#(other than getting rid of Otto who is the worst) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abandonedcyberpunkspidermech · 3 years

Text

Character Bio: Otto Octavius (Doctor Octopus)

Name: Otto Octavius

Villain Alias: Doctor Octopus

Bio:

Every superhero has a nemesis, and for SP//dr, that’s Dr. Otto Octavius, otherwise known as Doctor Octopus, but the man wasn’t always the monstrous villain New York City knows and fears.

Otto Octavius was born on July 10th, 3103, in Schenectady, New York, to factory worker Torbert Octavius and doting (s)mother Mary Lavinia Octavius. Young Otto was not the most liked child in school, facing bullying for his portliness, bashfulness, and intelligence. On this, his parents quarreled. Torbert, the abusive brawler, believed he should fight back, while Mary shielded him from the drunken tirades and wanted him to use his mind to solve problems. Due to Torbert’s abuse, Otto swore never to end up like his father. This came in the form of burying himself in his schoolwork with his mother’s emotional support, which paid off with his admittance to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, where he graduated with a Ph. D in Robotics, but not before his father’s death. After graduation, Dr. Octavius began work on what would be his magnum opus: A set of four robotic tentacles, controlled by the human brain through a specialized neural interface. However, this wouldn’t be easy. Robotics, or, more accurately, prosthetics, faced the issue of the human brain’s not being capable of handling more than four limbs. This normally results in brain damage at best and death at worst. If Dr. Octavius could succeed in overcoming this, he would revolutionize the field of robotics. And, for a time, it looked like he would. Even with a nonexistent social life he insists is unneeded, the loss of fiancee Mary Anders to his mother’s rejection, and his mother’s death from a heart attack due to his arguing with her over her dating another man while rejecting his fiancee, he pushed onwards, working to complete his work. Except for one crippling factor.

Enter the Parker family. With Drs. Ben and May Parker as heads and Richard Parker as pilot, the SP//dr project waltzed into the government’s eye. Quickly, the government began funding the project, but such funding came at a cost. Another program would need to be shut down. Just like that, Otto’s robotic arms lost their funding. Try as he did, he failed to find any other source of the funding he needed. And so, with emotions heavy from this and other incidents, he roared at the Parkers for ruining his life’s work and swore vengeance. And then, his arms spoke to him. Filled his mind with ideas. Wonderful, awful ideas. If this project was a threat to him, to them, it needed to go, and what better way to make it go than by eliminating the one and only pilot. And so, Otto struck the SP//dr lab in his first act of villainy. Serendipitously, this proved an excellent opportunity to demonstrate SP//dr’s capabilities. That fateful battle, ending atop Oscorp Tower with a Pulitzer Prize-winning shot, marked the beginning of a long and fateful rivalry between them, with Richard taking on the hero moniker of “SP//dr” and Otto having his old nickname, “Doctor Octopus”, in the Daily Bugle’s headlines. For ten-odd years, Otto and Richard sparred across New York City, and time after time, Richard won. Until he didn’t. In early 3142, Otto won. With a well-placed explosive, he blew up SP//dr with Richard inside. Their rivalry was over at last. Except for one small problem. He had a daughter he could never reach, one who would take his place as SP//dr. But for someone like Doctor Octopus, even with nearly a decade of injuries, making a little girl run away from him screaming and crying couldn’t be easier.

Abilities:

Robotic Tentacles: Doctor Octopus fights using four robotic, neurally controlled tentacles. A specialized neural implant allows Otto to control and feel through them as though they were his own limbs, but this comes with the consequence of neural degradation. Each limb has multiple degrees of freedom, allowing them enormous dexterity. They also have artificial intelligence and a limited degree of autonomy.

Length: These tentacles can be as short as 2 meters or as long as 8 meters each.

Striking Power: Each tentacle can move at a maximum speed of 60 meters per second and strike with ten kilonewtons of force without breaking.

Strength: Even with a need to brace himself using two of his arms, Otto’s tentacles provide him a great deal of strength, with each arm being capable of lifting 15000 kilograms.

Grip Strength: The pincers on the ends of the tentacles have a gripping strength of 3 megapascals.

Intelligence: Otto Octavius is an MIT graduate who majored in robotics. Thus, the man is immensely skilled with robotics, technology, science, and engineering.

Enhancements: Over the years, to counteract his injuries from years of combat, Doctor Octopus enhanced his body to keep pace with the mech (and pilot) he considers an enemy. These include accelerated healing (although nothing like Wolverine or Deadpool), enhanced strength (nowhere near Jessica Jones, never mind Captain America), heightened durability (but nothing close to Luke Cage’s), and limited cybernetics.

Weaknesses:

Previous Injuries: Doctor Octopus’s career as a villain has meant ten years of fighting a lineup of heroes ranging from street level heroes like Jessica Jones, Daredevil, and the Punisher to Avengers such as Captain America and Iron Man, and featuring SP//dr, a cutting-edge combat mech. This translates to years of beatdowns and injuries the old doctor still feels.

Brain Damage: While Doc Ock believes his arms work perfectly, eliminating the issues associated with adding extra limbs, they do not. The arms overwork his brain with every use, warping him into the villain he is today, and will eventually kill him.

Reliance on Arms: The only reason Otto can be a villain is through his arms, as he otherwise lacks the physical ability and fighting skill to fight heroes.

Power Grid:

Intelligence: 5

Strength: 2 (5 with limbs)

Speed: 2 (3 with limbs)

Durability: 1

Energy Projection: 1

Fighting Skills: 4

Appearance/Intro Snippet:

Peni’s spider-sense was pounding at her skull, harder than it ever has.

“So, this is the new SP//dr”, came a voice, male and thick with a German accent.

The voice brought up memories from within them, but Peni couldn’t place them. And then, she could. From the spider and the mech she remembered arguing with him over projects, she remembered fighting with him for nearly a decade, she remembered how he killed…

She turned to face him, stepping back for a better look.

He was easy to see on the roof he was standing on. His eyes were obscured by a set of goggles, and his head was clean-shaven outside a shaggy mop of brown. Everything from the neck down was covered in a dandelion yellow bodysuit with neon blue accents, thick with metal armor over most of the body, but in a few spots thin enough to show the faint lines of his muscles. But more prominent were the arms. Four of them, black as night with neon blue lines like glowing veins, extended from his back like snakes, ending in four-fingered claws.

Oh God… it’s HIM

Her breath hung in her throat, the mech staggering back with uneasy steps. This was Dr. Otto Octavius, the man who killed her father, and here he was, ready to do the same to her.

“Getting rid of you will be quite easy”

The corners of his mouth perked upwards in a smirk. Two of his tentacles struck the roof, and he vaulted off it. As he fell, two claws charged forward, right at her.

Personality:

Otto Octavius is at once a monster and a tragedy. He’s arrogant, prideful to a fault, obsessive, and doesn’t care who or what he has to hurt to achieve his goals, be they scientific or villainous. But, at the same time, he’s alone. His social life is nonexistent, and the only “minds” he has in his life are other villains, who he rarely interacts with, and the arms that drove him to villainy. One might wonder if his life would turn out differently if he had just one lasting, stable relationship; maybe one good shoulder to cry on could change his fate.

Additional Trivia:

Ideal English VA: Steve Blum

Ideal Japanese Seiyuu: Takehito Koyasu

This Doc Ock is meant to be Peni’s big personal arch nemesis. This is because her father’s dead, SOMEONE had to kill him, and the comics simply IGNORE the pile of plotlines that come from this. WHO killed him, do THEY ever fight Peni, does Peni ever break the no-kill rule against him? I mean, the death of a loved one is a fairly integral part of most Spider-Man origin stories, and with how directly correlated it is to being a hero in Peni’s case, her comics just… ignore it. Nay, nay I say.

I know her last comic set up her world’s Nathaniel Essex as setting up her Sinister Six, but I have issues with how that’s presented, and I like my Doc Ock more as the main antagonist.

My design for Doc Ock is based on a blue-ringed octopus’s coloration.

I hadn’t originally planned to make him so similar to Dio Brando (From JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure), but a few leanings might be intentional.

#otto octavius #doctor octopus #doc ock #marvel #marvel comics #spiderman itsv #spider man into the spider verse #into the spider verse #spider verse #spiderman #spider man #earth-14512 #world building #worldbuilding #cyberpunk #earth 14512

4 notes · View notes

ifeellikeameowster · 4 years

Text

E.V.O.L Chapter 2 - On No!

Chapter Summary: Logan is finally done with his workday and can now retire to his living quarter upstairs. He starts reviewing his notes for the day only to find a few inconsistencies and a startling conclusion...

Warnings: Beginnings of Yandere like behavior, mentions of stalking, emotional breakdown, breaking of objects.

Pairings: One-sided analogical.

Word Count: 4k+

Chapter followed by Author’s Note then Tag List under the read more:

One track mind, one track heart.

If I fail, I'll fall apart.

Maybe it is all a test.

'Cause I feel like I'm the worst,

So I always act like I'm the best.

