#And since it's important to not disregard the voices of the groups being represented I feel like it's important to mention their arguments

[harmoniouseclipse]

This is so disheartening to see. It feels so weird to add a whole new cast of characters to Genshin and have only one of them be dark skinned. Granted, Iansan will be the darkest character in Genshin when she releases, but I did see a particular issue while talking with my friend; here is the chart I made going in depth about why her skin still feels so off to me (as an artist).

I feel like they are trying (somewhat) to push more out of their comfort zones, which I applaud them for. However, when you release a trailer filled with a whole new cast and only one of them actually has dark skin that isn't pale to medium tan, it creates a bad look imo.

And regarding their other games, it's so odd to make Arlan's whole thing be named with things referring to slavery. I think the devs maybe thought that they were giving empowering representation since most of them have to do with breaking free from oppression, but it really comes off as weird and disjointed. And I also feel like they could have added much better representation regarding Penacony. I don't play HSR so I was very surprised when a friend of mine told me that Boothill was based off of Native Americans, because as an American myself he is very much reminiscent of stereotypical southern country people. Of course I'm glad they didn't go the alternative route by making him a stereotypical Native American, since I have multiple friends who are and they are all very different people, none of them acting like how Hollywood portrays that culture though. And I also have never played HI3 but again, when my friend told me about one of the character's whole thing being that she hates her dark skin and bleaches it I was again shocked. But again, since I don't play these games and I know that HI3 was still one of their earlier games I wonder if it was just the early stages of development and poor aging kind of like old movies. Not as a way to excuse it, but as a way to understand why they went with that choice and from what I have seen they haven't copied that character plot(?) in any of their other games, thankfully.

E made an incredible video regarding the topic of Genshin's colorism so I'll link it here for you to watch since she does a much better job of explaining it than me lmao

I'm gonna end it here but I do have some extra points in the tags I wanna bring up briefly, and I might continue this in another reblog if I have time but for now these are the main thoughts I had ✌🏻

So, I hopped on here and saw nobody talking about the atrocity that is what genshin is doing to Natlan and since it was suggested we move the boycott to where others may not be able to hear Twitter specifically I decided to post something which I've normally never done.

Genshin has taken inspiration for Natlan from a bunch of different ethnic groups around the world, including but not limited to the Aztec, the Mayan, the Incan, the Māori, Native Americans, Native Hawaiians, and the West African.

The reason this is so dangerous is because it is literally covering up and whitewashing cultures. Hoyoverse promotes itself as a "diverse" and "worldwide" game, but if you can't even represent the people you're taking from properly, then what's the point? When it comes down to it, Hoyo can make beautiful representations based on cultures. One that I find consistently mentioned is Yunjin, who has a popular Chinese opera singer singing for an idle animation.

This extends outside of genshin, too, though. One point that particularly enrages me is the point of one Carole Pepper. Now, I haven't played much HI3, but from what I've heard, this poor woman hates her skin so much that she bleaches it. And to add insult to injury when I showed two side by side pictures of Carole to a friend of mine, said friend pointed out that she dressed more feminine the whiter she got.

Arlan's skill names have also been a cause of concern for a while now. With HSR releasing another person of color, I also beg you to consider the following: "Why did no playable characters on Penacony have darker skin? It was heavily based on America's Jazz Age, so wouldn't they include the people who created said music?" Another point is that of both Aventurine and Boothill. Both of these men were influenced by minorities and heavily whitewashed. Aventurine was based on the rromani peoples, and Boothill was based on Native Americans. Neither has an once of melanin.

I'll be posting more about this issue later but for now I'll leave it at that. I'll be reposting some art I've seen that incorporates more of these cultures and studying up more on what has been portrayed through this new trailer.

[penguinsfly]

I unfortunately saw something I didn't want to see and that was my last straw. I'm fucking doing this.

Let's establish this first. Alastor is stated in the show to be asexual that is not up to discussion. He is also very heavily implied in the same conversation to be aromatic. 'An Ace in the hole' being used in context of him being with Charlie is also implying his aromanticism.

VIDEO

If that's not enough then here is Viv speaking about his romantic orientation. It's pretty clear despite the fact that afterwards she said it's okay to headcanon whatever (it's not but I will get o that later) that he is written purely as an aro ace character.

On top of that going by Alastor's interaction with Angel from the pilot and the first episode it is clear that he is sex repulsed. Not only that but on the fandom website he is stated to be touch averse with two sources which you can check out on the website.

Hazbin hotel wiki, Alastor page

Now we established that Alastor is canonically Asexual, Aromantic, Sex Repulsed and Touch Averse

As I also am all of the above I'll try to explain everything to the best of my ability as simply as I can.

Aromanticism and Asexuality.

I'm probably targeting the audience that knows those terms but regardless I will explain it anyway.

Aromantic - people that experience little to no romantic attraction towards any gender

Asexual - people that experience little to no sexual attraction towards any gender.

Little to no

Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums in which people can feel certain attractions towards people but those attractions are less occurring or are defined by personal connection.

Diagram from AVEN website

However some people are at the end of the spectrum, they never felt attraction and that's valid. Alastor was stated to be aroace he wasn't written as demi or as gray he was written as aroace as in the end of the spectrum. His repulsion and not giving shit about romance or sex speaks for itself.

Representation

I do understand that everyone wants to be represented but it's so important to understand that aroace people are one of the most underrepresented queer groups in the media.

And I'm not here to scream about how I want my fav character to be just like me I don't care for it I'm way too confident in my orientation to rely on that however I'm tired of explaining to people what asexuality and aromanticism is just to receive 'are you sure' or 'you'll change your mind' or 'its not real' or the community favourite 'you'll find the right person' no I won't I'm not looking thank you very much (I just smile and nod to be polite and I'm sick of it).

'Harmless' buts like: 'He might be on the spectrum', 'AroAce people can still feel attraction' hurt the final outcome for all the people on the spectrum not only strictly aroaces because it allows people to write one shots with 'Demi Alastor' that falls in love in 2000 words because he is 'demi' (spoiler alert: they don't understand what that label means). It's just a cover, an opening, sneaky way to disregard his orientation, feel good about themselves and move on. Newsflash there is no moving on for aroace people it's our life.

Shipping

Shipping is just harmless fun right? Usually yes but not in this case. In the same way its not okay to ship gay characters with genders they are not attracted to.

It's erasure and since there is much less people identifying on aro/ace spectrums then there is gay or bi people our voices are being silenced. Not to mention that gay people received support from entire LGBTQIA+ community over the years in contrast to aro/ace specs who to this day are told that we are 'not queer enough' or 'not oppressed enough' often by other queer people.

And finally... FINALLY we get cannon Aro/Ace character that is clearly not interested in romance and sex. Character that beats stereotypes of boring and timid aro/ace people and what's the first people do? They ship him. Alastor's storyline provides so many points to be explored like 'what is his backstory', ' what's about his deal', ' how does he fit in in the found family trope' , 'does he care about hotel guests' yet people choose to write about the only thing that he is not interested in. As a heavily repulsed person that used to be horrified about the fact that I'll have to fall in love with somebody at some point before I found out what aro/ace is I find it repulsive and trust me he would too.

But Viv said it's okay!

Its the same point once again. What if Viv said that it's okay to ship gay Angel with woman. She doesn't have authority to say shit like that.

Queerplatonic relationships

I can't tell you not to do it I don't think he would be necessary interested in it but for fuck sake do your research and try to understand what queerplatonic means before you use it as a cover to shamelessly ship him. Respect the fact that he is sex repulsed and touch averse and you're fine.

Why can't you just avoid it?

First of all I shouldn't have to. Alastor's orientation should be respected in the fandom like any other orientation is. Second of all I've tried. I tried to only look up AroAce Alastor tag I've blocked over 80 people on tumblr alone (I just counted) to avoid to see anything that could trigger me and I'm not talking about slightly shippy posts or fanarts I'm talking about full blown disregard towards his orientation. Guess what it didn't work!

Archive of our own where do I start. I've used this website for over a decade and I could probably count days I didn't go there on my fingers. I'm fluent in AO3 I know which tags I should block. I know how to skim thorough the summary and tags to see if I'm interested. I've seen shit I'm a shipper I've been on ao3 for ten years but never had to mentally prepare myself to face queerphobia as I click on the tab.

Just use aro/ace Alastor tag.

I do and let me tell you people can't tag for shit or they just pretend to be clueless at this point. Besides see this?

there is more ff with Alastor/reader (disgusting) than there is Alastor with his canon orientation and to play the devils advocate for arophobic people there is more Angel/Alastor then his stated in the show sexuality. I understand that fandom goes back before the show was aired but Viv confirmed his orientation back then too.

Summary

I could go on and on bout different issues and maybe I will in the future but I'm not wasting anymore of this weekend on it. I'm ready to answer any questions as long as they are respectful.

I'm aware that he is a fictional character, it doesn't affect him in any way whatsoever but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind.

If there are any mistakes grammar related I'm not sorry I'm fluent in English (not my first language) but I took 3h nap in between and I'm sleep deprived.

Have a nice day.

[halfangelhavoc]

Largely on account of the game being a source of nostalgia for me, I find myself thinking about (and occasionally playing) World of Warcraft more than is maybe reasonable, and I have to say, Dragonflight is probably one of the best instances they could have ever given to demonstrate that the writers just. do not know what they're doing with the ideas they're presenting. This is gonna be a long and ultimately pointless ramble, so I'll put it under a cut.

So there are, in Warcraft cosmology, six fundamental forces; these mix and match in a variety of ways and create secondary forces, but the gist is that everything stems from these six - life and death, light and shadow, order and chaos. Each one opposite another, as described. For the most part, each of these six has had a group of deities representing each corresponding force; the most important of these for our purposes are the Titans, who represent order. For the majority of the story so far, the Titans have been an absolute good; they are, essentially, the gods responsible for shaping the world and the mortal races on its surface, and in fact the world itself plays host to the slumbering soul of a Titan, perhaps the most powerful one imaginable - once she wakes up, anyway.

In an attempt to add depth to the storyline, the writers have, of late, been slipping little shades of gray into what players had been brought to understand over the course of the plot; the Light is supposed to be good, but late in Legion we have a moment where one of the major protagonists almost gets powered up by it against his wishes - and not that he didn't voice dissent, but that his concern was ignored, downplayed, disregarded by the agent of the Light that was responsible. Battle for Azeroth gives us a revisit to Warlords of Draenor's alternate timeline, where the Light is represented by an army of paladins bent on forcing the will of the Light on the inhabitants, and killing those who do not fight back. It's lousily done, but on the surface there's nothing innately wrong with saying "maybe nobody here can be trusted in full". That's fine. That is something that can introduce depth, and god knows WoW needs some kind of depth.

So now, in the same vein, Dragonflight gives us hints that the Titans might not be what they appear: there are notes players can find, conversation between Titan Watchers (mechanical demigods who act on behalf of the Titans) suggesting that, among other things, they try to shape the narrative of the world's growth in the eyes of mortals; the Old Gods (Cthulhu-esque servants of the Void Lords, the closest we have to a pantheon of shadow), in an era long since passed, ruled the planet's surface under the iron grip of their Black Empire. As far as we've ever understood, that Empire was a terrible place to live - but through the dialogues between Titan Watchers, it's implied that this was the Titans writing the narrative, and that there were positive advancements from the Black Empire that had to be smothered for the sake of making them look uniformly evil. Again, lousily done, but alright, let's roll with it.

At long last, Dragonflight presents us with a continuation of the stories of the Dragon Aspects, the leaders of all dragonkind as we knew them, who received their powers from the Titan Watchers as thanks for uniting to bring down the progenitor of all dragonkind, Galakrond, who was corrupted and driven to madness by the Old Gods. Dragonflight has introduced, in particular, the Primal Incarnates, a group of dragons on the same level of power as the Aspects - who declined the Titan Watchers' gifts, instead believing that dragons' powers should be kept elemental, instead of what the Titans offered (IE fire, water, storm, and earth instead of life, magic, time, nature, and the deep earth - earth here meaning The World, not The Element Of Rocks And Stuff). The Primal Incarnates and the Primalists believe that the Titans corrupted the Dragon Aspects, that their "gifts" were a curse of sorts that steered the Aspects away from the natural state of dragonkind.

This is, on its face, all genuinely appealing to me. We have the narrative trying to deepen itself by suggesting there are no purely good cosmic forces - that all six must be balanced and that going too far in any direction of the six can be dangerous - and introducing a foil to a long-time group of (mostly) protagonists, arguing that those protagonists have fallen too far in line with one of those forces, supplementing the now-looming question of "can we trust the Titans, really". There's room in this for a compelling argument one way or the other: maybe the Primal Incarnates are right and the Titans' gifts were an attempt to impose order, control at that, on what they saw as a chaotic system in need of control for their purposes. Maybe the Dragon Aspects are right and the order "gifted" by the Titans, while ultimately meant to serve the Titans' ends, has been largely a boon for the mortal races the Dragon Aspects have taken it upon themselves to protect - a boon which the Incarnates' connections to the elements ultimately cannot provide.

All of this depth, all of this intrigue, goes out the window the moment we actually meet the Primal Incarnates and their Primalists, and they are universally murder-happy mad bombers whose mortal forces seek the destruction of their opposition, and whose leaders, the Incarnates, are solely on a warpath with no indications of nuance, room to be bargained with, or really any empathy at all for the Aspects - barely for each other, except that we've now killed one of the four Incarnates and a single cutscene briefly shows that a second of the four is a little sad about that. (A third one has gone Even More Kill Happy because of it.)

It's amazing to me, in a sick sort of way. This was the easiest bag in the world to just hold onto, "can we really trust the Titans if everything we've heard about the evils of our world has been in large part filtered through them and we're now seeing that they wanted control over the world and its inhabitants more than wanting those inhabitants to be safe and happy", and they fumbled it so hard that of the two sides we've been presented with for the argument, one side is Pretty Normal, Decently Well-Adjusted People and the other side is "this guy turned a village guard into an eternally-smoldering pile of ash for looking at him funny". They want the story to sound deep but they are absolutely unwilling to probe the depths they're inviting us to look into. They want to make the status quo seem unchanged without actually doing anything to change it.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Initiative pt 2 - ao3 or tumblr pt 1

It was just typical of his brother, Nie Huaisang thought. He finally, finally, finally found a girl that might suit him, agreed to marry her, and then he spent all his time worrying about…saber.

