrudge Ser Gerold the same?

Rather than hunting down a villain, Areo Hotah, Obara, and Balon Swann are on Doran's truth-suppression mission. For after all, as Lady Nym pointed out, loose ends make for exposed lies. If I replace some of the names of her cautionary message from The Watcher:

If Gerold Dayne is alive, soon or late the truth will out. If he appears again, Doran Martell will be exposed as a liar before all the Seven Kingdoms. He would be an utter fool to risk that.

And so Doran sends his unbeatable Hotah, with his massive and lethal axe that already killed one Kingsguard and might well kill another. How is Gerold Dayne going to match up against that?

Well, he'll have a great sword.

[marzipanandminutiae]

re: your recent post about the Houthis and how you thought the free Palestine movement was all in agreement and specifically this paragraph -

"kind of makes me concerned that some people who say they're censuring Israel for the right reasons- ... -have something more sinister going on"

sadly, a whole fucking lot of them do not, in fact, care for Palestinians - or at the very least, not at much as they hate jews.

we have been talking and yelling and shouting about the amounts of rancid antisemitism overtaking the entire political spectrum, and it seems very few people listen to us. I'd like to add just a few posts that might make my point clear - took me about 3 minutes to find them

https://www.tumblr.com/spacelazarwolf/738972445267165184/people-call-you-a-zionist-because-you-dont-post

(people using (((Zionist))) to mean jew, and/or as a slur, and/or without knowing even the most basic definition, never mind the very different streams of thought regarding it)

https://www.tumblr.com/pauvrecamille/739139228538208256

("Hitler was a humanitarian" + Palestine flag -- which do you think the user actually believes? could they be trying to mask antisemitism as anti zionism?)

https://www.tumblr.com/rock-reblogs/739264338509053952/no-bc-you-are-so-right-for-this

(people taking a frat-boy-esqe stupid/dangerous act of digging a tunnel under a building and turning it into... that)

https://www.tumblr.com/mariacallous/738956988704292864

(a Palestinian man trying to pave the way for peace getting called a 'slimy collaborator' and a 'zionist' (derogatory), + not in this post, but there's also John Aziz, another Gazan advocating for a peaceful resolution, who got a shitton of death threats for saying hamas' mass rape is bad)

https://www.tumblr.com/noparlpf/738692836513431555/anti-zionism-is-not-antisemitism-and-im-gonna-say

(anti zionism and antisemitism are currently incredibly intertwined)

thank you for seeing that there's something wrong and pointing it out - a lot of people don't care enough to do that.

That is. All deeply horrifying. Pointing out misinformation is what I do, though, albeit usually about history.

And while I shouldn't have to say this in a post that's explicitly about antisemitism and the co-opting of concern for Palestine to promote it:

I do not support the Israeli government's current actions in Palestine. I think they are appalling. I think they're akin to responding to a murderer using a child as a shield by shooting the child point-blank, and that's unacceptable. This must stop. Palestinian people are being killed indiscriminately and the international community must stand up and say "no." The only thing with the word "Zion" in it that I understand well enough to have an opinion on it is Cotton Mather's "Ornaments of the Daughters of Zion" (1692, unrelated to the Levant or Judaism), but I know that killing innocents on this scale is wrong. I also think my own country, the US, should not be supplying Israel with weapons.

Clear? Hopefully so.

I'm not sure I'd agree with every view expressed by every person linked in this post, buyt that's no excuse for some of the treatment they're getting. Most of what I've seen in my orbit has been people expressing support for the Houthis- perhaps without realizing (gods, I hope so) that the Houthis are a violently antisemitic terrorist group with the slogan "a curse upon the Jews," and are currently attacking ships unrelated to Israel. I feel like some bigoted people are taking advantage of the compassion and outrage of others to lead them down really horrible ideological paths. There are some online activist types who are led more by Vibes than research, and that's a problem when a lot of misinformation seems to confirm what they're already feeling.

The Palestinian activist whose words you linked used a phrase that stands out to me: "resistance porn." That seems an apt term for people who want to assign Good Guys and Bad Guys in this conflict wholesale, rather than recognizing it as two pretty horrible leading groups- the Israeli government and Hamas -catching innocent civilians on both sides in the crossfire. This is not a YA dystopia novel. You cannot just hate every single person on or associated with one side here, or laud every single person on the other side as a bold freedom fighter.

It's just. Like. How the hell does this go so awry from the very noble, correct, and necessary goal of Stopping The Slaughter Of Innocent People? How do the monsters using people's compassion to advance hateful agendas sleep at night?

I don't know. I'm just reminded of the folks who care more about The RevolutionTM than making actual positive change right now, but with bonus antisemitism.