Logan Sumner, self proclaimed magical child prodigy and warlock extraordinaire, always had three cups of coffee throughout his typical work day. One cup before breakfast, one in the middle of lunch, and finally one after his dinner. Dr Sumner was well known in the magical community as a stickler for his routine and the outbursts that were sure to follow if anything trivial ever dared to interrupt said routine. Though the particular interruptions that had occurred earlier that day hadn’t bothered him nearly as much as they should have. Almost as if-

He tightened his lips and jerkily shook his head to rid himself of that train of thought before it could even leave the station. Instead, he steered ever sturdily and steadily forward and into his quaint dining room table’s only occupying chair. It was time for dinner, after all. He whistled out into the air of the sparsely decorated apartment atop his shop for his two wonderful and trustworthy Familiars.

Moriariy, punctual as per usual, was the first to join him. Flying in from the direction of his bedroom and landing at the other end of the table, where a small plate of little seeds and several lush fruits awaited him. His other Familiar, however, followed along at his typical slower pace. Slinking in from the direction of the stairwell and stopping beside him at the foot of the table, where a larger plate of tenderly cooked meats awaited him.

“Did you have a good run, Sheppard?” Logan asks the Valravn as he runs a gentle hand along the canine’s back.

Sheppard, who was slightly more wild in nature than the Yatagarasu, would occasionally leave the shop for the later half of their work day in order to have a refreshing romp in the nearest forest- the one just outside of Painic Park. Logan never once worried over his return, for his Familiars had never failed him before. Which is one of the many reasons he got along better with them than with his other, more humanoid peers.

The handsome pitch black wolf with scattered feathers along his form, bird’s talons as front legs, and a sharp beak perched at the end of his snout gave a tired out, low swooping nod at the query. His warlock gave him a quick pat on the head for his reply and turned away to focus on his own meal.

It was a hearty and well balanced dinner of steak and salad, yet Logan could not help but feel as though he was craving something else entirely different. Perhaps it was the usual pull towards his work he so often felt? Nodding along to the notion, he picked up his cutlery in order to dig in. One cannot think well on an empty stomach, as the saying goes. Once he began eating, his polite and surprisingly patient Familiars began to eat their own meals as well.

After dinner he immediately washes the small amount of dishes used during the day. It was best not to let them pile up too much, as he was a man that loathed disorder and messiness.

Moriarty swooped in to help place the assorted plates and glasses back on the shelves while Sheppard strode his way over to the living room to lay between Logan’s grey loveseat and the small brick fireplace. Knowing full well that that seat was where Logan would be spending the next couple of hours as he casually went over the day’s work.

Moriarty, on the other hand, would spend the time flitting between nesting on the cushion beside him, perching on the back of the loveseat, and resting himself upon Logan’s shoulder. His movements were easily predictable for Logan, who hardly ever got startled by the bird. Well, with the exception of…

The warlock pinched the bridge of his nose as he made his own way into the living room while holding his last cup of coffee of the day, sending Moriarty a look that somehow managed to be questioning, exasperated, and fond all rolled into one as he passed by him.

Why had the bird practically launched himself towards their newest client? Normally, if his Familiars invaded a strangers personal space so abruptly upon first meeting them then that meant that they saw them as a threat and were acting fast to protect their warlock. But that had apparently not been the case at all! Moriarity had....had proceeded to cuddle the darkly dressed man in an overly affectionate and quite frankly rude manner. His Familiars, as he had mentioned to the fellow, usually did not like anyone other than Logan. Only finding exception in long time acquaintances that he held a particular camaraderie with. Especially Moriarty because he was Logan’s first and therefore most bonded. The client in question, however...Had seemed to not mind at all...And had just happily soaked up the bird’s affection towards him. He had taken it all in with an alarmingly charming smile and softened voice that almost made his knees-

He falls into the loveseat, gripping the edge of the cushions with one hand and trying not to spill his fresh coffee with the other as he sits down. Anchoring his thoughts before he lets them set sail into some illusionary sunset. He needed to forget about that odd incident. He needed to start thinking straight again. He needed to get some more work done.

Don't do love, don't do friends.

I'm only after success.

Don't need a relationship.

I'll never soften my grip.

With a resolved sigh the warlock reached over to the end table beside the loveseat, placed the just barely saved cup atop it’s coaster, scooped up the couple of notebooks that were there, and began looking through his notes on all of his meetings for the day. As he read through them, however, he began to feel unnaturally antsy. He chewed on his bottom lip. He tapped his nails against the cover. He hopped his foot continuously up and down. Sensing his uneasiness, Moriarty lets out a questioning caw soon followed by Sheppard’s concerned woof.

“I’m fine.” He rasps out, “It’s just…” His eyes flicker towards the second notebook, the one now laying right beside his thigh. The one he would read second. Because he always read everything in chronological order and he would never skip around. Not for anything. Because it was very important that he remained well organized and timely in his work. So he would leave that one for later, for only after he had finished this one first. He would leave it there and he would-

Proceed to snatch it up immediately, entirely disregarding the previous notebook, which promptly and tragically fell onto the floor. Poor first notebook. Your fate belongs with the pen now.

“It’s this.” He hisses out as he flips on over to page thirty two. The beginning of his notes on his noon appointment, who had actually arrived an overwhelmingly terrible amount of one and a half hours late. Which had set him further on edge than he already was after dealing with Misses Stockbean around ten o’clock that morning, who had demanded more Ozian Poppy seeds than the original agreed amount for half the usual price. So understandably, he might have been a tad snappy towards the bloke at first but he had tried to soften at least a little bit after seeing how anxious the poor guy really was. But then, oh then, Moriarty had preceded to act entirely too strange for him which set Logan right back on edge again. After he had calmed his Familiar down with promises of extra fruits at dinner that night if he stayed quietly upstairs for the remainder of the appointment, he had finally been able to start to interview him.

Monday, September 23rd. Virgil Spurling. Age 26. Self Employed. Lives with his three adoptive parents, Thomas Proudfoot, Talyn Banes, and Joan Vivas. Only spends time with either the three of them, or his two honorary cousins Remington Sexton and Otto Toby Haggard. No living friends outside of the family. No current romantic or sexual partners. Has dark brown hair with light brown highlights. Has long bangs that fall over his eyes, sometimes almost covering them completely. Has rather stormy hazel blue eyes that almost appear violet depending on the lighting he is in. Has pronounced dark circles under his eyes- which are concerning. Has a lovely onyx teardrop piercing on his left cheek and a pair of matching dahlia piercings besides his lips. Has rounded, soft pink lips with a thinner upper lip and a thicker, more bitable lower lip and-

Wait a minute, just what kind of notes had he been taking the entire time he was conducting this interview?! He skips ahead two pages and he’s still just on the physical description section. His physical descriptions had always been more concise and to the point before now. He didn’t quite understand what had happened this time in order to change that. He skims ahead more to try and pinpoint any change or clue anywhere in all of this absurdity.

Has brushed his bangs aside and placed them beside his ear to allow me to see that he has a tattoo behind his ear, on the side of his neck, comprised of a complicated swirl of black roses and thorns. It looks like it would have been painful to get but compliments the structure of the junction between his neck and shoulder nicely. It makes one wonder if he would appreciate someone’s equally difficult yet proudly designed tattoos of assorted constellations across one’s rib cages-

Okay, just why had he started talking about his own tattoos? These notebooks weren’t for some diary-esque documentation of himself. They were for taking professional notes so that he made sure he remembered the most important details of, and information for, all of his assorted clientele. Skip ahead further!

He is surprisingly smart. He is as quick witted as he is sharp-tongued. Metaphorically, of course. Physically, his actual tongue is baby pink and soft, if the few times it has darted out to lick nervously over his lips and teeth are of any indication. He hates pick up lines. Understandable. I find them pointless as well. He. Him. He too has memorized the entire periodic table of elements and is actually fluent in using their abbreviated symbols to make multiple words. Impressive. Breathtaking-

Well at least he seemed to be finally past the physical description now. Yet those strange sentences kept popping up and intertwining themselves where they had no right to be. Even if that had been rather breathtaking at the time it still...It still didn’t explain...Skip ahead! Skip ahead!

He lost his only friend at much too young of an age. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he must feel. How I would have felt were I in his place. He deserves to be comforted and well looked after. He needs a hug. A nice long, extended hug. Perhaps, seeing as I am the only one here with him as of the moment and thusly the only person currently available to do so I could-

Woah, woah, woah. Slow down there past Logan! One should never initiate physical contact with their client without their express consent. He knew that, of course. He knew that and yet he had written...He had written far too much about himself, is what he had done. Wasn’t he supposed to be finding Virgil a suitable romantic and/or sexual partner? How could he do that if he was too busy writing about himself and what...what he wanted? And wait, he wanted? He...yearned? And just for what, exactly? Skip-

He likes poetry. Specifically gothic poetry. That is one of my many favorites as well. I have a rather extensive collection in my shop that I could share with him-

Oh Merlin.