Typical.

Nie Huaisang volunteered himself to act as the family representative in negotiations with the Jiang sect, seeing as his brother would undoubtedly get them fleeced if he were trying to do it himself – “Try not to be too mercenary, Huaisang. We are the ones in the stronger position, through no fault of theirs.” –  and with one thing or another he arrived at the Lotus Pier less than a week after Jiang Yanli did.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian seemed rather surprised to see him.

“I haven’t had a moment to tell them,” Jiang Yanli said, pressing her head to her forehead and looking a little tired. “They’d just completed the memorial hall, when I arrived.”

“And it’s been nothing but keeping them from fighting ever since?” Nie Huaisang said, not without some sympathy.

Only some, though. If Jiang Yanli couldn’t handle Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian, even the grieved and tragic versions of them, what was she going to do the first time his brother went into a rage?

Maybe he was being too cold-blooded. After all, they’d been her parents, too.

“Your arrival is a good thing,” she said, narrowing her eyes a little in satisfaction. “Now they have no excuse to run away from me.”

Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

She summoned a few sect disciples, divided them neatly into two groups – one larger than the other – and instructed them to go bring her two recalcitrant brothers to the main hall. “You may use force,” she informed the larger group. “I would advise you that A-Xian is especially weak to tickling around his ribs, and don’t let him scare you off with that Yiling Patriarch stuff. And as for the group going to get A-Cheng – may I suggest looking especially pathetic when you convey the message that his sister, who he left alone for almost the entire war, would really like to see him if he has a moment to spare for her?”

Nie Huaisang’s smile broadened. “Tears,” he added solemnly. “Tears are very good. He hates tears.”

“Just so. Thank you all.”

“My brother is already planning out your saber,” he told her once the disciples had left, and she brightened visibly. “If there’s anything you want to contribute in terms of design, now’s the time – I brought mine in case you want to have a look later on.”

Aituan was in his luggage. Somewhere. His brother had refused to let him leave the Unclean Realm before he’d produced proof of saber, and he hadn’t unpacked since then, so surely it was somewhere.

“I’m sure whatever your brother comes up with will be fine,” she said. “I don’t know anything about weapons.”

A brief hesitation.

“Although, perhaps not – so large…?”

Nie Huaisang decided to be daring. He opened his fan in front of his face and looked at her over it, allowing his eyes to curve up in a smile. “Don’t worry about that – though if all goes well, you’re going to have to accustom yourself to dealing with a large saber at some point in the process.”

She burst out laughing, which was good.

“Nie Huaisang!” Oh, look, Jiang Cheng was here. “What are you saying to my sister? You’d better not be harassing her!”

“What would you do if I was?” Nie Huaisang wondered. “I mean, I’m not, I don’t think, but –”

“Just don’t.”

“A-Cheng,” Jiang Yanli said. “Be polite. Where’s A-Xian? I have something to tell you both.”

Wei Wuxian came in a few moments later, grumbling and rubbing his ribs but brightening when he saw them all gathered up there, and he slid into place by Jiang Cheng’s side easy as anything even if they did sort of stare awkwardly with quasi-glares, quasi-grimaces at each other first.

And then Jiang Yanli told them why Nie Huaisang was there, and all awkwardness fell away at once so that they could unite in glaring at Nie Huaisang.

“Why are you looking at me for?” he asked. “I’m not the one marrying her, that’s my brother.”

“If you had anything to do with this –” Wei Wuxian started, doing his whole looming-with-the-subtonal-wailing-of-dark-forces Yiling Patriarch thing, but ticklish around the ribs and a summer of nonsense didn’t really do much to encourage fear in Nie Huaisang, who’d never had as much common sense as a regular person ought.

“Oh, no, I objected to it,” Nie Huaisang said breezily. “Your sister doesn’t deserve my brother.”

And that, of course, got them both up in arms even more.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with my sister?” Jiang Cheng shouted, and Wei Wuxian’s aura-of-darkness got even more out of hand as he crossed his arms and glared death. “She’d be a great bride for anyone! Give me one reason –”

“I’m glad to have your support, didi,” Jiang Yanli said, calmly ladling out the soup she’d promised Nie Huaisang as if they were sitting in the midst of a nice breeze instead of a hurricane, and okay, fine, maybe his brother had a point about the importance of things like backbone and patience. “Don’t worry so much. If Nie-er-gongzi is here as his brother’s representative, that must mean he’s accepted the match.”

Or that he was here to sabotage it, but he appreciated her good faith interpretation.

“Please, just Huaisang is fine,” he said, smiling at her. “You’ll be my sister-in-law soon enough, won’t you?”

“We haven’t agreed yet!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed.

“Oh, like your opinion matters,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “You know how many people have put good money down on you leaving the Jiang sect in the next three-to-six months?”

That got all of them looking like they’d just been unexpectedly stabbed in the chest, Jiang Yanli included.

“What?” he asked, batting his eyelashes innocently at them. “Did I say something wrong? Everyone knows you aren’t doing anything for the Jiang sect anymore, Wei-xiong. All the rumors says so, and the only reason for that is if you were planning on ditching now that you don’t need them anymore.”

“That’s enough,” Jiang Yanli said, and there was a bit of steel in her voice. “A-Xian isn’t leaving, and even if he was, his opinion on my marriage would still matter to me.”

“That’s one of the reasons I objected,” Nie Huaisang said to her, deciding that she was clearly the only one mature enough to have this extremely necessary discussion with. “Meaning no offense, but in every possible respect, you’re a bad match. If you marry my brother, will you be expecting him to run around defending everything the Yiling Patriarch does whenever he’s in the mood to thumb his nose at the cultivation world? Or paying for the Lotus Pier’s reconstruction costs, even though Jiang-xiong hasn’t made a single overture to our Nie sect in terms of reestablishing trade routes or even just swapping craftsmen for mutual benefit?”

Both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were positively black in the face.

“Of course, even if you weren’t going to anchor him down with even more political obligations, there’s your personal value,” Nie Huaisang continued, tapping his finger against his cheek. “Word has it that you’re weak and sickly. Who’s to say that you won’t die along with the first child you bear –”

“How dare you talk about my shijie like that!” Wei Wuxian shouted, slamming his hand down on the table, while Jiang Cheng’s Zidian crackled lightning like an overactive firework. “How dare you –”

“And do you still support the marriage, even with all of these disadvantages?” Jiang Yanli asked, holding up her hands to hold her brothers back. Her eyes were a bit wet, but she was otherwise unperturbed, at least on the surface.

“I do, actually,” Nie Huaisang said, pleased. Even if she went to go cry later, which he didn’t think she would, she’d done well enough to pass his personal test of what constituted backbone. “My brother doesn’t care about politics, we have plenty of money, and there’s doctors for the rest of it. If you’re really willing to put in the effort, I’d be happy to call you my sister-in-law.”

Jiang Cheng was hissing like a pot of water on the boil. Wei Wuxian was grinding his teeth.

“I appreciate that,” Jiang Yanli said, disregarding them entirely. “I can promise you that I’ll do my best.”

“Good, good,” Nie Huaisang said, and grinned at her. “There’s only enough room for one useless flower vase in the Nie household, and the position is taken. By me, if that’s not clear. I brought my brother’s eight characters – do you have yours at hand? We can calculate the auspicious date immediately.”

“I still haven’t agreed!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, and Jiang Yanli reached out to touch his arm lightly. “I haven’t! Jiejie, you don’t have to marry anyone you don’t want to, no matter what good things you think it’d bring to the sect, okay? You should marry for love!”

“Jiang Cheng’s right, shijie,” Wei Wuxian said at once. “You should get anyone you like. Even if you still want that stupid Jin sect peacock, we’d find a way to get him for you.”

Nie Huaisang looked at Jiang Yanli carefully at that one. It was even odds if his brother minded her having some vestigial affections, especially in the beginning, but he himself wouldn’t be having any of that – least of all with a Jin, no matter how much better Jin Zixuan seemed to be than his father.

His brother deserved someone who would put him first, this time.

“No, thank you,” she said without the slightest hesitation, and Nie Huaisang nodded in approval. “Young Master Jin has made his opinion about me clear enough, and not just once. I’m not going to run after him like I think that’s all I’m good for. And anyway, Chifeng-zun is a good man, who you both greatly admire – why can’t I marry him?”

“You can marry anyone you want,” Jiang Cheng said at once.

“And I want to marry him,” she said, and smiled. “At first, yes, it was primarily because he seemed to offer the most advantages for our sect, but…I don’t know. He’s very nice.”

Nie Huaisang mouthed the word ‘nice’ to himself, rolling it around in his mouth like a fine wine. It might be the first time anyone had ever described his brother that way.

“I think I would be happy being married to him,” she concluded. “Even very happy. Will you approve?”

They folded like a stack of cards.

“Oh, I like you,” Nie Huaisang told her, finally but now wholly delighted. “It’ll be good for my brother.”

And it’ll be interesting to see how the Jin sect takes it, he thought with a smirk half-hidden behind his fan. Since you bring the power and influence of whole Jiang sect with you, and the Yiling Patriarch too.

He wouldn’t mention that, of course.

Only an idiot would negotiate against themselves.

[spooky-z]

[1/13] K-12

First let's go to the important topics in this story:

I have already given a very general idea about the story here. Things that I will not (probably) go deeper into the story, but that if you didn't know, you would be confused. So read this post before starting the story.

I plan to update every Friday. It can be the day before (Thursday) or the day after (Saturday), in case something happens.

Warnings (for the whole story): Plenty of salt for Lila, Alya and Bustier, but this is nothing new.

1.4K

Chapter 1:

Wheels on the bus

I know the driver sees it I know he's peeking in the rearview mirror He says nothing Trying to ignore it, it's fucking boring I'm quietly observing I'm saying nothing

And there was Marinette again, being scolded for something that was not her responsibility. Being used as a scapegoat for everyone and anyone who acted wrongly.

“-And you know it's not Lila's fault. The poor girl has a serious illness and you, more than anyone, should understand her situation before antagonizing her.” Bustier sighs as if the bullshit she was spitting on the teenager was the bloody holy grail. “You have to be an example-“

And that was where Marinette let her mind run wild. Her face was blank while all she could think about was how tired she was.

Caline Bustier was no longer Marinette's dream teacher. There was a time, between her seven and eight years, when she really wished she could stay with the teacher until she graduated and had to go to college, but that was over now. Nowadays, the teenager wanted to keep as much distance as possible from the teacher.

Marinette was emotionally exhausted. Worn to the edges with scorn, and the way of acting as if it were not relevant.

There were times when she thought of simply throwing her backpack over her shoulder, leaving the classroom without caring about the world and never coming back. And that required a lot of her to keep quiet, without moving a muscle, not wanting to cause a scene.

But even though she knew her parents would support her, she remained strong.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was neither weak nor a dropout. She was a fighter, a very, very experienced fighter.

"-So, I want you to go in there and apologize to Lila and the rest of the class." Caline smiled sweetly and Marinette raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Bustier, but it won't happen." The girl responded with the best disregard tone she could do.

Ms. Bustier quickly dropped the smile and an outraged expression took over.

"What do you mean ‘it will not happen'?" Marinette was grateful for the hours she had spent with Damian training her poker face, because if it weren't for that, she would have burst into laughter at that point.

The teacher seemed about to burst a vein. Her face was growing redder and her eyes were twitching.

“Exactly what I said. This will not happen." The brunette crossed her arms.

“But you are the representative! The example!" Ms. Bustier countered.

"Do you want me to apologize just because I'm the class representative?"

"Yes-NO-I mean-"

"OK then." Marinette replied, her posture becoming more casual and relaxed.

Caline was surprised by the sudden change in behavior, but smiled nonetheless.

"So, are you going to apologize?"

"No. I am leaving the position of representative.”

The teacher felt as if her soul had left her body.

“W-what? Leaving?” She mumbled weakly.

"Yea. If in order to be a class representative I have to become the carpet where everyone cleans their dirty feet, then I prefer to leave.” Marinette waves dismissively. "And that's a good thing, since I don't speak to half the class anymore and that makes my job more difficult."

Ms. Bustier looked more and more lost.

She had called Marinette to talk privately and as she had done several times before, she tried to convince the girl to be more understanding with her classmates.

It was not the first time the two had this exact conversation, but in all previous times, Marinette had been easily convinced to retreat. The girl had a heart of gold and that was why Caline often chose her to show the class what good behavior was like.

But this time obviously, she was not listening to the voice of reason and Caline was concerned about her student.

Since Marinette joined in a particularly unusual friendship with Chloe, the girl who before was sweet and assertive, was now armed with sharp words and sharp looks.

“B-But you fought so hard to get this place! You can't go out like that!” Caline insisted, feeling desperate.

Marinette raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“I'm out, Ms. Bustier. You can choose someone else to serve as a punching bag for bullies because I, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, am sick of it.”

And with that the girl left, leaving Caline Bustier stunned behind.

The teacher didn’t know what else to think, but she felt that moments of tension would come from her class in the near future.

And she was not at all prepared to deal with it.

ˣˣˣ

"... and then I told her that was enough for me!" Marinette finished speaking and brought her fork to her mouth to enjoy the cheese tortellini that Luka had prepared.

"You did well, Mari." Alix said with her mouth full and the cheeks puffed up with food and not at all concerned with how disgusting it was. “Bustier has always been a facilitator!”

Chloe, who was just finishing eating, wrinkled her nose in disgust both for Alix's lack of decency and the fact that Ms. Bustier was a terrible teacher.

“Swallow before speaking Kubdel. It's disgusting to have to see this chewed baby food, ugh! " She pretended to shiver and Alix opened her mouth even more in retaliation. "OK! Enough- Anyway. Late, but you finally faced her, Dupain-Cheng. I'm proud."

Marinette looked at the blonde in surprise. She was not so vocal about their friendship in front of others, still trying to maintain the snobbish pose.

"Awn, our Chloe's heart just grew an inch!" Adrien, who was sitting on Chloe's right side, reached out and squeezed the girl's cheeks. "Look at this character development."

"I never thought I would live to see that day." Max adjusted his glasses.

"This year has been the year of revelations." Kim twitched his eyebrows, bringing the glass of water to his mouth.

Chloe slapped Adrien's hands away, her face red in embarrassment.

“S-stop it! We're talking about Mari kicking Bustier's ass, not me!”

Kagami smiled fondly at the girl.