He prefers Astronomy as well. Rather surprising, actually, given his darker appearance and habit of speaking- I had wrongly pegged him for someone much more superstitious. A nice surprise. A welcome one. He seems hyper fixated on the plethora of bird-associated constellations which is highly endearing. There is a new large telescope being currently housed in the recently opened observatory section of the Morph Museum, which is not that far of a walk from my shop. Perhaps I could take him-

Oh Merryweather.

He likes bath bombs and the hand soap that foams. He likes collecting seashells and storing little hidden trinkets in them. He likes feeling the gentler tides lap across his feet but dislikes ever actually going any further into the water unless someone he trusts is there with him. Meanwhile, I personally haven’t been out metal detecting in a while maybe I could go with-

Oh Mages of Both Old and New!

I know exactly what I want and who I want to be.

I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine.

I'm now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy.

Oh, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh!

Logan tosses the notebook back down onto the couch, a notably much safer place than the floor, and lets out a choked, broken sob. Using his hands to haphazardly tug on his hair, he somehow hopes to numb his ever spiraling thoughts like a brain freeze might do so after drinking a cold beverage too fast but it’s not working. Nothing’s working and-

And there’s a lick on one of his hands. He blinks aside a few tears he hadn’t even realized had fallen in the first place and sees that Sheppard had risen to his height by standing on his hind paws and was now trying to gently get his warlock to stop abusing his own scalp. Meanwhile, Moriarty was darting back and forth across the room, obviously trying to locate the source of Logan’s clear distress. He manages a breathy chuckle at that despite his current haggard condition and decides to wrap his arms gently around Sheppard’s feathered scuff instead.

“Really,” he praises, “What would I do without you two?”

Sheppard huffs back at him, which roughly translated to Nothing, obviously. And causes Logan to break out into a more genuine laugh this time before sinking to his knees and bringing the pup softly down with him. He evens his breathing out as Shep licks consolingly at his hands and arms. “What am I going to do, boy?” he mumbles as he uses his dress shirt’s pocket handkerchief to dab at the stray tears with one arm as he still clings to the wolf with his other. “This can’t be happening, right? It just can’t.” He gets no response at that, however, probably since the poor canine can’t entirely grasp the emotional severity of the situation.

Deciding to just toss the handkerchief into the nearest bin instead of sending it through the wash as per usual whenever he dirtied it, he finally lets go of Sheppard, stands back up, and brushes off his pants legs. Upon glancing towards the looming form of the notebook where it still lay tauntingly on the couch’s cushions, he guffaws a more strained and panicked laugh as his thought train not only takes off down the tracks but also entirely derails off course.

If you are not very careful,

Your possessions will possess you.

TV taught me how to feel,

Now real life has no appeal.

“What have I always told myself, hm?” He gestures wildy, causing Moriarty to stop his frantic searching in order to look towards him and for Sheppard to perk back up into attention as well. “What have I always told myself even way back in school? Even though other more hormonal mages always disagreed with me, what were the words I always stuck by, huh?” The two Familiars shared a brief confused look between the two of them.

Logan stops to run a hand through his hair in hopes of straightening it up a bit from it’s tousled state. “What words not only got me through school but also allowed me to reach my full potential and achieve the placement of top student?” He allows himself to take a moment to stroke a hand over each of the surfaces of all the awards aligning the top shelf of his smallest bookcase, located on the other side of the loveseat than the end table was. These were the backups of the awards he kept in his shop downstairs, just in case a particularly rowdy customer ever managed to break one. After his fingers left the “Best Little Potion Maker’s” one, he pushed himself away from the area entirely and headed swiftly towards the hallway in front of the staircase.

It has no appeal.

It has no appeal!

His ever attentive Familiars followed worriedly behind him until they stop just before the steps. He flourishes a harsh, pointed finger at the few portraits hanging on the wall there. “What words were going to eventually get me all the way to the top of Heartwish City’s very own magical community? But are now just...Just dead pipe dreams!” His two most trusted creature companions, still ever so confused by his current trail of logic, made hushed little questioning noises.

Ripping the topmost portrait off of the wall, he began to hiss his next words at it as if the object itself had managed to personally offend him. “Focus on your work. Never fall prey to your feelings. You need to be successful in life more than you need to personally engage in any inane romantic or sexual endeavors.” Merlin’s painted facade stared blankly and unchangingly back at him. In utter retaliation at the silence, he tosses it frame and all down the stairs. Upon remembering Logan’s aversion to untidiness, Sheppard slinks slowly down them to go collect the scattered remains.

Don't want cash, don't want card.

Want it fast, want it hard.

Don't need money, don't need fame.

I just want to make a change.

“Lot of good that did me, boys!” He continues to deliriously shout out, “All these years and not even so much of an inkling of said feelings and yet over the course of one idiotically ineffable day I’ve managed to gain what is essentially a childish schoolyard crush!” He managed to breathe out all in one go before slumping tiredly against the side of the stairwell.

In a Eureka! moment Moriarty begins to excitedly flit to and fro while hurriedly chirping at his warlock. Almost too fast for him to be able to sense the meaning of. “Wait, slow down a bit Mori. What are you-” More hard to decipher chirps, “Hold on, move in? What on earth gave you that idea? No, he’s not going to-” More persistent caws this time, “Well, of course we both like him, I’ve literally just now established that already and- And wait just a moment.”

He scoops the bird gently into his palms. “You liked him first, didn’t you?” One short caw confirmed a resounding Yes. for him. “Did you know, then? Could you have possibly sensed that he’s perfect for me? For us?” He stutters out a breathy laugh, “That’s what that whole debacle was about, wasn’t it?” The crow coos soothingly back up at him and gives him a love bite on the bridge of his nose. Logan releases Moriarty back into the air, along with the emotions connected to his previous outburst, and leans back to place his hands firmly on his hips while he stood proudly back up on his own two feet.

“Just look at me, behaving so ridiculously over the top for such a trivial matter. Throwing a temper tantrum even! Just what would my old professors say, if they saw me now?” He shuffles over to the other side of the hallway where a small cabinet is and opens one of the drawers. “After all, I am more than perfectly capable of handling more than one problem at a time, am I not?” There was both a cheerfully agreeable caw and howl at that, which caused him to finally smile happily again. “And besides, it might not even last all that long. Crushes and mere infatutations are usually short lived!” He rifles through the drawer’s contents until he finds another portrait that was dusty and slightly cracked in one of the upper hand corners. Shutting the drawer and striding back over to the stairwell he holds it up to see if it’ll fit in the arrangement. “Yes, this’ll do perfectly.”

I just wanna change.

I just wanna change!

“And well, if it does last longer or just so happens to escalate further, then...” He concludes as he places the portrait on the spot with a short spell to fix the hook he had broken earlier and steps back to admire the new set up, “His parents never specified that I couldn't be the one I chose for his match, now did they?” Morgan Le Fey, now sitting atop the others as if on a throne made up of the mages, gives him a subtly wicked and tilted smile in response.

He mirrors her expression for the briefest of moments before spinning on his heel and heading towards the only window on the top floor of his building. The warlock steps into his bedroom, pushes the curtains aside, and undoes the latches in the center. As he thrusts the two panes wide open, Moriarty joins his side once more.

“Ah, perfectly punctual as always, Moriarty.” he praises as the bird lands on the back of his hand before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to him, “Before any new endeavor one embarks on in their life, they should always research properly first, yes?” After his Familiar nods in agreement he continues onwards, “And I’m sure you want to see him again soon yourself, right?” Upon realizing who his warlock was talking about, the bird fluffs up his feathers in anticipation. “Exactly, so this all makes perfect sense.” He waves away any other possible negative notions with a sweep of his hand and turns swiftly back towards the open window.

The sun was setting now. The doctor briefly recalled a time, as a kid, where he had stayed up long past his bedtime not only to see the sunset but to also test out his newest telescope. Back then, before he had properly entered into his magical schooling, he had been far more into scientific pursuits at the time. Though he still held a liking towards them now that he was older, what really currently consumed him was his work with all things magical and mythical. Though now, after today, a new beast of a subject was rounding the corner to have it’s turn eating away at his soul. Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky enough, he could manage to take a bite out of it first.

“Alright, Moriarity, you know what you must do.” He interrupted the nostalgic scene and swung the arm the Yatagarasu was perched upon out the window and into the open picturesque evening air. His voice took on a booming echo, “Go forth and gather all that we must know, Though never your own cover you must blow.”

All three of his Familiar’s eyes flashed with the royal blue color of Logan’s magic before the third eye disappeared into the feathers of his forehead and his third leg was tucked away into the feathers of his tail. They both breathed a collective sigh of relief at another spell well cast, despite the roller coaster of emotions that they had all been through that day. Moriarty gave him one final nod in reassurance of their plan and took off into the ever changing dusk sky.

The warlock stayed by the window long enough to watch until his Familiar’s form disappeared over the horizon then set about closing and locking it back up. His other Familiar trudged upwards from the stairs, through the small apartment, and into his bedroom. Giving him a huff to announce his presence.