Since they had found this safe haven in the form of friends and partners, Kagami, Adrien and Chloe were increasingly comfortable opening up to be themselves, without fear.

"But we can also talk about how cute you look when you show support for our friends, じ ょ お う (jo-ō)." She teased.

Luka clapped his hands. “Even Kagami joined. Now you're going to have to put up with it, Chlo.” He laughed at the blonde's displeased expression.

“Do I have to get involved in this? Because I prefer to continue eating these tortellini which is, I must say, delicious.” Damian pointed his fork at Luka. "If you don't pursue the rockstar career, you might as well open your own restaurant."

Everyone saw how the always composed, Luka Couffaine, tried to hide the blush on his face with his hands, but the red ears denounced him.

They laughed as Marinette kissed behind the boy's left ear and Damian placed his hand on his right hand on the table.

They all sat at the Wayne's extensive dining table, with Titus lying next to the living room door and Alfred the cat using the dog as a bed.

They had all gathered for lunch at the house - almost a damn castle, because the rich like to spend unnecessary money - that the Wayne's had in Paris.

When Damian had told them, three months ago, that he would be coming to live in Paris for a few years, Marinette and Luka were excited about it. They would be able to see their boyfriend often, as he would be a short distance away and would not have to juggle because of the time zone.

Marinette honestly thought that Bruce would rent an apartment to Damian - Jason and Cassandra, who also decided to leave Gotham for a while - since it wasn't something definitive, just a few - three - years... Needless to say, she was more than surprised when Damian took the group of friends to the most famous mansion in Paris.

The Chateau Louis XIV. The most expensive house in all of Paris and perhaps even in the world.

A huge place just for three people, two pets and a butler.

Damn the bourgeois. She didn't understand these rich guys.

The rest of the lunch was spent in a light and playful mood, making Marinette finally relax and recharge.

After all, she still had a second round about to happen when she returned for the rest of the day's classes.

[pub-lius]

Can you tell me about James Madison?

Of course! I can talk about Jemmy Mads all day my guy.

So I will be talking mainly about who he was as a person instead of the timeline of his life, since I'll be discussing that more in depth later on. If you're looking more for that, I'd recommend these sources: The Three Lives of James Madison by Noah Feldman or Montpelier's library of information . If anyone else has recommendations or extra information, feel free to add it. Keep in mind, I present my theories based off extensive research as fact, but they could potentially be disproven. I'll do my best to include sources for my claims, but most of them are from the novel shown above.

James Madison was a relatively small man, around 5'4" (162.56 cm). If you hear anything about him being less than 110 pounds (~49.9 kg), that’s not true. He was not THAT underweight. He wore his brown hair pulled back into a queue and powdered white, even when that was highly out of fashion. It was rare to see him wearing any color but black, and he usually looked bored or perturbed. He wasn’t very social, like at all. At his inaugural ball, he is quoted as saying that although he was staying at the event longer, “I would much rather be in bed.”

James was born James Madison Jr. on March 16, 1751, the eldest of twelve children. In the 18th century, this meant that he was expected to maintain the family name in both contemporary society as well as posterity. Consequently, James was given an extensive education. He was educated at local schools until he went to college at the College of New Jersey, now Princeton.

James' college experience was unique for two reasons. The first was that he didn't attend William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia, because of his health. It was believed that the humid air of Virginia would do damage to James' fragile health. Also, at Princeton, he was exposed to a much more liberal education than what was expected from William and Mary. Princeton was a Presbyterian university, and as Madison was Anglican (attending the Church of England), he was surrounded by new, different opinions on religion as well as politics.

Fast forward a bunch of time and we find Jemmy in Philadelphia. He was staying in Philadelphia with his new friend, Thomas Jefferson, and was just starting his career in the Confederation Congress (everyone’s favorite group of guys). Jefferson and Madison were staying with the ICONIC Mrs. House, and while they were there, Madison met a young lady named Catherine Floyd, also called Kitty. Jefferson noticed that James kinda liked her, so he started to basically play matchmaker. Well, Jefferson eventually left, and let’s just say, it didn’t work out between James and Kitty. 

Something happened between Madison and Floyd during a gap of time during the summer of 1783. Then, in August, Madison wrote a really dejected, barely legible letter to Jefferson telling him that he got dumped by a sixteen year old. Later, Madison would cross out some of the lines.

“At the date of my letter in April I expected to have had the pleasure by this time of being with you in Virginia. My disappointment has proceeded from several dilatory circumstances on which I had not calculated. [this following part is crossed out] One of them was the uncertain state into which the object I was then pursuing had been brought by one of those incidents to which such affairs are liable... It would be improper by this communication to send particular explanations, and perhaps needless to trouble you with them at any time.”

Jefferson’s response is also important to note, as I believe it says much about their relationship.

“I sincerely lament the misadventure which has happened, from whatever cause it may have happened... Should it be final however, the world still presents the same and many other resources of happiness, and you possess many within yourself... Firmness of mind and unintermitting occupations will not long leave you in pain... No event has been more contrary to my expectations, and these were founded on what I thought a good knowledge of the ground... But of all machines ours is the most complicated and inexplicable.”

The reason I include these excerpts is because I find they are at least partially representative of how James was affected by this rejection, the way he and Jefferson interacted, and how he thought about relationships. 

First, theres how he was affected. In Madison’s future behavior, he seems to care a good deal about his friends’ political perspectives, especially Jefferson’s. For example, when Hamilton was proposing his national bank and Jefferson was opposing it, Madison sided with his closer friend, Jefferson, and opposed the national bank. When Madison was president and less under Jefferson’s influence, he supported the national bank. This is a pattern I noticed, especially between him and Jefferson, but there are several exceptions in which Madison actively voices opposition to Jefferson’s opinions.

Secondly, about how he and Jefferson’s relationship. I will go a bit more in-depth on Jefferson’s part in this in his own post, but this mainly centers around my theory that Jefferson had a narcissistic personality, at the least, (disregard for others’ feelings, unemotional traits, need for admiration, etc). Madison, on the other hand, always wanted to appease those he admired, especially Jefferson, who, for the first part of their relationship, he viewed as a mentor. This created a bit of a one-sided dynamic in their friendship at times. (That isn’t to say their friendship was toxic or ingenuine. They both clearly cared a lot for each other.)

This seems to apply to several other relationships of Madison’s, such as Alexander Hamilton and Edmund Randolph. With both of these men, James disagreed with them politically, but justified their friendship with his maxim that, “friends don’t have to agree on politics!” Well, neither of them remained friends, and though I believe Jefferson played a role in the outcomes of both those situations, I also believe that ended as it did because of the way both parties viewed the concept of friendship.

In conclusion, James Madison was a studious, broad thinking man who valued friendship greatly, often prioritizing his friends’ opinions. There are many other interesting things about him, and I will try to cover as many as possible. I think its important for people to know more about Madison as he played several key roles in the founding of the United States. His politics and philosophies could be thought provoking, and his life experiences may be relatable to some, two things I believe are valuable. Feel free to ask further questions that I didn’t answer!

[gusu-emilu]

scattered (Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning)

Jiang Cheng pays a late night visit to Wen Ning's apothecary and convinces him to take a break from work.

Rated T, Established Relationship Fluff, feat. chengning being dorks and jc getting pinned to the floor

read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

* * *

Wen Ning has lost track of how long he has been working in the apothecary today, sifting through a list of the medicine stocks that could use a buffer and creating new batches of each remedy. It's peaceful work. Familiar, repetitive motions and calculations that calm his mind.

His techniques have been improving with each new medicine he makes, his hands steadier and his anxieties calmer as he imagines Jiejie's instructions in the back of his mind, correcting his mistakes before they happen. He once depended on her guidance to make the simplest remedy. Now he has memorized medicines she once invented herself. Working as a healer in Lotus Pier has given him plenty of practice to reach this point in his medical skills.

Although, today the recipes’ details have been slipping from his mind more than he would like. It’s not a problem, though. Some days will be better than others. Today happens to be a day during which his thoughts are a bit hazy.

His apothecary is small and modest and a bit secluded, leaving him more comfortable to spend long stretches of time working here. It occupies its own pocket of Lotus Pier, surrounded by herb gardens, and always quiet enough for Wen Ning to focus on his work.

Now that night has fallen, it is especially silent. The only sounds in his shop are gentle noises of brewing and tapping and sealing, his work chattering back and forth with the crickets and frogs in the garden outside.

He wonders how many of these medicines could have an effect on him. His body barely responds to anything he eats or drinks anymore, although he can sometimes taste or smell very strong flavors. As he packages another finished batch of medicine, he almost laughs to himself at the memory of when he ate an entire chili pepper in front of a group of young Jiang disciples in the market. The juniors had been so amazed that they bought a whole basket of chili peppers for him just to see how many he could eat, giggling and cheering him on. Wen Ning never thought he could entertain others just by eating, especially after he was dead, but he had welcomed the opportunity to make a few new friends among the junior disciples. One of them even stops by to visit the apothecary now and then.

Some of these medicines do taste very strong, and very bad, but Wen Ning would not waste a drop just to test if he can taste how disgusting they are. Others will need the remedies one day. What interests Wen Ning more is if the sleeping draughts can still make him sleep, or if the cough remedies can smooth his throat, and so on. Since he has no need for medicine anymore, he has never tried to use it. Alcohol does have a miniscule effect on him if he drinks more than he ever could have stomached while alive, as he learned at the somewhat prickly encouragement of Jiang Wanyin, so maybe...

Well, he is not going to eat his own medicine stocks. Perhaps he'll try if one of the bottles goes bad. See what happens. Wouldn't harm him, at least, and Wei-gongzi would probably be very intrigued by the results.

Reigning in his attention back to his task—good thing his mind wasn't wandering during an important step—Wen Ning finishes sealing the medicine package and crosses off another line from his list. He scans the rest of what he's written, wondering how many batches he can start before the sun rises.

His gaze settles on a potion to dispel the effects of a curse from the body. The current stores of it are well-stocked, but Jiang Wanyin did just get a curse wound on a night hunt a few weeks ago. It could happen again. For the next few days after that, Wen Ning had personally administered the medicine to Jiang Wanyin, rubbing it into the gash on his back...

Focusing. Wen Ning is focusing on apothecary work. He has always been prone to his thoughts strolling away on journeys of their own, but tonight seems especially bad. He reads over his list again, then another time, and another time, and realizes he can only remember half of what's written. His mind really is foggy tonight.

The next thing he brews should be simple, then, in case his lack of focus starts to cause some damage. The simplest medicine left on the list would be—

The front door opens.

Blue moonlight curves around a silhouette in the doorway that Wen Ning recognizes well. A tingle of anticipation and fondness runs through him.

It truly must be late if Jiang Wanyin has left his office and come to visit. Jiang Wanyin usually works into the night so he has more time during the day to supervise his disciples' training and take care of sect matters in person rather than sending a representative. Wen Ning admires him for his devotion to his clan, but it also means that Wen Ning has to interfere and step into Jiang Wanyin’s office late at night to convince him to sleep.

So what has brought Jiang Wanyin to the apothecary? With a pang of guilt, Wen Ning wonders if Jiang Wanyin has been having more trouble sleeping than usual lately. Did Wen Ning fail to notice? Should he have brought him medicine tonight to help?

Without a word, Jiang Wanyin closes the door and approaches the table where Wen Ning has been holding his list up to the lantern light, still undecided about which medicine would be the simplest to make. It doesn't seem that the decision will come easily now.

He looks up at Jiang Wanyin, studying how his hair ornament is simpler than usual, how his posture is relaxed yet his eyes have a chiding hardness in them, and tries to piece these observations together into the reason for Jiang Wanyin's visit.

Brow slightly furrowed, Jiang Wanyin glances around the room, then asks, “Are you in the middle of anything right now?"

"No. I just finished a batch."

That seems to appease some complaint Jiang Wanyin might have had, his jaw relaxing and eyes softening. "Good."

Before Wen Ning can ask anything, Jiang Wanyin circles around Wen Ning's desk, sits behind him, and wraps his arms around him, pulling him away from the table. He rests his chin on Wen Ning's shoulder, his hair brushing Wen Ning's ear.

Warmth trickles into Wen Ning. Like all sensations, it comes delayed, flowing in gradually like a growing echo of Jiang Wanyin's arms winding around him, the rise and fall of Jiang Wanyin’s breath against his back, and his cheek finding the exposed skin on Wen Ning's neck to rest on. It's still strange to experience touch this way, but Wen Ning has started to like it—a way to savor Jiang Wanyin's embrace as its effects enter him in small waves.

"Wanyin, wh—"

Three fingers cover Wen Ning's mouth before he can say more. They remain there for a few moments, then lift for one finger to trace along Wen Ning's lower lip, another along his chin.

"Do you have a grievance to air?" Jiang Wanyin asks, a hint of teasing in his voice.

"I don't," Wen Ning replies as Jiang Wanyin strokes his lower lip again.

"Very well," Jiang Wanyin says. "I do. How long have you been working?"

Wen Ning leans back into him. "How long have you?"

That earns him another silencing press to his lips. "I'm asking the questions right now," Jiang Wanyin says. Wen Ning can guess why he doesn't want to answer.

Unable to speak and in no hurry to remove Jiang Wanyin's hand, Wen Ning simply hums and nods in compliance. He considers licking Jiang Wanyin's fingers, just to protest a bit, but the thought comes too late and the hand settles back around his midriff.

"I'm not sure how long," Wen Ning replies.

Jiang Wanyin lifts his chin from Wen Ning's shoulder and pokes the back of his neck. "Lack of specificity," he drones like he's calling out a crime before a court. "I don't tolerate disregard for detail in my sect. What is the cause of this?"

Wen Ning holds up the list of medicines to eye level for Jiang Wanyin to see. "All of my specificity went into these."

Jiang Wanyin takes the paper, then unravels himself from Wen Ning and steals it away. Looking over his shoulder, Wen Ning watches him carefully fold the paper until he reaches forward to gently turn Wen Ning's face away.

A few more sounds of folding paper, then Jiang Wanyin's arms slip back around him. Wen Ning finds himself disappointed that he is held more loosely this time, although the warmth isn't any lessened.

"You've seemed scattered lately," Jiang Wanyin says, suddenly serious. Perhaps a bit angry, too, but he often sounds like that.

"I have?"

"When you mix up the addresses of your letters to the juniors three times in one week, I think it's fair to say you seem scattered." Jiang Wanyin rubs Wen Ning's shoulder and down his arm. "You should rest more! Have you even come close to running out of the medicines on that list yet?"