“Oh, you cleaned it up?” he asked the Valravn, who butted his head against his thigh, “Thank you, though I could have gotten it myself later.” A grunt followed that and he chuckled as he scratched behind the canine’s ears, “Yes, yes you're a good boy. Now let’s head to bed, shall we?” Sheppard pulled away from the affection to howl at the window. “Moriarty? He’s...running an errand. He’ll be a while.” To which he received the most pointed look a dog’s face could ever muster. He shivered as he felt the intrinsically implied Can’t hide things from me, we’re bonded. and cleared his throat to correct himself, “He’s watching over our dear new acquaintance, Virgil. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to meet him yourself soon.”

Much more satisfied by that answer, Shep hopped up onto his rightful spot at the foot of the bed. Where he settled down to wait as Logan went through his nightly routine of partially getting ready for the next work day, cleaning himself up, and changing into his pajamas.

Meanwhile, the coffee mug in the living room on the dark wooden end table still sat forgotten and untouched. Where it would no doubt remain throughout the entire night.

I'm gonna live, I'm gonna fly.

I'm gonna fail, I'm gonna die.

I'm gonna live, I'm gonna fly.

I'm gonna fail, gonna die, die, die, die.

A/N: So I’m still a dirty rotten no good procrastinator. But! Hopefully it’ll help make up for the wait just a little bit that I’ll be posting both chapters 2 and 3 in quick secession. Along with a short, one-off Creativitwins fanfic (coming soon) based off of the latest episode (SVS Part 2). Hope you’ll enjoy! ^ . ^ “”” Also, I’ll no longer be going through the original post for reblogs to add to the taglist. So if anyone wants to be added to it please dm or ask me and let me know! ;3

Tag List:

@accidental-sanders

@ren-allen

@noneed4thistbh

@virgil-the-void-kitten

@totalwhovian

@bandgeek82002-love

@allycat31415

@notalwaysthevillian

@cloudchaser7

@iamredxd

@lacrimosathedark

@idon-kno

@darkhumourandfandoms

@phangirlandkilljoy

@nikova-eve

@rebelrewriter

@chaoticpanpastelle

@simreaper98

@adroolingmaw

@corrupt-ink-denials

@all-of-them-sanders

@6-daughter-of-a-witch-6

@angelicakaiba

@blobdad

@bi-sappy

@clara-oswald-333

@friendly-neighborhood-murderer

@randomcrew

@demon-of-sparkles

@transdimentionalapocolypse

@maybe-one-day-i-will-be-okay

@dxlphmax

@aikitty

@comicsimpson

@agatheringofbees

@mediocrity-at-best

@babybunnyquake

@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes

@screechingflapbiscuitpeach

@hunter-shyreen

@randomfactscenteral

@charlineedstea

@bee-a-queen

@thatonepersonwhoshippeople

@virgil-is-baby-boi

@chocococo16

@softboisnek

@forbiddensender

@tinylightthingtrash

@andreaissy

@girl-from-pluto

@loveyousweets

@im-a-space-gay

@kai-the-person

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides e.v.o.l au #e.v.o.l au #my fics #virgil sanders #logan sanders #character talyn #character!talyn #Analogical #one sided analogical #yandere #stalker #familiar moriarty #familiar sheppard #I love logan's familiars sm y'all have no idea #this chapter is the epitemy of that boy that escalated quickly meme #and it's only gonna get crazier from here #rubs hands together evilly

29 notes · View notes

caffeinated-yearning · 4 years

Text

Oh perhaps I got a wee bit carried away. Here’s some follow-up to the one that byte posted a bit ago, following Oliver’s side of things since he’s the Me One. Featuring a little of Byte and a little of the byte-verse Doctor Octavius. Tagging @werewolfpine because it’s a continuation of his fit and features a little of his S/I at the end (and also because I did do a little reformatting since the doc oop)

Word Count: ~2.2 k Warnings: violence, angsty narrative tone, probably difficult to read because it’s very stream of consciousness

- but he swung a metal bar at Byte’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Doc Ock’s tentacles, in constant motion, seemed to slow behind him at this new information. Rippled and writhed with the horror of it. “...Nate?”

Oliver glared at this person that wore the costume of New York’s beloved vigilante; glowered at this person that wore Nathan’s face in the New York night; felt downright malevolent at having guessed this twist a hundred times prior and every time having filed it away as ludicrous because there was simply no way that fate would have woven Oliver into Nathan’s foe. He was furious, because he should have known it even if it had all seemed just a little too poetic for the universe to do. He didn’t want it to be possible, which was exactly why he had discredited each piece of evidence and chosen to believe the thin and frail excuses he’d been handed.

“Listen,” Spider-Byte raised his hands to his chest- pressing them to his heart only leaves an opening, “I can explain. I… I know what you’re thinking.” Writhing, agony-stricken, claws and tentacles that lashed with unspent energy away from him. “Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but… Just-.”

A hideous rattling crunching ripping and tearing as Doc Ock pulled scaffold apart. Bitter and bitter and bitterer still. “Nathan..?” And how dare the vigilante be wearing the face of his best friend and how dare he tell Oliver that he was in the wrong and how dare he be right when Oliver had always had to be the right one before?!

How the HELL DARE HE?

“wAIT! Just-just listen to me!” And Nathan ran at Doc Ock; if Ock had his glasses still, perhaps he would see the desperation in that so-human face. A metal bar swung at Nathan’s head- get him away, get us away, get me away,- and Nathan caught it and and Nathan has had this sort of strength for who knows how long at this point. “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”

Oliver hated that perhaps worst of all; that Nate was Nathan was Spider-Byte, that he wanted to talk, that he called him by that stupid diminutive nick-name that Oliver loved because Ollie was a softer version of himself, a version that he didn’t let himself be, because he’d been taught for so long that softness was weakness. That Oliver was going to be better than most, and so he didn’t have time to be soft. Hated that Nathan had kept being Oliver’s friend despite every effort of Doc Ock to destroy Spider-Byte. He hated every blasted domino in the whole tower of his life that now came crashing down around him, and every little bread-crumb that now made perfect sense.

Oliver swiped at his eyes to clear the salt and water/dropped the metal beam still clasped in Byte’s arms/lashed out to knock Nathan off his feet in the span of three seconds. Turned tail and ran, down the streets, searching for the start of where his internal map made sense and where he could start to make his way back to his dungeon-like domain.

And tomorrow, Byte-who-is-Nathan will still be in class like he has been every other time that someone was causing a problem and the Spider had to step in, and Nathan has known who I am for months, and he still tries to save me.

“I think I’ve made a grave mistake.”

Doctor Octavius looked up after a moment’s pause. “Well, do you care to elaborate?”

“I… I think I’ve lost one of my dwindling few friends.”

“Well, that does sound grave.” Uncle Otto pushed his computer aside, turning to his student and nephew with one part easygoing authority figure and two parts sincerity. “From what little I’ve heard from you, you really don’t have many friends to spare, even at the best of times.”

“No.” He grit his teeth, held his breath, pressed his nails into his palms with the faint hope that they might break the skin and let him focus on something else. They didn’t, of course, because he had too strong an instinct against pain. Seconds that always seemed to pass too quickly while he struggled to say anything; “I just found out… That one of the people I considered a friend… Probably hasn’t thought of me as anything more than an enemy.” He shook his head; that wasn’t quite right. Nathan wasn’t… He wasn’t like that. “Or maybe I just… Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I made an enemy of my friend. I really am insufferable.”

“Have you spoken to this friend about this yet?”

“Not… As such.” He tried to forget that Oliver/Doc Ock/both of them/all of him had reacted so violently when the Spider had taken off its mask and revealed that the enemy of Doc Ock was the closest friend of Oliver, that both halves were the same thing, that in a world of horrible coincidences this was the worst of them all.

“Listen,” Nathan raised his hands to his chest, “I can explain. I…I know what you’re thinking. Or, I guess I don’t, I never do, but…Just–”

Tried to forget that he had tried to blot it out that he had tried to get rid of it that he had tried to make it go away.

Shook like a leaf in a tempest against the emotions that he had been crushing away for years and years that burst forth at the memory- but [Oliver/Doc Ock/he/they/all] swung a metal bar at [Spider-Byte/Nathan/his sworn enemy/his closest friend]’s head- “Ollie! Why are you doing this? Please, talk to me!”-

Otto nodded, eyes closed behind his tinted glasses. “Perhaps you ought to start with that, then.” He stopped, then added; “or rather, perhaps you should give it a little more time to settle before you do that. You don’t seem to have recovered altogether from the shock.”

Oliver gave a subtle tilt of his head. A half-nod that was all he could muster with his voice threatening to crack like glass in his throat and his body barely responding to any input from the central processor/brain. His mouth struck against incoherent shapes of half-words and syllables and desperate prayers to gods he did not believe in, and was entirely silent.

“Pull that chair over and set your backpack down. There’s no reason for you to stay standing this whole time. You don’t look like you’re in any state to leave, in any event.” It was only by a very slim recollection of sensibilities that Oliver remembered not to let his backpack fall from his shoulders with a heavy thud that even textbooks would not explain. To take it off, set it down. To turn to the chair and pull it over and set it up right and sit in it and make sure the desk was clear and set his glasses aside and then to set about the difficult task of crying in front of someone that was his superior, according to the law of school, according to the law of familial structure. Ugly, a little voice that sounded like a spider or a seraph whispered in the dark of his murky mind. How ugly it is, to cry. You are… weak and ugly, to cry. And it was, in part, calculated, like all things are- this to make him cry harder so that everything would be done with as soon as possible. It was, in part, that he didn’t have any more control over the voice that seemed to be him and not-him than he had over the actions of the people of New York, who thought that he was purely evil, who thought the world of his friend who he thought the world of and had tried to harm. “Wh-what if my-- s-sins are a-already too-o much to bear-?” he asked, in as low a voice as he could, despite the tears and the snot that were going to demand his jacket be washed tonight to prevent anyone seeing that and extrapolating anything with respect to the possibility of Oliver the iron-hearted having cried. “What if I- a-am conde-emned before I ever s-speak?”

“Then the worst case scenario is that you’ve lost a friend. And think how many more people there are; you’ll find other friends. They won’t be the same, but sometimes it can’t be helped. Sometimes you just have to accept that it’ll hurt for a long time, and that there was nothing you could do to change what already happened.” Otto put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder, despite the flinch that he felt even in the midst of that much of what was certainly a humiliating experience already. “But then, that’s the worst case scenario. The best case; want to guess what that will be?”

“I want to be-e a miserable herm-mit who lives in a grotto and n-ever sees the sun.”

“Then I’ll just tell you, since you’re being a miserable little hermit right now. The best case scenario is that it was all a misunderstanding-.”

“Due to circumstance-es that I won’t g-o into, that’s not a po-osibility.”

“-Or else it will be worked out, like a couple of adults and friends ought to do. After the dust has settled, and you can talk about it without fits of hysterics.” The weight of Otto’s palm, the heat of it, the fact that Otto didn’t try to move or change the sensation at all, so that Oliver could focus on that, keep his attention on that; pull himself out of the bog by that little lifeline that had been extended. “The best case scenario is that everything goes back to normal, or as close as it can get, and your friendship doesn’t change.”

“You’re going to tell me that the most probable thing is… Something in between.”

“That your friendship is significantly changed, and that you’ll have to both work on fixing it, or else let it fall apart.”

“Mm.” Oliver rolled his head to one side, his whole face salt-stained and puffy with the awful fact of having cried so much in so short a time. “Are you sure I can’t just change my name and live in a cave?”

“You could, but I’d hate to see my nephew go.” Otto lifted his hand, pulled it back toward himself. “So what did happen between you and Nathan?”

Oliver flinched.

“Really, you two sit side-by-side every day and you expect me to not notice when you choose to sit on the opposite side of the classroom?” Doctor Octavius tsk-ed twice. “You ought to realize that I do have eyes by now, even if I happen to wear these glasses often.”

| One text message from Ollie Ollie Oxen Free |

Nathan looked at the phone blankly. A week and a half of this... of avoiding each other in every conceivable way. He had just gotten to his apartment not ten minutes ago. A week and a half of seeing, occasionally, that bubble (Ollie is typing…) and watching it vanish without anything to show for it. A week and a half of Nathan being that bubble (Nathan is typing…) with nothing to show for it, until the time between Oliver’s little attempts at speaking became days apart, and Nathan’s also slowed, and he assumed that was the end of it.

And now there was an entire text message (!) from Oliver.

What the hell did he want?

‘Have you heard of the man who spent his whole life mining through a mountain range to make sure medical care would be accessible for his village? The trip around the mountains to get a doctor from the next town over took too long and as a result his wife died. In his grief, he cut a path through, so that no one else would have to die due to the length of the path that he had had to travel. I can’t remember his name, but I think that was pretty noble of him. How strange it must be, to have death be the motive for such a drastic change in the physical world? He literally moved mountains.’

Nathan read, and re-read, and tried to figure out just what the fuck this was supposed to mean, because he was tired after a long day of classes, and he still had homework, and there was a constant threat that someone, somewhere, would decide that breaking half the city was a fine way to spend a Wednesday afternoon.

But what the fuck was that supposed to mean? Obviously it meant something, because Oliver always hid his stupid feelings under layers of allegory and associative story-telling instead of being open and honest (or perhaps that was him being as open and honest as he knew how, and if that was the case he needed to learn that sometimes saying what you mean is better than metaphors).

‘I hadn’t heard of that.’ Nathan really tried to say something more, but found that no words came. Well. At least this was almost a dialogue.

‘Do you think Doc Ock will show up in the near future? He’s been quiet for a while I think.’

And if Nathan had never heard a warning before he’d still have understood that this was one.

Spider-Byte stepped out of the window, swinging through the city without a clue as to where he had to go, but knowing he had to go somewhere soon.

#spiderbyte #byteverse #Friend Tag: Byte #[[ Human they Say | Oliver Hoshino ]]#no idea how to tag this #caffeinated writing

4 notes · View notes

newstfionline · 6 years

Text

How to Start a War in 5 Easy Steps

By Stephen M. Walt, Foreign Policy, April 2, 2018

Is the United States on the road to war? The number of people who think so seems to be growing, especially after President Donald Trump fired several of the grown-ups who were reportedly tempering his worst instincts and proceeded to elevate hawks such as CIA Director Mike Pompeo and John Bolton, the former U.S. ambassador to the United Nations. Writing in the New York Times Magazine this past Sunday, Robert Worth portrays Defense Secretary James Mattis as the sole voice of reason in Trump’s new “war cabinet” and highlights the risks of conflict with Iran, North Korea, and maybe a few other countries. How nervous should we be, and how might we tell if Trump is really serious about war or not?

The first thing to remember is that leaders don’t start wars that they believe will be long, costly, and might end in their own defeat. Plenty of wars turn out that way, of course, but the leaders who begin them do so because they fool themselves into thinking the war will be quick, cheap, and successful. Before World War I, Germany’s leaders thought the Schlieffen Plan would allow them to defeat France and Russia in a couple of months, and Hitler had similar hopes for the blitzkrieg and organized the entire Nazi war machine on the assumption that the war would be brief. Japan knew it couldn’t win a long war against the United States, and the attack on Pearl Harbor was a desperate gamble that Tokyo hoped would shatter U.S. morale and convince Washington to give it a free hand in East Asia. Saddam Hussein didn’t think anyone would resist the seizure of Kuwait, and George W. Bush and the neocons (as well as Bolton) foolishly believed the Iraq War would be easy, short, and pay for itself.

In a democracy, leaders bent on war also must convince the public that rolling the “iron dice” of war, to quote German Chancellor Theobald von Bethmann-Hollweg in 1914, is necessary and wise. Congress abdicated its constitutional role to declare war a long time ago, which gives presidents a pretty free hand, but no president is likely to order the large-scale use of force (as opposed to drones or small-scale raids) if he believes the public is dead set against it. Instead, he and his team will go to great lengths to persuade the public to go along.

So, if a president and his advisors are looking to start a war, how will they sell it? Here are the five main arguments that hawks typically advance when seeking to justify a war. You might think of them as the Top Five Warning Signs We’re Going to War.

The danger is grave and growing. The basic logic behind preventive war is the assumption that war is coming and that it is better to fight now instead of later. Thus, Germany went to war in 1914 because it believed (incorrectly) that Russian power would soon eclipse its own, and the Bush administration attacked Iraq because it thought Saddam was hellbent on acquiring weapons of mass destruction (WMD) and the situation would be intolerable if he ever managed to do so. Accordingly, anyone seeking to start a war will try to convince the public that the United States is facing multiple adverse trends and that its deteriorating position can be reversed only via military action. The lesson? Watch for rhetoric about “gaps,” “red lines” “points of no return,” or “time is running out,” which imply the United States must act before it is too late.

It is therefore worrisome that the Trump administration insists that North Korea’s improving nuclear and missile capabilities constitute an existential threat that cannot be tolerated and other warmongers conjure up lurid fears of a new “Persian empire” that must be defeated before it takes over the whole region. Both statements imply that America’s security is running out--like sands in an hourglass--making war almost impossible to avoid.

Such dark warnings rest on little more than guesswork about the future, of course, and typically depend on worst-case assumptions about where current trends might lead. If the United States were scuttle the nuclear deal with Iran and Tehran eventually got nuclear weapons, for example, there’s no reason to think deterrence wouldn’t work as effectively as it did with other nuclear powers. Similarly, it is hardly obvious that North Korea’s growing nuclear and missile capabilities will inevitably lead it to become more aggressive--let alone threaten the United States directly. It’s just as likely that it will become more cooperative once it is no longer worried about U.S.-sponsored regime change. I’m not saying that would be the case, mind you, but it is as plausible as believing that acquiring WMD or enhanced missile capabilities would suddenly lead Pyongyang or Tehran to launch a vast imperial rampage. Because the future is always uncertain, fear of adverse circumstances that may never materialize is a poor justification for war and especially for a country that is as powerful, wealthy, and secure as the United States actually is. That is why German Chancellor Otto von Bismarck called preventive war “committing suicide for fear of death.”