"Don't worry about me." Wen Ning finds Jiang Wanyin's hand and halts its path up his arm. "You know that I don't need sleep. I even have time to start a few more batches before sunrise."

In one rapid motion, Jiang Wanyin tugs his hand out from under Wen Ning's and lightly smacks down on it, reversing their position and holding tight. "No new batches. Your mind needs to rest."

A wry smile tugs at the corners of Wen Ning's mouth. "What if I start a new batch anyway?"

"Then I crack your skull open." When Wen Ning just laughs, Jiang Wanyin pulls him in even tighter, digging his fingers into Wen Ning's sides. “You have no choice, anyway. I'm holding you captive."

Wen Ning raises his eyebrows and turns his face toward Jiang Wanyin. "Hold me captive? Can you?"

Both of them know that Wen Ning could easily break free, but Jiang Wanyin answers gruffly, "Your mind is so worn out that you have forgotten what I'm capable of."

"It sounds like Sandu Shengshou came here for a battle."

"No, but it sounds like the Ghost General is eager to fight."

"You can have the advantage," Wen Ning says. "I'll let you strike first."

He expects that to earn an offended crackle from Zidian, sending a tingle up his chest, but when he looks down at Jiang Wanyin's hands, he is surprised to find that he is not wearing the spiritual weapon.

"Where is Zidian?"

Jiang Wanyin points to the edge of the desk, somehow managing to make that small gesture smug. Wen Ning is not sure when Jiang Wanyin took off Zidian without him noticing, but the knowledge causes something to tug at his insides. That Jiang Wanyin trusts him so much to forfeit the security of his family's heirloom in his company.

Or perhaps the feeling has something to do with their past, the memory of being struck with Zidian. They rarely talk about those days anymore. Perhaps Zidian losing its place between them is a sign that those times have long ended.

A few moments of silence pass between them, until Wen Ning says, "I'm waiting."

"Suit yourself."

Jiang Wanyin slowly pulls at Wen Ning's collar, loosening the fold of his hanfu, then slips his hand underneath the layers to stroke circles along Wen Ning's bare chest. The heat seeps in faster this time, a trail of warmth following Jiang Wanyin's palm, and suddenly Wen Ning wants the feeling over his entire body.

It was, regrettably, a very effective first move. Wen Ning stifles the urge to turn around to face Jiang Wanyin, to satisfy the growing craving for hot skin under his fingertips. Instead, Wen Ning arches his back to lean into the touch as Jiang Wanyin runs his hand through longer patterns.

"Your counter?" Jiang Wanyin asks.

Wen Ning forces himself to think through the options that don't involve flipping around and pinning Jiang Wanyin to the floor, which he would very much like to do right now. Despite the stiffness of his joints, they have a larger range of motion than he did in life, but even then, he can't do much when Jiang Wanyin is behind him. He could jab him in the sides or blindly fiddle with his hair ornament to remove it, but something tells Wen Ning that these would just leave him unsatisfied and even hungrier for touch.

"I...I can't reach you very well like this," Wen Ning says.

"Truly a pity," Jiang Wanyin murmurs, not sounding at all like he means it, and begins kissing Wen Ning's neck.

Jiang Wanyin moves to tuck another hand under Wen Ning's robes—his right hand—but Wen Ning catches his wrist. He wants to study what the sect leader’s battle-worn hand looks like without Zidian coiled around it, what it looks like plain and unarmored. Although, the task is a bit difficult to focus on with Jiang Wanyin's mouth on his neck.

Wen Ning traces the faint indents left by the winding body of the snake, wondering if what he sees is a pattern left by its embossed scales or if that’s just his imagination. Jiang Wanyin never takes off Zidian, not even to sleep. It would not be surprising if the texture has been engraved into his skin, as the weapon has become like an extension of his body, responding to his emotions and expressing them.

How much must it mean for Jiang Wanyin to remove it in his presence?

After several light strokes at the exposed skin of his wrist, Jiang Wanyin's breath hitches, a suck of air on Wen Ning's neck, and his fingers twitch involuntarily.

Wen Ning pauses. "What's wrong?"

Jiang Wanyin is slow to answer. "Nothing."

Not quite believing him, Wen Ning caresses the soft skin on his wrist again. Jiang Wanyin curls his fingers.

"Are you sure nothing is wrong? Does your wrist hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt." Wen Ning feels Jiang Wanyin hunch over into him, feels his chin rub along Wen Ning's shoulder as he turns his face away. "It's just...sensitive, I guess. The constant presence of spiritual energy can do that."

"From Zidian?"

Jiang Wanyin answers with only an affirmative hum, quiet, as if he is embarrassed. Wen Ning resumes gently stroking the delicate skin.

“Do you like it?" he asks, knowing full well that Jiang Wanyin will not answer if he does.

As expected, no response comes except for wandering touches under Wen Ning's robes and kisses at his neck that seem a bit agitated and spiteful, making something jump inside Wen Ning. For what must be the tenth time, he suppresses the impulse to trap Jiang Wanyin with his back against the floor and kiss him breathless.

Instead, he practices patience, and brushes his fingernails across Jiang Wanyin's wrist in quick motions. Jiang Wanyin flips his hand, hiding the underside of his wrist. Sensitive indeed.

Wen Ning likes this about Jiang Wanyin. A man who takes such effort to present a strong, indomitable presence to others is bound to harbor hidden softness more delicate than most, weak spots that Wen Ning is permitted to discover. Although he has learned that Jiang Wanyin enjoys the harsher touches that are inevitable from a fierce corpse, and he has come to enjoy submitting Jiang Wanyin to them, there is something entrancing about finding small ways to make him wriggle. Proof that Wen Ning can still be gentle when he tries. That despite his nature, his attempts at gentleness are still pleasurable. That he can gather these little reactions, which he definitely does not replay in his mind more often than he should.

Eventually, Jiang Wanyin seems too tormented by the caresses on his wrist, repeatedly scrunching his fingers with more force each time until he hides the hand under Wen Ning's robes. Strokes Wen Ning's chest and stomach with both hands.

"Hey," Wen Ning protests. "You took away my one advantage."

"You did say you were giving me the advantage." As if to flaunt the unfairness of their position, Jiang Wanyin licks behind Wen Ning's ear, making him shudder.

"I didn't say you could keep it."

Jiang Wanyin gives a low, resonant hum. "Oh? Is that so?"

He reaches farther down Wen Ning's body, rolling thumbs over his hipbones, then centering over his lower abdominal muscles to inch down slowly.

Arousal feels different for Wen Ning now, dulled and somehow separate from himself. But it's there. Yes, the sensation is very much there, making his palms itch and sending a faint thrum into his ears.

This provocation would be a good reason for Wen Ning to finally let down his inhibitions. He's spent his entire life and un-life biting back his lip in patience. Right now he'd like to turn the tables and bite Jiang Wanyin's lip instead.

Maybe his apothecary shop is not the most appropriate place to look over his shoulder, narrow his eyes at Jiang Wanyin, and grab the man’s wrists. Nor is it proper to push him down and pin his wrists to the floor. Nor is it befitting to watch Jiang Wanyin's breath quicken and his cheeks flush as Wen Ning straddles him. But Wen Ning doesn't really regret it once it’s done.

Jiang Wanyin's gaze darts to his captured wrists, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He meets Wen Ning's eyes and glares at him. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I'm supposed to be resting my mind."

"Then you better not be thinking about any of this." A slight snarl curves Jiang Wanyin's smirk. "No scheming. No plotting."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Wen Ning says as he slides Jiang Wanyin's wrists over his head and restrains both with one hand, sneaking his other hand under Jiang Wanyin's robes.

“Liar," Jiang Wanyin hisses, practically breathing out the word, as Wen Ning paints paths along bare skin with his cold touch, feeling Jiang Wanyin try not to squirm.

"I suppose you don't tolerate those offenses in your sect, either," Wen Ning says as he uses his free hand to untie Jiang Wanyin's robes.

He stops and checks Jiang Wanyin's expression for approval, watching him suck in his lower lip and stare hungrily at where Wen Ning's hand has paused. Then he goes back to working at the ties, taking longer than usual without the help of his left hand.

"You're correct," Jiang Wanyin snaps, but his eyes hold a glint of pleasure. "A few more violations, and I kick you out of Lotus Pier."

"Uh-huh," Wen Ning murmurs. "Tell me more about that later."

Jiang Wanyin pushes his wrists up against Wen Ning's grip, but Wen Ning only smiles and presses down harder as he finishes opening the robes. Amber light from the lantern mingles with blue moonlight from the window, reaching around Wen Ning's shadow over Jiang Wanyin's body, illuminating his exposed skin with soft highlights that show the curves of his muscles. Wen Ning lowers for a short kiss at the center of Jiang Wanyin's chest, then a much longer kiss on his mouth, feeling the warmth of Jiang Wanyin's tongue.

"How about you kick me out to the bed?" Wen Ning says between glides over Jiang Wanyin's lips.

Already anticipating the answer, Wen Ning shifts his posture to begin releasing his weight from Jiang Wanyin's body, unwittingly giving him the opportunity to buck his knees against Wen Ning's thighs and nearly knock him off balance.

"There. I kicked you," Jiang Wanyin says. Judging by the smug arch of his eyebrows and lips, he is so obviously self-satisfied with his ridiculous response that Wen Ning almost bursts into laughter.

"Alright, I'll go there now." Wen Ning rises to his feet and straightens his robes.

Jiang Wanyin blinks a few times, then practically jumps up, scowling as he reties his robes and reaches down to the desk for Zidian to coil around his wrist "No. You'll follow me," he orders, as if going to the bed was his idea. He marches away without another word.

Wen Ning smiles. Comforting warmth still swirls around inside him, both calming him and buzzing in his chest with anticipation.

"I'll follow you," he agrees.

He cuts in front of Jiang Wanyin's path to get out the door before him.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this story, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!

[mylordshesacactus]

Man, the way Robyn’s position in space has been used the past two episodes is PHENOMENAL.

This uh. This REALLY, REALLY got away from me so I’m gonna put it under a cut.

Like, in Cordially Invited it’s REALLY unsubtle and I’ve talked at length about it before so I won’t go over the whole thing again but like. She starts out in plain sight but a lot of people completely missed her on their first watch--she’s wearing muted colors and standing against a shadow, off to the side, unacknowledged by the characters until she announces herself.

She’s also the only one over by the window, back to the dining room, looking out over Mantle. The only one watching over them. 

And then of course she sits in the exact center between Ironwood and the Council, taking neither side. Coincidentally, because the Council has three people and Ironwood’s end of the table has four, as I’ve said before--the person she’s closest to, though they’re on opposite sides of the table, ends up being Penny....the Protector of Mantle.

She argues with both ends, though she is mostly speaking to Ironwood because that’s the purpose of the meeting--to make him answer for his actions.

This week, in a week of EVENTS and awful revelations and blood-freezing moments, this shot was actually one of the most chilling:

She’s physically turned to align herself with the Council against Ironwood, for the first time. This was the part that had me covering my mouth saying Robyn make good choices MAKE GOOD CHOICES.

And then it gets very interesting because, of course, she crosses over to Ironwood’s end of the table.

Now, this is not a friendly moment. She’s standing over him, she’s pissed to hell, she’s challenging him, yes...

But she still got up and moved to his end of the table. Not at all metaphorically, she’s crossing the aisle. That’s something the Council won’t do--they’ve set themselves up on opposite ends of a long expanse, three against one, forcing him to defend himself at arm’s length.

Whereas Robyn leaves her seat and walks up to him. She’s standing over him and not backing down...but she’s also holding out a hand and asking him to take it. She’s angry, she’s no longer asking nicely with so much on the line--but a handshake is a pretty universal gesture of good faith. She’s angry, but she is not framed as his enemy.

And because of that...

...she’s no longer even slightly aligned with Jacques’ faction, when Weiss bursts through the doors. Even before the really damning part, Robyn is framed well within Ironwood’s supporters the moment that tape starts to play.

(Two interesting things about this shot. It, and the visual confirmation of Robyn’s loyalties at the moment, come directly after the line “I’d lay off every worker in Mantle if I wasn’t trying to get their damn votes”. Robyn knows what kind of man Jacques Schnee is. She was focused on trying to hold Ironwood accountable for his very real failures, when the meeting started--that was all it ever was supposed to be about. But she is solidly against Jacques, and we’re reminded of that when he shows his casual disregard for the lives of her people.)

(The second interesting thing--Winter is framed at James’ right hand, as always. Clover serves as a bracket, tucking Robyn inside the group and not on the fringes. Penny is still back flanking the door, dressed in a gentle, muted green--just like Robyn, who is also well behind Ironwood, matching her. Once again--the protectors of Mantle.)

This is about Robyn but I will also note--as Weiss plays that tape and the Council realizes what’s going on, Ironwood crosses to their end of the table. They’re on the same side, and they’re beginning to understand that. And it’s Ironwood who moves. They don’t back away in horror; he gets up, leaves his entourage, and crosses to stand with them in the face of a threat to the kingdom.

And isn’t THIS shit interesting. Everyone standing around Jacques--Winter, in a form of cosmic mockery, is at his right hand, within arm’s reach to stop him. And the others...are Council members (and Clover). She’s not QUITE being framed as the legitimate fourth member of the Council, because there are periphery positions like head of AceOps and Ironwood’s special operative there. But she’s close and getting closer.

And she and Clover ARE directly mirroring the ACTUAL Council members.

this is ALSO a great shot. It comes right after “I only wanted to win the election” which. “Win” is a hell of a word there, you piece of shit. But framing Robyn between an excuse-making Jacques and a coldly furious Ironwood is a really interesting choice. She’s off to the side here; the main power struggle is between the two men.

But Robyn is, in this part of the conversation--the one about the election tampering specifically--the one who was wronged. Her, and the people of Mantle who had their voices stolen from them. That’s being sidelined in the interests of nailing down the details of Jacques’ betrayal, and it’s right that she makes her presence known.

And then she throws a chair. That’s got very little to do with her framing in space, it’s just very valid of her. She flipped her fucking melon and she’s entirely justified in doing so.

And then we learn that the heading grid has been shut down.

Everyone looks at each other in horror, of course; Ironwood is so overwhelmed he backs up and turns away, leaning against the table.