Notice further that the logic of preventive war implicitly acknowledges that the United States is still far stronger and more secure than any of these adversaries and need not go to war from a sense of panic. Which brings me to No. 2.

War will be easy and cheap (but only if we act now). As noted above, nobody launches a war if he or she is certain it will be long, costly, or likely to end in defeat. Accordingly, anyone trying to make the case for war has to convince him or herself and the public that it will be easy and that victory will be both inevitable and cheap. In practice, this means persuading people that the costs to the United States will be negligible, the risks of escalation controllable, and the likely outcome easy to foresee.

What does that tell us to look out for? Well, the more that the administration talks about “limited options,” a “bloody nose” strike, the potency of air power, the ability to conduct “precision attacks” with no collateral damage, or other supposedly controllable war scenarios, the more worried you should be. Those are the signs that a government is convincing itself that it has lots of options that will wreak havoc on its foes but pose little danger to the country. And you should be especially concerned when those advocating war seem to be assuming that the enemy will behave exactly as they would like them to, instead of coming up with responses they didn’t anticipate. “The enemy gets a vote” is a familiar cliche but also one that hawks routinely dismiss when making the case for action.

War will solve all (or at least most) of our problems. Advocates for war typically promise that victory will solve lots of problems at once. Saddam thought invading Kuwait was a masterstroke that would eliminate one of his main creditors, increase Iraq’s GNP by billions of dollars overnight, enhance his leverage over Saudi Arabia, dampen domestic discontent, and give him the wherewithal to compete with a potentially more powerful Iran. Similarly, Bush and the neocons thought toppling Saddam would eliminate a potential aggressor, send a message to other would-be proliferators, restore U.S. credibility after 9/11, and began a process of democratization in the Middle East that would eventually mitigate the danger of Islamic terrorism.

Hawks also like to argue the flip side: A failure to act now (or soon) will have dire consequences. Not only will it allow the balance of power to shift against the United States (see #1), but it will also lead others to doubt the country’s resolve and question its credibility. In other words: If the United States uses force, other states will respect it, deterrence will be strengthened, and peace will spread far and wide. If it doesn’t act, by contrast, adversaries will be emboldened, allies enfeebled, and the world will descend into darkness.

The astonishing thing about such claims is how often they get recycled. No matter how many times the United States goes to war or uses force--and it has done a lot of both in recent decades--it’s never enough. The positive effects of vigorous never seem to last more than a few months--at least according to the hawks--and soon they are telling Americans that they have to blow something up again so that others will know they can and will.

The enemy is evil. Or crazy. Maybe both. If you want to lead a country into war, don’t forget to demonize your opponent. Portraying the conflict as a straightforward clash of competing interests isn’t enough, because if that were the case, the problem might be resolved via diplomacy and compromise rather than by military force. Accordingly, hawks go to great lengths to portray opponents as the embodiment of evil and to convince the public that the enemy is morally repugnant and unalterably hostile. After all, if a foreign government does some bad things, and if its hostility to America will never, ever change, then the only long-term solution is to get rid of it. As former Vice President Dick Cheney put it, “We don’t negotiate with evil. We defeat it.”

A second line of argument is the claim that America’s adversaries are irrational, fanatical aggressors that cannot be deterred by its superior military power, huge arsenal of sophisticated nuclear weapons, robust network of allies, and assorted economic tools. Thus, Iran’s leaders are routinely described as religious fanatics who would welcome martyrdom, and North Korea’s three Kims have been routinely depicted as bizarre, crazy, extremely bellicose, and therefore impossible to deter. Never mind that both regimes have repeatedly shown themselves to be obsessed not with martyrdom or ideology but rather with retaining power and staying alive. To make the case for war, it’s more effective to tell the public these folks are dangerously bonkers.

Yet when it suits them, hawks also tend to portray the enemy as smart and sensible, to make using force seem safe. A leader like Kim Jong Un is said to be too irrational to deter, which is why the United States must go after him. But hawks also argue that if America does decide to attack North Korea’s nuclear infrastructure, it will in fact be possible to deter him from retaliating against U.S. allies or against the United States itself. Those who favor attacking Iran use similar arguments: Iran’s leaders are supposedly irrational fanatics who could not be deterred if they ever got nuclear weapons, but they are also smart and sensible enough to sit quietly while the U.S. Air Force conducts a devastating bombing campaign throughout their country. Needless to say, when you see an openly contradictory argument like this, you know you are in the realm of pro-war propaganda rather than serious analysis.

Peace is unpatriotic. The final warning sign is when an administration starts wrapping itself in the flag and suggesting that skepticism about the use of force is a sign of insufficient patriotism. During the Vietnam War, Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon accused anti-war activists of giving aid and comfort to the enemy, and an administration eager to sell a war is bound to portray those opposing it as weak-willed, naive, or insufficiently committed to U.S. security. If Trump is contemplating war and prominent people start to challenge him, you’ll know by keeping a close eye on his Twitter feed.

As I’ve noted before, U.S. politicians’ present aversion to peace is puzzling. I’m a realist and not a pacifist, but a country whose global position is as favorable as the United States has an obvious interest in peace and stability and little interest in taking big risks for small gains. Unfortunately, after 27 years of being the indispensable nation, and 17 years of fighting the war on terror, Americans have become accustomed to presidents trying to solve complex strategic and political problems mostly by blowing stuff up. This approach hasn’t worked very well, but it is still the default response of the foreign-policy establishment. Just remember the outpouring of bipartisan support that Trump received when he fired a few dozen cruise missiles into Syria. It was a one-off gesture that did not affect the war there in the slightest, yet Republicans--and Democrats--hailed it as a sign that Trump was finally taking his presidential responsibilities seriously.

My point is that if this administration decides it wants to start a war, it will do everything it can to intimidate or marginalize skeptics. The most reliable way to do that is to impugn their patriotism, in the hope that everyone will have forgotten how much damage overzealous hawks have done in recent years.

So, if you see the Trump administration deploying any of the arguments I’ve just identified (and to be fair, it already has to some degree)--look out. What makes this tricky, however, is that an administration that didn’t want to go to war might still act as if it were itching for a fight, in the hope of persuading the other side to make concessions. But this is a dangerous gambit, either because the bluff can get called or because you can start believing your own propaganda and talk yourself into war by stages.

If Trump does choose war, where is it most likely to occur? I’d say Iran, for two reasons. First, North Korea already has nuclear weapons, and Iran has none, so the risks of war with the former are infinitely greater. Second, even a purely conventional war on the Korean Peninsula would make South Korea, Japan, China, and others very nervous; by contrast, America’s Middle East clients would be positively giddy if Trump succumbed to their blandishments and attacked Iran on their behalf. If Trump is eager to distract people from his other troubles, or is determined to compensate for those small hands of his, war with Iran makes a lot more sense than a war with North Korea.

Which is not to say that it makes much sense at all. I still think war with either country is unlikely because the United States has little to gain and much to lose by launching another war. And it shouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. But that’s pretty cold comfort because I’ve overestimated the intelligence, prudence, and judgment of U.S. leaders before. Sadly, sometimes very bad ideas get implemented anyway.

Stephen M. Walt is the Robert and Renée Belfer professor of international relations at Harvard University.

#war #starting war #military intervention

2 notes · View notes

racingtoaredlight · 7 years

Text

RTARL’s NBA Previewpalooza: Part One

One of the most hectic and entertaining NBA offseasons in recent memory is finally drawing to a close, and real-live game action is nearly upon us. After ending last season by swiftly dispatching the Cleveland Cavaliers, the Golden State Warriors have cemented themselves as the most ridiculous Final Boss in the history of team sports. Barring an injury that prevents either Kevin Durant or Steph Curry from playing in the postseason, it’s damn near impossible to imagine anyone preventing them from repeating. In the same way that a movie can still be great even if you guess the ending ahead of time, the ups and downs of each of the thirty teams in the NBA are still a ton of fun to follow, even if the eventual champion is basically a foregone conclusion. For me they are, anyway.

Today I’ll be previewing the Eastern Conference, with the teams presented in the order I think they’ll finish, worst-to-first. I’ll roll out my Western Conference predictions and my picks for the end-of-season awards as soon as I can. Let’s rock and roll.

15. Chicago Bulls. Mother of God, this roster is an atrocity. Zach LaVine is the best player the Bulls have on their roster by a country mile, and he’s currently recovering from a torn ACL. He’s not even going to be cleared for contact until sometime in November. In the meantime, their best player is...Nikola Mirotic? I guess? Mirotic is a 6′10″ PF who averaged as many three-point attempts per game as rebounds last season, while shooting under 42% from the field. Woof.

This year is all about landing a high draft pick to add to their young core of LaVine and uh, Denzel Valentine, Kris Dunn and Lauri Markkanen. Damn, GarPax. Nice work.

14. Brooklyn Nets. Oh, jeez. I’ll say this for the Nets: I really liked the move to ship Brook Lopez out of town for D’Angelo Russell. Lopez served no purpose on a team this bad, and there’s always the chance that the next foot injury he suffers is a career-ender. Getting a young guy with Russell’s pedigree for him is a score. In addition, the Nets are doing that thing where a team acts as a dumping ground for other team’s shitty contracts, while picking up draft picks along the way (they got a 2nd rounder from Toronto for taking DeMarre Carroll, for example).

Speaking of draft picks, it’s impossible to talk about the Nets without mentioning the truly heinous trade that deprived them of their ‘14, ‘16, 17, and ‘18 first round picks. I still can’t believe that happened. The light at the end of the tunnel for the Nets isn’t going to be all that bright until after next season, when their rebuild can finally begin in earnest. In the meantime, enjoy D’Angelo and Jeremy Lin!

13. Atlanta Hawks. I learned recently that Dennis Schroder is a huge douche and his teammates really don’t like him at all. A team’s best player being an asshole isn’t a big deal when the player is a legit stud. When it’s Dennis Schroder, that’s less than ideal. The Hawks have some decently fun guys to watch in Schroder, Kent Bazemore, Taurean Prince and incoming rookie John Collins (pride of Wake Forest). I don’t really see it translating to a whole lot of wins, though. This feels like a transitional year for them, and I’m not sure if coach Mike Budenholzer is the kind of guy who’d want to stick around for a full rebuilding project. I can’t for the life of me find any information on his contract, so it won’t be surprising if he bails after this season, and the Hawks sink into full tank-mode.

12. New York Knicks. Well, they got rid of Carmelo. The return wasn’t all that great (that’s putting it kindly), but it’s tough to argue that it was the wrong move. Now, the team can focus on developing Kristaps Porzingis into a superstar, and trying to build around him. The Knicks definitely aren’t going to be a GOOD team, but with Kristaps doing Kristaps things, Michael Beasley doing Michael Beasley things, Willy Hernangomez hustling like a madman, and Tim Hardaway Jr. possibly attempting 10 threes a game, they won’t be a total drag to watch.

11. Indiana Pacers. I love Myles Turner as much as almost anyone, but he’s not enough to carry a winning team by himself quite yet. Victor Oladipo is a fine running mate, and I think he’ll have his best year to date. With Darren Collison and Cory Joseph both on the roster, the Pacers are assured of having a competent, unspectacular general on the floor at all times. I think the Pacers have enough to keep from completely bottoming out, but this still looks like a lottery team.

10. Philadelphia 76ers. There’s not a team in the league with as wide a range of possible outcomes as the Sixers. There are so many “ifs” here. IF Embiid plays 65+ games, and IF Ben Simmons hits the ground running, and IF Markelle Fultz is ready to play, this team could sneak into one of the final playoff spots in the East. On the other hand, IF Embiid has a health setback and another lost year, and IF Ben Simmons is still too raw to count on, and IF Markelle Fultz’s terrible jumper totally undermines his other qualities, the Sixers could find themselves dangerously close to the Nets and Bulls at the bottom of the conference. I think the Sixers will be one of the most fun teams in the league to watch this year, but they won’t coalesce enough to make a legit run at the playoffs until next season.

9. Charlotte Hornets. Truth be told, there really isn’t much of a difference between the Hornets, Pistons, and Magic. The Hornets losing Nic Batum to injury is a bummer, as this is a team that can ill-afford to lose a playmaker. They brought in Dwight Howard, and if the early reports are to be believed, he’s as healthy as he’s been in awhile, and he’s feeling rejuvenated. It remains to be seen how long the honeymoon period will last for him in Charlotte. The Hornets are well-coached and they have several good defenders. Kemba Walker is a legit star and has shown the ability to drag his team to the playoffs in the past. I also really liked their drafting of Malik Monk. Add it all up, and the Hornets aren’t a top-tier franchise, but they’re far from a smoldering trainwreck. I’m not great with compliments.

8. Detroit Pistons. I might be one of the few people remaining on the Andre Drummond bandwagon. I still think he has it in him to be an absolute force defensively, and I hope he makes a leap this season. Bringing in Avery Bradley gives them some more shooting and further fortifies their defense. By surrounding a rim-wrecking big man with shooters, it’s pretty clear Stan Van Gundy is trying to recapture the glory of his Orlando days. If he can get something useful in return for Reggie Jackson, and if Stanley Johnson progresses enough to be a legit rotation player, the Pistons may very well have a stew going.

7. Orlando Magic. I really like a lot of the Magic players individually, but they’ve had issues fitting together in recent seasons. I think things will be different this year. Aaron Gordon is primed to take a step forward and become an All-Star, and Elfrid Payton has the skill to be a very good PG, especially defensively. Evan Fournier and Terrance Ross can both score in bunches from beyond the three-point line. The organization seems to dislike Nic Vucevic, but he’s a good player. He’ll either be productive for the Magic, or they’ll finally find a trade they like and bring in someone who fits what they want to do. 6′ 10″ rookie Jonathan Isaac was one of the picks at the draft that made the analysts ooh and ahh, so I guess that’s a good thing.

6. Toronto Raptors. The Raptors are a pretty good team. They have two All-Star caliber players in Lowry and DeRozan, and Serge Ibaka is a perfectly decent third wheel. With that said, it feels to me like they’ve gone about as far as they can go. Most likely, they’ll chug through the season similar to the way they have the last couple of years, and proceed to bow out early in the playoffs. However, it wouldn’t surprise me if they get off to a slow start and decide to fire Coach Dwane Casey. After that, things could really spiral out of control, and DeRozan or Lowry could end up being traded.

5. Miami Heat. I love Erik Spoelstra, and this roster is tailor-made for a coach to go buckwild trying to cause matchup problems for the opponent. They have an elite rim-protector in Hassan Whiteside, an upper-echelon point guard in Goran Dragic, and a slew of very good role players. There’s size and athleticism up and down the roster. They can go small, they can go big, they can load up with perimeter shooting, they have Peak Dion Waiters, and they brought in Kelly Damn Olynyk. This team as constituted is a blast. The only thing keeping them from legitimate contention is their lack of a go-to superstar. Pat Riley has proven rather adept at securing the services of players like that, but they don’t have any young guys that are obvious trade pieces, and they’re devoid of draft picks for 2018, so odds of an in-season deal are pretty slim.

4. Washington Wizards. I consider myself to be a reasonably WizWoke guy, but much like the Raptors, this feels like a team that’s reached it’s ceiling. The difference between the Wiz and the Raptors is that while Kyle Lowry and Serge Ibaka have caused locker room issues in the past, John Wall and Brad Beal seem to be more measured and mature guys, their own rocky relationship notwithstanding. I don’t see the potential for their locker room to implode the way I do with Toronto. Barring major injuries, this is a team that should coast to home court in the first round of the playoffs. Wall and Beal are a spectacular backcourt, and Otto Porter has improved every year he’s been in the league. Marcin Gortat is steady, but his style of play is rapidly becoming a liability in today’s NBA. They’re an athletic rim-protector away from taking another step forward, and unfortunately those aren’t all that easy to acquire. Also, Markieff Morris is a total piece of shit.

3. Cleveland Cavaliers. Just to be perfectly clear, I’m not saying the Cavs are the third best team in the East. I’m saying they’ll finish with the third-best regular season record. Isaiah Thomas, Derrick Rose, and Dwyane Wade are going to miss a ton of games. LeBron’s only objective is winning a title, and if he thinks resting during the season will improve his chances, he’s gonna sit some, as well. They aren’t going to care about gunning for a #1 seed, because they know they can beat anyone in the East without it. There will probably be a little bit of a feeling out process at the beginning of the year, but this is a veteran-laden roster and it should go smoothly. There’s a faint whiff of danger here, with Isaiah Thomas’ uncertain health, and the cloud of LeBron possibly bolting after the season hanging over everything. I don’t THINK things will take a nasty turn for them, but if they did it would be delightful from an entertainment perspective.

2. Milwaukee Bucks. I am ALL IN on the Bucks. The term “position-less basketball” has become en vogue recently, and the Bucks are perfectly suited for it. They are flush with young, athletic, lengthy defenders. Half the battle in today’s NBA is trying to force defenders to switch assignments until you end up with a matchup you can take advantage of. Well, the Bucks have a boatload of guys who can reasonably guard every position on the floor. They’re going to be a nightmare to play against.

In addition to their defensive capabilities, they have motherfuckin’ Giannis Antetokounmpo. He’s a superhuman. I think this is the year he vaults into superduperstardom, and he’s a legit MVP candidate. The Bucks figure to get Jabari Parker back sometime around the All-Star break, and if he can pick up where he left off, it’ll give them a massive boost offensively. Jabari was averaging over 20 PPG and shooting over 36% from three before he went down.