Robyn alone walks toward the window and presses her hand against it, looking out over Mantle. She’s not a fool; she knows she’s where she needs to be, that it’s important she be in this room to help. But that wasn’t a panicked “wait what let me see” reaction, either. it was slow, almost in a daze but not quite.

She’s where she needs to be, but she is not where every bone in her body wants to be.

They all care. Even the Council that consistently fails to prioritize Mantle is clearly horrified and desperate to help in this situation. But Robyn is different. (Interestingly, Ruby is the one we see noticing where Robyn’s head is and following her line of sight. Ruby’s also the first one to step forward and start galvanizing people.)

The only thing that snaps Robyn out of staring down at her dying home is hearing the word “Amity”. 

That is what turns her back toward the room--again, slowly, and only because trying to keep Ironwood in her line of sight physically pulls her body in a circle and away from the window.

At that point she VERY deliberately turns away from the immediate plight of Mantle--despite its near-gravitational pull on her in previous scenes--and advances into his space again. She’s remembered why they were there in the first place.

And again, yes, she’s getting in his face very literally. She’s advancing on him, which is a threatening, dominant move. And...she’s also moving toward him. Crossing the gulf of trust conveniently represented by Team RWBY And Also Penny Polendina over there, all of whom are already in on the secret.

I mean, look at this framing. She is, again, challenging him. They’re literally chest to chest.

But at the same time? This is the first time she’s spoken to him since her first appearance when she hasn’t been angry. Her body language, her advance, her positioning in space are antagonistic and challenging...but her voice is softer this time. She’s challenging him--but not as an adversary. As an ally, urging him to have courage. She’s verbally affirming that she thinks she was wrong about his motivations before, and that she believes he’s trying to protect people on a large scale.

And then they’re interrupted--but her intentions, just due to her framing in space, are pretty clear. That was a challenge, yes, but a challenge in the form of a clarion call. An offer to meet in the middle--no test this time.

And then I LOWKEY LOSE MY MIND OVER THIS SHOT.

First things first--Robyn and Ironwood standing side by side. Receiving a briefing on the Grimm situation in Mantle together.

And also, the color symbolism. Clover is on Ironwood’s side, in his color palate. Ice tones with scarlet highlights. The Secret Police ([weak rimshot]). And Oscar, who has Ozpin’s memories now, who represents a burning desire for honesty and faith--aligned with Robyn, and again, wearing her colors.

Don’t think I don’t notice that before this, the AceOps canonically were only ever really in Mantle to act in ATLAS’ best interests. They nailed the gang because they were investigating a stolen airship, not in response to the Grimm; Pietro is actually shocked that they’re down there. Don’t think I don’t notice that when Clover runs up to report on the situation down there, he’s accompanied by Oscar wearing lincoln green muted earth tones.

Seriously though is there anyone ELSE who’d like to symbolically mirror Robyn’s colors and their association with truth, good faith, and protecting Mantle?

And, in a moment of despair, Ironwood...walks away from her.

Nothing symbolic here, no sir.

And then, this, this shot I love:

Clover--a military man, the head of the AceOps--of course begins insisting that they need ground support, putting together a plan to get the Grimm under control. And that’s good, that’s what he should be doing! But Robyn--

LITERALLY edges her way into the shot in front of him, FORCING herself into focus to change the priorities of the mission. She reminds everyone of the real priority--keeping the citizens of Mantle safe. And she is NOT playing coy about it.

I just. She literally forces her way into the shot and blocks the camera because she disagrees with Clover and I’m in love with this woman.

And of course, the final shot we see of Robyn--after she’s been explicitly brought into the circle of People Who Know About Salem (because she is, after all, probably legally a councilwoman now even if it’s not official yet).

Alone again. The other two are talking it over and Robyn is almost directly in the middle of them and Ironwood, holding herself, having JUST A LITTLE BIT of processing to do. And looking off toward the closed door, where Ironwood is getting his briefing from Oscar. Unclear exactly what’s going through her head.

But right now, here, in this hallway in the Schnee Manor, she’s going through it alone.

[demiromantic-official]

Carnival of Aros July 2020

I haven’t participated in one of these before, but since music is quite important to me, I decided that this one I would write about. 

My View as a Consumer

Now I feel that I’m bit different than most arospecs, especially in my relationship to music. I don’t have a problem with songs about love, though I do dislike most of those sappy, cliché ones like those played on the pop stations. However as a musician, lyrics are not the only things I think of when deciding whether I like a song, which also may make my view a bit different than others. 

Mostly I listen to new wave / post punk from the ‘80s, and those songs  reflected the depressing and tumultuous emotions of the era. They explored themes like depression, hopelessness, fascism, the Cold War, threat of nuclear destruction, longing, disconnect, stardom, politics, WWII, addiction, war, humans relationship with technology, religious guilt, commercialism, and many others that are clearly not love but which also doesn’t have a clear meaning to me.  Or maybe they weren’t meant to have a meaning, like the songwriters of New Order claim about their songs.

When it does come to the love songs, I don’t feel the revulsion or disconnect that many arospecs seem to feel. I do dislike many of the vapid meaningless ones that are found on the pop stations (like Ed Sheeran etc), but most of the ones I listen to, I’m not sure if I would call them love songs. Maybe I’m being naïve, but even though I know the songwriter was thinking about someone they loved when writing it, the lyrics that have a deeper meaning than “i saw this hot girl and i wish we would date”, and are therefore interesting to me. Rather the feelings are described in such a way that it could be about a close friend, or someone that means a lot, without even stretching. They seem more about the human experience and interconnectedness, rather than purely romance. Even though I don’t experience romantic attraction, I like songs that delve deep into the human experience, about longing and fear and death and brokenness and other profound emotions. There’s a reason that era of music was sometimes described as “the new romantic”. Take “Lovesong” by the Cure for example. 

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Now it’s no secret that Robert Smith wrote it about his wife whom he had been with for years, but I also think it describes something about the human experience that most people can relate to: being a broken and hurt person, but having people in your life that make you feel safe, make you not think so much about your brokenness. And that’s part of my aromantic experience, I think. That I don’t listen to songs with a “love filter”, but rather I think about what the song says about the human experience, about the deeper emotions that most people are afraid to talk about. It’s the same with his song “Disintegration”. Even though the song alludes to being about losing a partner, it’s much more than that. It’s (according to interviews, but also my own interpretation) about depression and drug addiction and having such a bleak view on life that you don’t see the possibility of being whole again. The poetry in it is stunning. I’ve never heard a song that better describes what it feels like to go through a trauma and to be in so much pain that you don’t know you can survive much longer, or that in his words:

through the eye of a needle, 

it’s easier for me to get closer to heaven than ever be whole again.

I guess what I’ve been trying to describe is that as an arospec person, I don’t seek out traditional love songs, but I like the kinds that mention love, that maybe have love as a theme, but which aren’t entirely about it, those which have much deeper themes that describe other aspects of the human experience that maybe most people are afraid to touch on. I’ve related a lot of such songs, or songs about a failing relationship / losing a lover that do not explicitly mention it being about a partner, to being about other situations in my own life, such as losing a friend. Or platonic love, in general. 

I don’t think there are any songs I’ve related to being aromantic in particular; I’ve had an easier time relating songs to asexuality (like some Smiths songs, such as Pretty Girls Make Graves, can relate to asexuality since Morrissey viewed himself as such). Nevertheless, I still feel that music has been able to describe my range of experiences, and I’ve never felt excluded or underrepresented. 

If one wanted to be coy, though, I could name the song “Shot by Both Sides” by Magazine as one to which I could add an aromantic meaning. It’s meant to be about having a political view that leaves one “shot by both sides”, which one can say a lot about even today, when the loudest voices are extremists and having a nuanced opinion leaves many people hated by both majorities, but I won’t go into that on this blog. However sometimes it sadly feel like the aro experience...Straight people don’t accept us because we aren’t straight enough, because we’re cold people who don’t know love (in their eyes). And LGBT+ people don’t like us because we can “pass” as straight. I know not all people feel this and outside of the occasional hateful ask and mutual making a “aro and aces don’t belong in the community post” “haha all these asks trying to convince me otherwise are funny you’re not gonna convince me”, I’ve not experienced anything like this firsthand. But the sentiment is there.

My View as a Songwriter

When I write songs, I try to keep this same energy of the earlier songs I mentioned. That is, if the song is about a person or being hurt by a person, I try to make it in such a way that multiple interpretations are valid. It could be about a friend, or it could be someone else. I focus on the feelings, or even on topics that are not about interhuman connections. 

I don’t necessarily think that songwriters should be expected to be inclusive of the community, like the promptings asked. Unlike movies/shows, songs can be highly personal and typically express some emotion, experience, social commentary, or opinion that the person has, and I feel there’s an extent to which you can tell someone how to make their art (not giving spotlight to people who sing about rape/pedophilia/racism in a way that’s not satire and not social commentary or a demand for change is one exception I stand by 100%). With movies and books it’s different, because then you’re telling a story and fantasy or not, stories should contain myriads of experiences because they are almost always a reflection of the outer world in at least a small way. 

I think it’s a lot easier to be inclusive of the trans or gay community, by changing lines slightly to be vague about the genders of the people involved, which is something Pete Shelley from the Buzzcocks did to make his music accessible for people no matter their gender or what gender they liked. And it can be done without changing the meaning. 

That being said, as an artist I can recommend the following actions:

Reach out to your favorite artists! I know a lot might not answer especially if they are well-known, and fan mail doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, but it’s a good try. Bringing up the Smiths again, I remember an interview talking about Hand in Glove (one of their many songs that have a reference to homosexuality), in which songwriters Morrissey and Johnny basically talked about being inclusive with the song. Even when they were playing cover songs, they didn’t have a problem playing a song but a girl pop group about wanting a boy. Based on his bio, I know Johnny is likely not LGBT, but is a wonderful ally. I say this to point out that if you show how important being included is, the artist may just do something similar.

Maybe try different out artists/genres? This doesn’t solve the problem of being included, but I see a lot of arospecs claim most music is about romantic love...and as someone who sees themselves as well-versed in music...it’s really not? Maybe it’s because almost all my music is alternative and because I used to listen to a lot of punk which often is social commentary and calls for change, but in my experience of listening I’ve heard a wide range of experiences and parts of humanity expressed, evening disregarding the songs that are ambiguous about whether they are about romantic love or other love. Even popular artists like Radiohead and Nirvana have many songs with different topics than love. Sure, the topic of love may be represented than any single other topic alone, but combined the other number of songs on other topics are great too.

Support aromantic artists (or artists who sing about topics you relate to). Artists need support to keep making music, so support the ones who include you. And who knows, maybe more aromantic artists will start singing about their experiences as support grows.

[rosalind-of-arden]

Smoke and Iron Reread chapter 26-27

We finally have Jess in the same room as Wolfe and Santi again! Now we just need to get the poor boy in the same place as Morgan for once. Here comes more trauma!

If I’ve got the timeline right, Khalila’s group has been in Alexandria for at least a week by now, maybe more like two weeks. Jess is in contact with the Spanish ambassador, but hasn’t heard anything about them. Alvaro is playing his cards very close.

Jess asks “Where was the duty and honor in what had just happened?” So are these values taught to all High Garda? The training program doesn’t seem to be company-specific. They’re definitely values Santi holds, but there are other High Garda we’ve seen who aren’t sticking to them.

Wolfe’s condition as of this reunion with Jess: “His hair was a matted, graying mess, and he looked paler and more wild than Jess had ever seen him, but it was Scholar Wolfe. Bruised, and from the look in his eyes, half-mad, but alive.” He also looks weak. First of all, that hair has to be driving him nuts. And he has visible bruises (assuming on his face, since he’s clothed... or is he? Jess doesn’t say. Dammit, Jess), so he’s been treated roughly by the guards and/or Artifex/Archivist, at a bare minimum. A quick round of some form of torture that wouldn’t be too physically incapacitating isn’t out of the question. His mental state is bad enough that Jess can see his distress, which is saying something considering how determined he was to hide it when he left his cell.

The Archivist claims that nothing was done to Wolfe. Even putting aside the fact that just being in prison is fucking traumatic for Wolfe, even disregarding the inhumane prison conditions, Wolfe has bruises that he didn’t have before. Something happened.

The Archivist is also an overly familiar dick who calls Wolfe by his first name.

Wolfe’s voice is “rusty and hollow and haunted.” He begins with a sentence fragment. Not good signs, there. Also, note that he does not suggest that Jess left him out of the plan because he would refuse to participate himself. He asks if Jess left him out because he wouldn’t let Jess do something so risky. Such. A. Dad.

Poor Neska. Here’s the Archivist again throwing away talented and intelligent people in his paranoia.

Wolfe’s silence as resistance: He says nothing at all to the Archivist, and Jess finds that frightening.

Once they’re away from the Archivist, Wolfe’s first words to Jess are to tell him to give his newly traumatized brother space. Immediately after that, he asks about Santi. Jess can’t even let him finish that sentence.

Jess doesn’t know how Santi is? Time for Wolfe to break out the defensive snark.

Wolfe doesn’t bother to correct Jess’s assumptions about how he and Santi would have responded to the plan. He also doesn’t want Jess’s apology. He needs to focus on making escape plans. He’s not going to be able to stay sane otherwise. Jess is right that Wolfe isn’t “broken to his core”, but Wolfe is more fragile than he wants to let on.

Wolfe knows when something unexpected has happened. He doesn’t know it’s a rescue, but he does recognize the opportunity that this unplanned stop could represent. More focus on action.

Barricades and checkpoints have become so commonplace and routine in Alexandria that Santi’s troops can use them to spring this ambush without the Elites suspecting anything. Regular High Garda vs Elite rivalry probably also helps. The Archivist set himself up to lose his valuable prisoners this way.

“Damn your soul to the crocodiles.” Nice colorful language there.

Cleaning barracks toilets must be a common High Garda punishment.

Troll is a good actor.

Santi’s company steals chemical weapons technology from the Burners. Just how long ago was “a while ago”? This seems like the sort of thing Wolfe might have helped with. Give him a sample, have him work out how to duplicate it.

Naturally, the first thing Wolfe asks about is Santi. He says “Nic” with these soldiers, not “Santi.” A sign that these guys are friends, not just employees, to Santi? And Botha doesn’t even wait for him to finish the sentence, either. He reassures him right away. Everyone knows how important this is to Wolfe.

And poor Wolfe immediately goes from being worried about Santi to being worried about Santi seeing him in such bad shape. “But he’s seen me far worse.” So there’s how this compares to post-Rome Wolfe.

The Spanish embassy has space for military storage, large enough for at least five troop carriers. Is this normal? A sign the Spanish have been plotting?

Glain is wearing a High Garda uniform. Santi isn’t. Interesting.

“Wolfe, who was staring motionless at Santi.” Do I suspect Wolfe is having a little moment of questioning whether this is real? Why yes, I do.

“Santi, who was moving straight for Wolfe, slowly, as if he couldn’t believe his lover wouldn’t vanish.” I don’t think Jess is reading Santi right here. Santi isn’t the one at risk of losing his grip on reality. Santi is, however, very aware of how bad of condition Wolfe might be in, and he wouldn’t want to startle him with sudden movement. He’s moving slowly to make sure Wolfe feels safe.

Still love Thomas insisting that Jess watch the Wolfe/Santi reunion.

Wolfe is shaking, Santi is right there to hold him and support them.

“The sound that he made came deep from his soul, a raw sound of relief that seemed to echo through the air.” So everyone complains about how writing romance with characters who use the same pronoun can make things annoyingly ambiguous. Now let’s talk about how it can be ambiguous in a good way. Look at this. We don’t know whether it’s Wolfe or Santi crying out in relief here. The first clause in that sentence uses both characters’ names, so no grammatical clue there. Jess might not know. It could be either of them, it could be both, and it doesn’t fucking matter. They are so relieved to be together again that we have temporarily blurred them together through pronoun use.

Here’s Santi assessing Wolfe’s health while he apologizes for not being with him. And here’s Wolfe assuring Santi that whether he was physically present or not, he was still, in a way, there. And then we get a kiss. Such delicious emotional payoff after watching them struggling without each other for most of the book.

You’ve all already read my speculation, in fic form, on why Santi is running off to Jess’s room instead of staying with Wolfe. Wolfe must have sent him on some errand, or asked him to go away long enough to squeeze a quick shower in, or something. Only other way I can see Santi leaving Wolfe alone would be if they got into a fight, but I’m not sure either of them would be inclined to bicker this soon after being reunited. Wolfe’s pretty annoyed when he catches Santi picking on Jess, and he’s still very quick to soften up.

So here’s Santi, stuck with nothing to do, full of trauma-inspired rage. He’s probably remembering how Wolfe was after Rome and worrying about how much trauma Wolfe is trying to hide now. There is nobody standing between him and Jess, unlike Dario, who had Khalila to stop Santi from coming after him. Santi needs to do something, and the most productive thing he can come up with is taking revenge on the one he blames for Wolfe being hurt.

Calm Santi is scary Santi. Especially when he’s got a hand on your throat.

Santi still suspects Dario came up with the plan. Dario is damn lucky that Santi respects Khalila and has been busy enough with their plans not to come after him.

Jess very likely saves his own life by not fighting back. In Santi’s mind, when he attacks Jess, he’s seeing Jess as a threat. That’s not rational - it’s entirely a response to seeing Wolfe hurt - but it’s how he sees Jess. Thus the immediate and vicious attack. Jess failing to behave as a threat is what shakes Santi out of treating him as one. His core values won’t let him kill a helpless victim. When he starts to think rationally, he’s shocked by his own behavior, but then Jess starts to talk, and Santi starts seeing him as a threat again, but this time he has enough control to respond only verbally. It’s not until he starts thinking about how Wolfe would not appreciate his overprotectiveness that he really calms down.

What bothers Santi most? That Wolfe would have been alone. The idea of Wolfe going through more trauma alone and/or dying alone really upsets him.

If there was a Wolfe/Santi fight before this scene, I suspect it was about this idea of Santi’s that he should send Wolfe away to somewhere safe. Wolfe would obviously not have been at all impressed with that idea.

Here are Santi’s controlling tendencies rearing up in response to trauma. “I want to send him out of here, away from all this, and never let him come back.” “Let him”, really Santi? But he immediately admits that of course Wolfe would refuse to be controlled.

Also interesting: Santi wants to send Wolfe away. Not take him. Santi is at this point fully committed to reforming the Library. I suspect he’s realized that Wolfe can never really be safe while the current Curia remain in power.

I do appreciate the way that Santi, when he recognizes he’s fucked up, owns up to it and apologizes. That’s a good example for the kids.

Santi and Jess put their differences aside and agree on protecting Wolfe. Wolfe is not impressed. And Santi knows right away that he’s in trouble. Doesn’t get him out of the lecture.

How much did it help Wolfe just to be able to clean up right after getting out of prison? How much is he connecting this time to his memories of Santi helping him bathe last time?

This whole Wolfe lecture is delightful, both the prickly beginning and the softer conclusion. And Wolfe’s got this in him when he’s barely able to stand.

Wolfe vs. Santi. Round wtf is it now, 12? Obvious winner is Wolfe. Score’s up to 7-3, Wolfe is the lead.

How do we know Wolfe has really adopted Jess? Here he is letting Jess see him sink into Santi’s arms. He’s letting Jess see him being both weak and affectionate.

Look at the difference in Wolfe and Santi in how they react to “a broken bone heals twice as strong.” Wolfe used it as a mantra to comfort himself, and tries to comfort Santi with it here. Santi laughs when he hears it, but his laugh “sounded unsteady and half-desperate.” Remembering that first night comforts Wolfe, but it triggers Santi. That night was the beginning of recovery for Wolfe, but it was traumatic for Santi.

Memories, also. Santi: “I remember everything. That’s the curse of it.” Wolfe: “That’s the beauty of it.” Santi definitely finds those memories of Wolfe’s return traumatic. A lot of ways we can read Wolfe’s statement there. He may just be pointing out that it’s a good thing that Santi even has all of his memories; Wolfe might not have recovered all of his, even with the mesmer. He might be talking specifically about the night of their reunion after Rome, which he just referred to. It’s a beautiful, comforting memory for him. It’s not for Santi. Wolfe might also be recognizing that there is value even in traumatic memories. Obviously, he hasn’t reached the point of accepting all of his yet: he’s still actively repressing some as of his next chapter. But he’s decided that kind of acceptance is something to aspire to.

Glain gets the best lines. To Jess and Dario: “Stop squabbling about the size of your-” Sadly, Khalila interrupts.

Santi has already gathered his company and started recruiting other High Garda allies.

[wisdomrays]

CONSULTATION: Part-3

It would be useful to recap the points of what forms the basis of consultation.

1. Consultation is a right for both the ruling and the ruled; and in exercising that right neither has preference, priority, or superiority over the other. In the verse who conduct their affairs by mutual consultation (Shura 42:38), the Qur'an indicates that both sides, the ruling and the ruled, have equal status: as all the work related to the Muslims concerns every individual and the whole community, the rights of the ruler and the ruled are accepted as being equal. However, the right may vary according to time, place, and conditions, and thus the way to conduct consultation may vary.

2. As a consequence of the verse, consult them in the affairs (Al 'Imran 3:159), it is incumbent on the ruler or administrator to bring the matter on which consultation is required to the attention of those of sound judgment, otherwise he will be held responsible. The ruled are responsible for expressing their views when they are asked to. However, if the ruled do not express their views when asked to, then they are equally accountable. In fact, they are considered not to have fulfilled the duty of citizenship if they are not determined to be heard when their views are being taken, and still more if they neglect to voice their views and opinions.

3. Performing consultation for the pleasure of God and the benefit of the Muslims, and not allowing the line of thought of the consultative committee to be affected or deflected by bribery, threats, or oppression are essential. God's Messenger said: "One who is consulted is a man of trust; one who is consulted about a matter must express his view as if he were deciding for himself."

4. There may not be always unanimity (ijma') in consultation. However, in a case where there is no general concurrence or consensus of opinion and decision amongst those present, the decision is taken and people act according to the opinion and conviction of the majority. According to God's Messenger, the majority is considered to represent full agreement:

God's hand is with the community.

My people do not unite around deviation.

I asked God not to let my people unite on deviation, and He accepted my wish.

In these hadiths, we are reminded that the majority view is as powerful as unanimity and we must apply and abide by the decision of the majority. We can relate many examples of this from the Prophet's own life, and in short we can say that the consultations at the beginning and the end of the battles of Badr and Uhud were carried out in this way.

5. Whether concluded by unanimity or by the majority, as long as consultation is conducted by the rules, in conformity with the principles of consultation, it is then no longer permissible to disagree with or oppose the decisions taken, or to propose alternative ideas. To continue to air views against the decision taken with words such as "[but] I suggested a different and sounder view" or "[but] I already made a remark or comment in opposition" leads only to defeat, and is nothing less than a sin. God's Messenger went to Uhud in compliance with the view of the majority, though it was against his own judgment (ijtihad); after the battle, he did not say or make any remark concerning the view of the majority, its cause, and the aftermath, even though their view had been erroneous. Moreover, the Qur'an indicated that the zalla (lapse, slip) of the muqarrabin (the close ones) which was committed during the preparation for Uhud could be questioned.

6. Consultation is concerned with resolving existing problems. It does not call for conjectural decisions related to hypothetical events. In any case, Islamic life is already continuing in the light of divine decrees. As to the events which occur outside that frame or as to other plans and projects that must be fully realized, each and every plan or event, by taking its particularity into full account should be resolved by itself, within itself, and according to its own manner of taking place.

7. The consultative committee convenes when the need arises and continues to work until the problems have been resolved, and the plans and projects finalized. As there is no divine decree that it should convene at regular intervals, so is there no indication that it should be composed of salaried or paid individuals; the practice of the Prophet and the first four Caliphs constitute the parameters in this respect, we are not concerned with the practices of the following periods. As a matter of fact, the execution of consultation by salaried people or officials causes many problems and complications along with it.

We have to touch on the question of the people with whom we can consult. As it is impossible to bring all the people of a country together and to conduct a consultation in this way, then it must be done with a cadre of a limited number of people. Moreover, since the matters presented for deliberation require a great degree of knowledge, experience, and expertise, a consultation committee must comprise people who are distinguished for such qualities. This can only be a committee of people of high caliber, who are able to resolve many matters. Especially today, as life has become more intricate and complicated, as the world has globalized, and every problem has become an allencompassing, planetary problem, it is vital that those competent in natural sciences, engineering, and technology, which are most of the time considered to be good and proper by Muslims, should participate alongside those men of high caliber who know Islamic essence, reality, spirit, and sciences. Consultation can be carried out with qualified people from the different worldly sciences, knowledge, and other required fields, insofar as decisions taken are supervised by the religious authorities for the compatibility or accord of what they suggest with Islam. As consultation is in itself left to this committee, the prescription of the way of performing it in accordance with different times, circumstances, and states of affairs also falls within their scope. Throughout history, it is possible to see differences in the performance and application of consultation corresponding to the different eras and particular circumstances. Sometimes in small circles or among small groups, and sometimes in wide circles or among larger groups, sometimes among civilians, and sometimes by opening its gates to the sciences and the military, the understanding of consultation itself has exhibited quite considerable change and differences. However, this is not because it is a rule subject to being changed, but because of its flexibility and the universality of its practicability in every age and era.

According to different circumstances and eras, the conduct and the composition of the consultative committee might change, but the qualifications and the attributes of those select people, such as people from knowledge, justice, social education and experience, wisdom, and sagacity, must never change. Justice means fulfilling all compulsory duties, but avoiding all that are forbidden and nothing contrary to human values should be done; knowledge comprises religious, administrative, political, and scientific expertise. Each individual does not have to be an expert in all the various branches of the sciences. However, the committee and the collective mind should be receptive to all the above-mentioned expertise. When good manners, experience, and social education lie at the root of the matter, the views and perspectives of experienced people are taken, even if they are not from the scientific community. Wisdom is knowledge, mildness, in a way, the essence of the Prophethood, and cognizance of what is behind the veiled reality of natural phenomena. It is seen as the knowledge which allows people to perceive with the light of sagacity and intuition and to understand what is closed to the common man, giving them the talents, abilities, and intelligence to resolve individual and social or collective problems. Wisdom is recognized as an attribute which is of very high value, but which is possessed by very few.

The importance the Messenger of God attached to consultation and his respect for the opinions of the old, the young, and people of different social ranks requires a full and separate treatment. However, within the scope of this article we will touch upon a few examples. He always consulted and listened to the views of others, took them seriously, and tried to establish all the alternative plans and projects on firm grounds. He proved how highly he regarded consultation by sometimes revealing his opinion one by one to individuals with sound opinion and judgment, and sometimes by bringing all those people together, and then basing the decision on a collective view:

1. On the occasion of the slander against his wife Aisha ('ifq) the Messenger of God consulted several of his Companions, namely 'Ali, 'Umar, Zaynab bint-i Jahsh, and Barira. 'Ali expressed the opinion that God's Messenger should ignore his worries and disregard the baseless slanders; 'Umar, Zaynab, Barira and many highly esteemed others stated that they believed Aisha to be chaste, exalted, and purified of such calumnies. Although the chain of narrators is not considered strong, a conversation is reported between 'Umar and God's Messenger when he asked 'Umar's opinion about the event. 'Umar said: "One day, while you were leading the congregation- al prayer, you took off your slippers and pushed them aside. When we asked the reason for it, you replied that something impure had smudged your slippers and the Archangel Gabriel came and informed you of it and asked you to take off your slippers. Now, if something had happened and blemished the good name of your wife, would God not have informed you of it?' Even though the authenticity of this conversation is not held to be high by some scholars of hadith, the lesson from it in respect of taking counsel is quite important.

2. Before setting out for the Battle of Badr, God's Messenger consulted the Muhajirun and Ansar. Miqdad, on behalf of the Muhajirun and Sa'd ibn Muadh on behalf of the Ansar expressed similar views overflowing with faith, submission, and enthusiasm, which agreed with, confirmed, and supported the view of God's Messenger, thus serving to convince their tribes and the community present there that they should fulfill the decisions taken. As can be seen from that occasion, the Prophet always had such vital decisions taken and adopted by the community as a whole, and proceeded toward the target by having the public opinion along with him.

3. Again in preparation for the Battle of Badr, the Messenger of God took the counsel of Companions such as Khubab ibn Munzir about the positions and the fields of battle where the army of Islam would be deployed, and decided on and used strategies in line with these suggestions. The Muslims then defeated an army three times as great as their own and returned to Madina singing songs of victory.