I think the Bucks will keep the pedal to the metal all season long as they announce their presence as a legit team, and as a result the wins will pile up. They are young and hungry, and will enjoy the hell out of wrecking people. The main thing keeping me from vaulting them all the way to the top spot, and giving them serious consideration to make the Finals, is the fact that they’re coached by Jason Kidd. I have no idea if he’s a good coach or not. He does completely inexplicable things all the time, but then he’ll counteract that by pushing all of the right buttons for a few games in a row. Much like the rest of the Bucks, there’s room for him to take the next step forward and become one of the league’s best.

1. Boston Celtics. I swear this isn’t me being a homer. The Celtics are loaded and they have a very good coach. It’ll likely take them a bit to figure out how to play together, but once they get the hang of things, they’re gonna be really good. Basically everyone has a Celtics-Cavaliers Eastern Conference Finals set in stone at this point. But, whereas the Cavs have the kind of well-earned confidence that allows them to not give a rat’s ass about the regular season and homecourt advantage, the Celtics aren’t there yet. I think getting homecourt for a potential playoff showdown with the Cavs is really important to them, and as a result they won’t let up during the season. Even if Kyrie Irving does miss games, as he’s wont to do, the roster is deep enough that they should still be able to hang with most teams even without him. When you have a team with this amount of talent trying to win as many games as possible, playing in a weak conference, they’re gonna put up a enough Ws to lock up a #1 seed.

Whew! That’s it for the East, be sure to come back next time for my thoroughly uninformed opinions on the West!

#NBA Preview #Basketball #Sports #Kelly Olynyk

1 note · View note

adventuringjessie · 7 years

Text

(( Thought it would be a good quick drabble about how Jessie to came to know there are other alternative selves of her out there. but oops it ended up so long. I’m sorry mobile users! there’s some...mistakes;; ))

Crown Mesa look a bit more greenier than Jessie remembered. There were familiar people walking among the town, and she can see new faces among them. The place gotten a slightly better since Jessie gave Harper a second chance to help her own people to make up happened and that was a year ago.

Speaking of that, she glances at the wall where the monitor was once, but now it was a wall carried various of large posters. That place did became a stage of sorts. It was nice to know they’ve rid of that, otherwise...

“So, what did Harper says in her letter?” The voice snaps Jessie’s reverie and Jessie turn around with a smile.

The tall warrior-- Petra raise a brow with a obvious but less visible pout that only Jessie can see, and she smiles big. She really want to kiss these away. But not in the public. They both agreed on it. Still, not yet.

“Harper says that she need us to see something. She said it is something that is related to Portal Network.” Jessie said, as the two begun to walk to Harper’s lab, “I’m having a feeling that something’s not right or wrong.”

“Last time you said that, you lick a golem.”

“Petra!”

Jessie wide her eyes at the tall warrior who laughs in return. Gods Petra is never going to let her down.

The two walked into the lab and welcomed by strange but a bit familiar machines littering around. The two look around, and look at each other before nodding.

The two, without speaking, decide to look around. Jessie see all of the strange machines that seem to look like they’re either projects or unfinished ones. Jessie mused that despite Harper said she was never going to make strange ones like PAMA. It seem old habits are hard to rid of.

“Harper!” Jessie decide to shout, as she venture a little far in the lab, “Harper, we’re here!”

The sound of something falls and a loud yelp that caused Petra to ran to Jessie.

“What was that?” Petra said, as she’s near Jessie and look at something that was in front of them.

“That,” Jessie said as something started to shake, “Would be...” A figure came out of that something, “Harper!” The familiar face of a old woman appears before them.

Well, except she was wearing goggles.

“You guys are here!” Harper exclaims, pulling off her goggles and the two women can see she had more wrinkles than the last time they saw her. But other than that, her outfit never changed at all.

“Yeah, we are.” Petra said, folding her arms and Jessie nod at Harper to explain ahead.

“Okay, since you guys are here... Come with me then!” Harper get off the something she seem to have fallen from, and gestures them to a corner of her lab. Unlike the rest of the room, the corner was more cleaner and Jessie could see a bed and various personal items. That must be Harper’s little room.

Then she saw a block-like item covered in blanket on Harper’s desk. Something about that makes Jessie’s stomach churns at the sight. Harper had walked to that desk and turned to face the two women.

“Here we are! This,” Harper turned to grab the blanket and pulled it off, “Is what I need to show you.”

Petra look so ready the moment she saw it and Jessie flinched at the item, but she reached to held Petra’s arm at the same time. She squeezes Petra’s arm, that speaks ‘Stop.’. Petra didn’t charge from there, and Jessie look at Harper with eyes widen.

“What is...The Command Block doing here?”

Except the Command Block seem to be made of neither, and Petra look so ready to smash that thing but Jessie’s hand on her arm stopped her from that. Jessie look straight at Harper.

“Harper.” She said, her voice suddenly went stern, “What is it doing here?”

“It’s not a Command Block!” Harper widen her eyes at their actions, “It’s a Portal Block.”

“A Portal Block?” The two said in unison, one was staring at that block warily and the other looking at Harper. Harper look so fidget, until Jessie finally speaks up.

“Harper.” Jessie look at the old Builder with so much restrain the rage in her tone, “Explain what a Portal Block do.”

Harper look at these two and went to drone on what it was, not wanted to hurt her new friends.

“It connected to the Portal Network, the Old Builders had no intention with it as far as I remember. I merely brought it here because Otto found it while cleaning up the last remains of what other idiots had done. This little guy? It’s more than just a flint and steel, it let you meet…uh, we could say, alternative selves of you, me and others. In other word, alternative universes.”

The two look at each other and Jessie release Petra’s arm. Petra huffs and said, “That’s a myth. Uh, the whole alternative universe thing? A myth.”

“Yeah, but again, we did see strange things in our life in the past year.”

“That’s true.”

“Yeah, well, you know the Portal Network had all of the worlds you guys have been to, right?” The two nod, “Well, there’s actually more than these worlds. They’re repetitive counterparts of the worlds we are in.”

“Repetitive what?” Petra frowns.

“You remember how the Redstone Heart can open a door to Competitors’ village, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, it’s the same with Portal Block, except it acted like your enchanted flint and steel.”

“You mentioned that.” Jessie pointed out and Petra nod. The two look at Harper and she look at these two as if she was sweaty all of suddenly.

“The Portal Block acted like a way to other worlds. But not our worlds you guys have been to, but the world counterpart our own world.”

“That doesn’t make sense, it sound paradox or something.” Petra scoffs and Harper roll her eyes.

“That’s because it is alternative. Let’s use my world here. You notice how the world is a little greenier and there’s so many people now, right?”

The two nod, they had see how much changes the Crown Mesa had in a year.

“Well, when I used this Portal Block.” Harper went to the block, she look at these two and touches it. The block suddenly went glow, and a small portal opens above it.

Petra and Jessie gasps at that sight. Petra went to grab Jessie’s arm this time. She knew enough what is going in that portal.

“This is what happen if we let PAMA ran.”

The portal shows Crown Mesa, but it was... so different. It was much redder and scarier and Jessie is starting to shake at the sight of that monitor. That sound of creepy monotone that almost lost her friends...

That was when Petra shout at Harper.

“Cut it off, Harper!” Harper’s eyes widen when she saw Jessie shaking at that sight. The woman move her hands away quickly and the block suddenly went off.

Jessie inhales and close her eyes. Petra went to rub her back in circles as she could feel the shakiness fading slowly. She gave the glare at Harper who now look so ashamed for starting it.

When Jessie exhales, she open her eyes and look at Harper. Instead of being mad, she braves herself to ask.

“So, it’s...a alternative world?”

“Yes.”

“Does Crown Mesa had more than one world?”

“Jessie--” Petra frowns. She should be mad about that! Harper shows the worst nightmare if Jessie had lost!

Harper breathes before she nod at them. Petra was ready to grab Harper when she started to reach for that block, but Jessie held her back.

Petra look at her with ‘what the heck!?’ look and Jessie shake her head and look at her with ‘please just wait’ look.

Harper touches the block once more, and the portal opens, but instead of the red world, the Crown Mesa was...

“It look the same!” Petra said, bewilderment in her tone at that portal as the tenses on her shoulders was off.

“No...Look.” Jessie points and there’s another Harper in that world. But instead of wrinkles in her face, she look...happier and on her arms was...

“That’s PAMA?”

“Yes, this is the world if... I never used Redstone Heart.” Harper mumbles, watching the other self of her laughing at what PAMA said in her arms. The two seems so happy and the two women look at Harper. Who had a longing look in her eyes. Jessie decide to cut in.

“So how is it possible? The changing worlds?”

“You...” Harper sighs and move her hand away from the block, the portal of seeing other Harper and tiny PAMA disappeared, “Can actually change different worlds as if you keep poking this block. Unlike Command Block, it...only let you see these worlds. You can walk into it and carry that block with you, but so far that’s the only methods I’m aware of.”

“It sound like you did it before.”

“That’s true, and now the block belongs to you.”

#mcsm #jessie adventures #jessie stories #The Portal Block / Stories #((#have i mentioned theres a bit of jesstra if you squint aksdjaskfjas #))

9 notes · View notes