4. During the Battle of the Trench (Ahzab), his willingness to heed and comply with the suggestion of Salman al-Farisi that the Muslims should dig ditches around the spots where the enemy was likely to try to infiltrate Madina is another example of how God's Messenger attached importance to consultation.

5. During the negotiation of the Peace Treaty of Hudaybiya, God's Messenger again consulted his Companions. After taking the views of all the Muslims, he consulted with his wife, our mother Umm Salama, not neglecting or ignoring her opinions, assessed the views and the personal inclinations of the Companions, then decided on a way and strategy which turned potentially complete defeat, complete failure, into a clear victory, and came back to Madina having saved the lives and souls of many.

When we look into the life of God's Messenger closely, we see that every matter, affair, or problem on which a Divine Revelation was not sent was conducted by consultation, presented to and adopted by the collective conscience, and then the decision was put into practice or executed. Thus the councils of consultation that we see in the various Islamic states throughout history are nothing more or less than a simple continuation of the first consultation and the council that we see in the Prophet's model.

[digihive99]

Why You Need a Social Media Strategy to Skyrocket Your Business

First, we should respond to the inquiry, "What is an online social media strategy?"

An online social media strategy characterizes how your association will utilize online life to accomplish its communication goals and the devices it will use to accomplish this. At a fundamental dimension it's a straightforward proclamation of expectation, laying out the objectives and quantifiable destinations for utilizing online life, and the objective results you need to accomplish. It does this with regards to the general business and common plan so online life isn't in a storehouse however working in parallel with different channels. Is anything but a nitty-gritty game plan – you'll additionally require an arrangement yet without an unmistakable methodology, how would you organize the exercises for an arrangement? Think strategy first, plan second.

Regardless of whether you're not effectively engaged with web-based life, different organizations are, including your rivals and doubtlessly a huge extent of your clients. Neglecting to comprehend this is the place numerous individuals hold discussions means you're not part of the dialog, and you can't impact what occurs.

On the off chance that you don't have a clue about what's being stated, in what capacity can you successfully deal with your brand reputation on social media? What's more, how might you guarantee that your key messages are being heard by the general population you most need to converse with?

1. The social web still is developing rapidly

 The most recent research via online networking media use demonstrates that there are two key components driving the social web as per a Global Web Index think about:

 1. Versatile – individuals getting to the web by means of mobile phones expanded by 60.3% to 818.4m somewhere in the range of 2012 and 2014

 2. More seasoned client reception – on Twitter the 55-65 year age section is the quickest developing statistic with 79% development rate since 2012; the quickest developing statistic on Facebook and Google+ is the 45-55 year age section.

 As individuals invest more energy in online life, devouring more substance than any time in recent memory, you may believe that space is flooded so and creating an impact there is essential.

 Making a focused social media strategy will enable you to concentrate on utilizing important stages to associate with existing and new clients and stay away from the herd mentality.

  2. Buying choices are affected by Social Media presentation

 At the initial phase of social media furor, it was a group of spectators building and commitment, the present time is centered around trade and personalization. Every social stage has vigorously put resources into their publicizing answers to draw advertisers with the guarantee of improved APIs and intelligently focusing on, and including the capacity to transfer email records to run customized remarketing efforts.

 For instance, through the Facebook API advertisers can:

 ·  Oversee crowd information for the custom group of spectators

 ·   Design targeted campaigns and promotions

 ·  Construct custom dashboards and run analytics for modification of           campaigns

 ·   Oversee social media campaign resources: pages, accounts, etc.

 Research from Crowdtap uncovered that 64% of 3,000 individuals overviewed utilize social to discover motivation for shopping (up 51% versus earlier year). This is driven by retailers focusing on buyers with customized offers and arrangements on social networks.

 Almost half (46%) of online social media clients are as of now utilizing social stages while considering making a buy. 40% of clients are effectively choosing what to purchase dependent on what they have seen via online networking media stages, including reviews and suggestions, and this is just set to develop.

 There are unpretentious contrasts between the job every social network plays in the buying cycle. For instance, Pinterest is an incredible spot for individuals to discover motivation and functions admirably as a visual item storyboard. Facebook is appropriate to individuals hoping to share substance and discover advancements.

 Without a reasonable strategy, how would you know what job these social media can and should play in your clients' purchasing cycles? How would you know you're not missing out on potential deals, or attempting to offer to individuals why should looking be offered to?

  3. Absence of strategy hands the preferred position to contenders

 It's phenomenal to discover an organization without a social presence and progressively organizations are growing clear social strategies lined up with business objectives.

 An advertiser with a methodology has a system through which to design, organize, execute, measure and enhance. This commonly will prompt better outcomes in light of the fact that the action has born, regardless of whether the course needs to advance and change as the advertiser gains from genuine information.

 If you put resources into a social presence campaign without a foolproof plan, you won't know whether your campaigns are fruitful or not. For instance, in the event that you just post content, how would you realize that the activity is adding to the business emphatically? Imagine a scenario in which it's really putting individuals off your brand.

 I once sat in a gathering where a marketing executive provided details regarding social execution and was pleased that a tweet got more than 100 RTs throughout the end of the week. The group concluded this was a triumph. In any case, after looking into it further, the tweet incorporated an inadequately picked hashtag and the hashtag's and this produced the RT movement. Tragically, the main hashtag users weren't significant and unquestionably not an intended interest group.

 With no organized way to deal with correspondence and estimation, you hazard squandering asset on undirected action. In the interim, savvier contenders will work more astutely at drawing in clients dependent on clear objectives, destinations, and targets so execution is being estimated, instead of results detailed.

  4. Your clients are active online networking media

 Mobile, social and basic innovation have consolidated to give a situation in which individuals can access, use and offer data on their terms. Companions of mine infrequently perused websites or messages; they use Facebook as their primary stream. The disintermediation of content implies that you need to comprehend the job social plays in client correspondence.

 Despite the fact that it's just a subset of your complete group of spectators, almost certainly, a portion of your clients will need to get data from you through an informal social network. A genuine model is the ascent of Twitter for client administration, with brands like BT holding onto it as a successful client request and issue goals channel. That doesn't mean disregard conventional types of client administration, it means refreshing your client administration structure to factor in social communications.

 This is the reason you need a strategy. Choosing how to associate with a client is certifiably not a strategic choice, it requires key reasoning. Social needs have to line up with the other correspondence channels so its job is characterized and comprehended, and there are strategies and instruments set up to adapt to request. On the off chance that you let a social marketing team to essentially continue ahead with it, without the key vision above it, you hazard futility and error.

5. There are key influencers in each informal community

 For a considerable length of time retailers have realized that client appraisals and reviews can expand conversion rates through the intensity of influencer impact. Master support additionally expands brand believability. For instance, in profoundly concentrated tech markets like broad media, the specialists' suppositions are very looked for after and can represent the moment of truth items.

 Internet-based life channels have influencers, from the undeniable famous people to independent social stars like video bloggers. High road retailers frequently utilize inclining influencers to enhance their showcasing messages.

  6. Manage your Brand Reputation

 There are beneficial things that we can credit to internet-based life, essentially as far as giving a voice to individuals and groups who recently attempted to be heard and of making data straightforward and convenient.

[darryl-jacobson]

AU of an AU. 5k

Part one of who knows how much more

So Josie and I are doing an AU where L.E is evil and taking over the world. In this AU, Dale is six. I randomly thought what if Dale was older and 12 pages later... Putting it under a cut because it’s quite long.

The person who came to inform Dale that his parent was here and ready for him said it in such an odd way. As if they honestly thought the teenage boy had no idea The Great Representative was here. As if they could truly sneak in without pomp and circumstance. Everyone always knew when they were coming to visit days in advance so everyone had plenty of time to make sure The Great Representative only saw what the school wanted them to see.

Dale thanked the aid, checked his outfit and shoes again, waved goodbye to his friends and without waiting for the aid, started the very familiar walk toward the office set aside for Foreldri when they came to visit.

When he was a kid, these moments were stressful. Foreldri had always seemed like they were waiting for him to screw up and make a massive mistake, suspiciously watching for it to come. They went over everything he did with a fine-tooth comb, searching for any imperfections. But as the years passed and he continued to work as hard as possible to please them, they seemed to relax. A little bit. They still demanded the highest quality in everything he did, but now they didn’t seem worried that he might wreck everything any moment now.

Everyone always asked what it was like having an alien as a parent-especially one that had conquered and now ruled the entire world. He always didn’t know what to say, it was normal for him? If anyone asked a ton of questions, he would just ask them what it was like growing up with humans parents.  It wasn’t like he had known anything else.  People always thought it was weird or crazy, but it really wasn’t. Maybe if he had actually lived with them, it would have been different.

When Dale arrived outside the office, he knocked twice softly and opened the door when he heard the call for him to come in.

His parent was sitting inside, dressed in an expensive suit that stood out against their blue skin and horns that protruded from the top of their head, a massive stack of papers in front of them. Typical. Being The Great Representative that ruled the earth was a full time job. It wasn’t as if they ever got time off from it.

“Hi Fari.” Dale greeted them, using his childhood endearment for them. It had come from the fact saying Foreldri to them directly sounded so stiff and formal to use all the time. They hadn’t liked it but had agreed that he could call them that as long as it was just the two of them.

“Hello,” They answered standing up to come over and look at him. Their red eyes swept over his appearance, taking in his haircut, how neat and clean his clothes were, the level of shine on his shoes. The usual. All of this was something he expected and always prepared for. It was better to take five minutes doing that instead of listening to a lecture about the importance of personal grooming.

Without waiting for them to ask, Dale launched into a detailed account about what he had been learning about in school, covering each of his classes and what he was studying. While he was sure they got a report from the school about his grades, he knew how important it was for them to hear it first-hand from him. Since they were not part of his day-to-day life, this had to make up for that.

“-and then finally, I have a project due next week, to write an 8 page paper and then create a presentation about one person from history who made a massive impact or achievement during their lifetime.”

Foreldri’s expression gave away nothing of what they were thinking. “Who are you going to pick?”

“I dunno, I haven't decided yet.” He was sure that everyone was sure he would do his presentation about his extremely famous parent, but that seemed too easy and self-serving. Besides, it was what everyone expected him to do.

“I’m pleased you’re continuing to do well in school.” They said, turning to go back to their desk.

Dale tugged at his tie briefly, feeling like the conversation was rapidly coming to a close. “Yeah.” He said. “Do you remember when you taught me how to properly do a tie?”

It was one of his fondest memories with them. He had still been a little boy, nestled in their lap but they had patiently taken the time to make sure he knew how to properly tie it by himself. It stood out to him because they hadn’t seemed hurried or like they had ten thousand other things to do. It had taken him several tries, but he had finally gotten in right in the end and he remembered beaming up at them with joy over his accomplishment.

His parent only flicked their gaze toward him for a moment before returning to their papers. “Of course.”

It was such a small gesture, but Dale couldn’t help but feel disappointment burning in the bottom of his stomach. They spent so much time with their advisors and at work, toiling away at their never ending job. Just for once, he wished they put it all down and spend a few minutes talking to him. Actually talking to him.

He shifted his weight slightly. “Do you have time for a game of chess?” That was something they liked to do. They found it both educational and something of importance. If he was careful, he could stretch it longer then an hour.

To his surprise, they just shook their head. “Not tonight, maybe another time. You should probably get ready for bed.”

“Okay…” He said quietly before turning toward the door. “Good night.”

“Good night,” came the calm reply from behind. A huge part of him desperately hoped they would call him back but he didn’t hear anything else as he shut the door and walked down the hallway in the direction of his room.

His room was the one place where he felt like he didn’t have to put a face for the rest of the school. Everyone knew he was The Great Representative’s heir, that had been impossible for them to hide for so many years. They had tried, in the beginning, but they couldn’t keep making excuses for why they would come to visit him in particular. While the rest of the world had no idea that the alien who now ruled the earth had a human child hidden away at some boarding school in northern Canada, everyone here was aware.

That made it difficult for him sometimes. Dale always had to suspect every single person’s motivations when they tried to get close to him. Did this person truly want to be friends with him, or was there some hidden agenda and secret motivation behind everything they did.

Plus, everyone expected him to act a certain way. He couldn’t act out, do dumb stuff with the other kids his age. A bunch of boys had gotten in trouble for sneaking out at 3 am a few years ago and getting into trouble at the middle of the night. He had known that if he had been part of that group, he would of been judged harsher than the other kids.

Not to mention what Foreldri would of had to say about that. He had endured a lot of lectures about his future public image and their current public image even when he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. He didn’t want to think about what they would of been if he had gone and embarrassed them on purpose.

His room was neat, clean and boring. Very few personal touches. It felt like a transition, something that wasn’t permanent. Just a temporary place for him to sleep, at least until the next phase of his life started.

And what a life it would be.  Foreldri still hadn’t announced he was their heir yet, but they had given reassurance that they knew what they were doing. He was 15 years old and still needed to finish school first, to learn strategy and diplomacy and leadership but they were pleased with him.

Or at least he thought so, with as much as they’d let on.

With a huff, Dale kicked off his shoes, removed his tie and sweater and sat down at his desk. With his parent here, there was a chance they would want to see his homework in the morning and he had no plans on disappointing them with mediocre work.

Or, at least, that was a plan until he heard movement and a blue-horned alien popped out of his wardrobe.

For several seconds, Dale was so shocked, he didn’t know what to say. The alien looked expectantly confused as well, as if they expected him to dash over and leap into their arms.

“Fari- what are…” He stood up, trying to understand what they were doing, why they were wearing next to nothing and hiding in his closet. How they had even gotten in here without him knowing, or what all this was about.

“Fari?” They echoed.

Maybe it was the way they were standing, their body language, or how their voice was not the exact same as his parent’s. But as soon as the alien spoke, he knew it wasn’t his Foreldri.

It was the fake impostor.

When he was a child, he had heard stories about this person. A drunk idiot who thought it was a good idea to attempt to steal someone else’s identity. And that had been before Foreldri had become The Great Representative.

He gritted his teeth and thought back on everything Foreldri had taught him. His parent was the real Loki and there had been an impostor, one who clearly was the fake based on how they acted. A drunk, insane, piss-poor excuse of an imitation of themselves and their drunk, crazy wife. The fake Loki, when he was very small, had tried to take him away from his parent and claimed him as their own. As he got older, Foreldri has slowly began to reveal bits of what they had done. The fake Loki and his wife had been dangerous, recklessly putting his life in danger with their immaturity and complete disregard for how vulnerable toddlers were. That was part of the reason why they had hidden him away. To keep him safe from them.

He had seen them before, once, on TV. The entire world had. Foreldri was brilliant, uniting this planet under their competent rule, diligently working to reverse all the stupid and dangerous practices human’s had done to the planet. Until one day, near the end of their conquest, the fake Loki had shown their face and challenged his parent. And just their luck, news stations with cameras had been there to capture the whole thing.

It had been a short but bloody and brutal battle, enough that it had completely destroyed Manhattan, leaving only a crater behind. He had only been around seven years old, none of his teachers had let him or the other young students watch as the two of them fought each other. But he would never forget the relief when it was accounted the fake copy had been killed and his parent was victorious.

He hadn’t forgotten their next visit. It had been their first as the The Great Representative of the entire earth, they had looked tired but proud when he had come running to greet them, listening patiently as he repeated over and over how glad he was that the impostor hadn’t won.

When he was older, he had watched the infamous battle, but only when there was no chance his parent could have caught him. The fake version looked exactly like them. It was shocking to see, watching the footage of the two aliens viciously fighting with magic and ice blades.

Now, Dale just stared at the alien in front of him. Looking at them, he could see for himself. They were exactly as Foreldri had said they were, physically exactly the same. It was when he started to look closer, he could start to see little differences. It wasn’t just their voice, the way this person carried themselves was different. While his parent was calm and collected, they were a live wire of energy just waiting for the right spark.

“… Foreldri said you were dead…” He finally said.

The impostor have the nerve to smirk at him. As if that justified them sneaking into his room and accosting him. “Lesson one, they’re a lying piece of shit and you should probably jot that down. I’m the real Loki.”

“They’re a lying piece of shit?” Dale repeated, staring hard at them. “They told me that you used to fancy yourself as my mother?”

“I am-”

“Then you’re a terrible one! A wreckless, dangerous person who had no regard for anyone but themselves and constantly put me in danger, so much that my real parent had to smuggle me away to save my life?” He asked, his voice rising as anger glittered in his eyes.

“That firelicker was not trying to save your life, they stole you from me.” The fake answered.

Dale only glared at them. “Don’t lie to me, I know the truth. You’re a fake imposter.”

The fake Loki looked shocked. “Fake version?” They repeated. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Dale lifted his chin. “To try and harm me again? And that’s right. My parent is the real one, they destroyed your ass in battle and they’ll do it again.”

“I doubt that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Then we’ll tell them you are here and you’ll see. They are the real one and you are just a poor copy. But either way, you need to leave.” He spat at them, trying to make his feeling of disgust for who they were clear. “I don’t want you here, I’m not going anywhere with you, you’re not my mother or parent, or whatever. Just get out and leave me alone.”

The look of shock and helplessness on their stupid face made him feel better. Not what they expected? Good.

“.... Fine.” They finally said and vanished from sight.

Dale just rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid.” He announced to the seemingly empty room. “I know that trick, you’re still here.” He pointed at the door. “Get out.”

There was several moments of silence, before the door opened by itself and then shut again.

“I said, Get. Out.”

The fake Loki reappeared, as they had never actually left, but didn’t say anything. A short huff, before they opened the door again and this time actually left.

Dale just shook his head and went back to his homework, anger cooling in the pit of his stomach. Good riddance.

***

The next day, Dale couldn’t get what happened out of his head. Thankfully, it was the middle of the term and he did have that project, it wasn’t due until next week. He was thankful, because his mind kept wandering, especially in the middle of class.

The fake Loki wasn’t dead, they were alive and they were here. He knew that he should probably tell someone, especially Foreldri, but… It was hard to just wrap his mind around at the moment. Even more, they dared to come here and try to talk to him attempted to disrupt his life.  They were dangerous.

After afternoon classes, he headed back to his room. There was some free time before dinner, usually he would of spent it with his friends, but he needed to send his parent a message to let them know that he had something to tell them.

At least that was the plan until he heard voices from the hallway. Voices that were Inside his room.

Sweat broke out on the back of his neck as he slowed down, hovering outside the room. They were quiet, but it was two different voices, one familiar, the other unknown.

Dale had meant to stay in the hallway, to listen in, but the door opened immediately and there was the fake Loki. They didn't seem surprised to see him-curse that much better hearing.  “Don’t just stand there,” they said, reaching out to grab him and pulled him inside the room.

An older human man that he had never seen before but also who seemed weirdly familiar was inside his room as well. Threads of silver was mixed in his dark hair and he looked very tired. “There you are.” He said, as if the two of them had been waiting for him.

Dale yanked his wrist away from the impostor. “I told you to leave.” He said, his voice growing in volume. “If I scream for help, soldiers and my parent will be here in an instant to help me.” He warned.

The man made a noise like a chuckle deep in his throat. “Kid, you should know that telling Loki to do something isn’t enough to actually get them to do it. And we’re not here to hurt you. We came to see how you are doing.”

That sounded suspicious. Dale eyed him warily. “I’m fine.” He said. “Who are you, why do you care?”

“My name’s Darryl and-”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s fine.” Loki said, speaking over Darryl, which earned them a frustrated glare from the older human. “But that too, also to get you away from the moron in chief.”

“What- No! I’m not going anywhere with you!”

Darryl took a very deep breath, the veins in his neck bulging slightly. “Will you please just let me talk, for five seconds?”

“Five seconds.” Loki agreed.

“Alright,” Darryl made a motion with his hands, trying to contain the conversation before it got too far off track. “The truth about your parent, they don’t love or care about you. They’re like a robot, emotions are not something they can-“

“Time’s up, that was five seconds.” Loki cut in suddenly.

Instant frustration washed over Darryl as he turned toward them. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

The blue alien only smiled toward Dale, completely ignoring the other human in the room. “You belong with me. Us, whatever, not with that boring idiot.”

Dale could feel his anger bubbling under the surface. “No, I don’t!” He yelled. “I don’t even know you and now you want to come rip me away from the only place and family member I’ve ever had? Just because you want me to go? You haven't even asked what I want, or given me a reason why I should. I don’t know you and I don’t trust you. Because you think that I belong with you doesn’t mean that’s what I’m going to do! They are my family and I’m not going anywhere.”

His outburst seemed to be enough to stop the two of them. They exchanged a glance between turning back to him. “Then what do you want?” the fake Loki asked.

“For you both to leave me with my parent and to never come back.” Dale said.

“Alone with them? Darryl asked.

Dale narrowed his eyes. “You don’t know them.

“Do you?” The alien countered.

Dale flushed. “Yeah, they’re my parent, they love and care about me.” He snapped.

To his surprise, Darryl chuckled. Not in a mean spirited way but like he was actually surprised. “Love and care about you?” He repeated. “Kid, you don’t even know that blue menace. You don’t live with them, they just pop by to come see you every now and then, right?”

“Like you know them.”

Darryl nodded. “Actually yes, in fact. They used to live with me, in my basement. I got to know them pretty well. You know what I learned? They don’t care about much, except themselves and controlling everyone around them. That’s why they ran for president and then decided they wanted to be king of the world, so they could control everything and everyone. That’s what they care about. You just have a part to play in their game, it could of very easily been any other kid. ”

Dale glared at him. “You’re wrong. They’re not like that. This planet was suffering and broken under human rule and they fixed it.”

“Fixed it.” He echoed. “How, what did they do that was so wonderful?”

Dale swallowed. “This planet was broken.”

“Yes, you already said that. How did they fix it?”

The teenager’s mind raced a few moments as it seemed like everything he knew was suddenly gone. “Well.. they united the entire world under one leader. There’s still separate countries but no longer tons of different leaders.”

The blue alien scowled. “Yeah, so?”

“I’m getting there.” Dale almost stamped his foot in frustrating, before realizing how childish that looked and instead crossed his arms. “There’s no more war,” He said. “And humans were ruining the planet and The Great Representative is reversing that.”

“How?”

He blinked. “What?”

“How were they ruining the planet and what is “The Great Representative” doing to reverse it? What is their policies and how is it better then what the human world leaders were doing a decade ago?” Darryl asked.

That Dale didn’t know. While he had heard little bits here and there, he wasn’t too interested in politics, nor did his parent spend a lot of time going over their policy changes with him. All he had heard was they were making change and doing so much better than the previous humans had done, but not that much when it came to specifics.

“Hm.” The man exchanged a look with the fake Loki before he turned back to the teenager. “Are you happy?” Darryl asked, his voice unusually calm.

That question caught Dale off guard, the yes already on his lips but he stopped before he could say it. “I don’t…. of…. That’s not important.”

Loki started to say something, but Darryl threw up his hand quickly to stop them, with so much force that they actually stopped talking. His eyes never left the teenager. “Are you happy?” He repeated.

“Why would you-“

“Are. You. Happy?”

“It’s none of your business-”

“Answer the question, we came to check on you and see how you are doing and your happiness is part of that, now are you happy with this situation?” Darryl pressed.

Dale’s shoulders slumped and he sat down on the bed hard, his gaze far off. “I don’t know.” He admitted.

That admission cost him a lot, as he sometimes wondered if he actually loved his parent and if they loved him back. They were busy, tending this backward mudball of a planet all the time. Their plans for him were large, but the man was right about one thing, sometimes he just felt like a pawn in their long game.  He did what he needed to get their attention, good grades, awards, sound bites of praises from his instructors about his skills. But he always wondered if it was enough.

“Even if I wasn’t…” He started to say slowly, hoping his voice had more conviction then he actually felt. “I’m not going with you. I don’t know you, I don’t want to know you and I’m safe here. I’m not going with some fake version of my parent and a human that I don’t know.”

The older man stared back at him. “Alright …”

“You both should leave. I’m sick of your lies. And don’t come back. They’ll be able to smell that you were here.”

The expression that passed over Darryl’s face was a painful mix of frustration, anger and helplessness. “Okay…” He finally said, holding his hands up in defeat. “Just do one thing.”

Dale eyed him with distrust and suspicion. “What?”

“Ask your parent who your real parents are.”

Dale frowned. “Them. Obviously.”

Loki lifted their head. “They didn’t tell you?”

“… Tell me…?”

Darryl cut in. “They’re an alien, not a human. You are a human. So, they are not biologically related to you in anyway. And you did have to come from somewhere.”

A huge smile floated across Loki’s face. “I hope you didn’t think you just popped up one day.” Their smile disappeared when Darryl shoved his elbow into their ribs, hard.

Dale didn’t know what to say and he wanted both of them gone. “Fine, just... go.”

He expected them to put up a larger fight, but the man managed to drag the fake Loki out. As soon as they were gone, Dale sat down and tried to sort through complicated, jumbled mess of feelings he had toward Foreldri that had been brought up.

For as long as he could remembered, he had been saying he loved them. But did he actually? They were never here, never had time for him. Even the scraps he got when they did come was barely anything. They always demanded 110% and it was very hard to please them.

But they were never mean, didn’t yell a lot or beat him.  When he did do something good, they had told him that it was a job well done and he should be proud of that. Everything he had, this place here was because of them.

“I am not a pawn in their game, they love and care about me because they are my parent.” He said quietly. It sounded a lot less convincing than it had earlier.

Well, there was one way to solve this and to find out for sure. Without another thought, the teeneger got to his feet and hurried off down the hall toward their office. With a little bit of luck, they would be inside.

His parent looked up when he suddenly barged in, not quite in surprise as they probably had heard him coming, but confusion as they obviously wasn’t expecting him. “Dale…” They said slowly.

“Do you love me?” He blurted out.

They narrowed their eyes. “Yes.”

The teenager wasn’t sure what to say. Expressions of love didn’t come easily from them, but they also didn’t hesitate or sound like they didn’t mean it. He had been expecting them to hem and haw, unsure what to say when pressed under the relevance of their care.

“And what does love mean to you?”

“It means you are my child and I will take care of you.”

He bit his lip. “Who are my parents?”

“I am.”

It was Dale’s turn to narrow his eyes. “I meant my real parents… biological.”

Foreldri just looked at him a moment and then folded their hands neatly. “I don’t know, you were an orphan and in clear danger from my impostor and their idiotic wife. I removed you from the dangerous situation and took you here, to safety.” They stood up. “Why all the questions?”

“I want to know.” He crossed both arms to hide the fact his hands were trembling. “Like if the other Loki is really dead or not?”

That got their attention. His parent stood up quickly. “Where did you hear that from?”

“Are they?” He demanded.

They looked like they were about to say something else when their nostrils flared and they sniffed the air. Automatically, Dale was on guard. One of his earlier memories was being about four years old and called to know why he hasn’t touched a bite of his dinner. When he told them he wasn’t hungry, he learned that his alien parent had a superior sense of smell and could smell the sweets he had eaten hours ago.

When his Foreldri took a step toward him, he instantly retreated back a step. “What?” He asked, his heart starting to hammer against his rib cage.

“Them.” They growled and stormed toward the door. “Stay here, don’t answer the door for anyone.” They instructed before leaving and slamming the door behind them.

Horrified, he ran after them, realizing what had happened. They must have been aware that the other Loki and Darryl were here. “Wait!” He cried and tried to follow them, but the door refused to budge. He wrestled with it for a few moments, but no matter what he did, it wouldn’t open. “Come back!” He yelled and kicked at the door as hard as he could

Frustrated as he realized nothing could get him out of here, Dale turned away. They must have done something to it so he couldn’t get out. Typical. Like he was some kind of stupid child that needed to be locked away for his own safety.

Until his eyes landed on the window across the room. Quickly, he came toward it and opened the window, relieved that he was able to do so. Outside it was raining, the harsh wind blowing cold raindrops into his face. For a moment, he just looked down. This office was on the 4th floor and it was a long drop down.

Until a hand suddenly latched onto his wrist from behind and easily jerked him away from the window. “Don’t!” A voice commanded.

Confused, Dale spun around to find himself looking into deep red eyes. A second glance told him which alien it was. He jerked his wrist away from the other Loki. “I wasn’t going to jump.” He said indignantly. “I’m not stupid.” He paused a moment as he realized they were in the room with him and the door hadn’t opened since his parent had left. “How did you get in here?”

Loki just smiled.

“Where’s Darryl?”

They just shrugged. “Not here but he’s fine.”

Dale frowned, he wasn’t sure what they meant by that, but it wasn’t as if he knew if the older human was or not. “They didn’t tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“Who my real parents are.”

“Ah.” Loki walked toward the desk and sat down, putting their feet up on the desk in a clear show of disrespect for the fact this was The Great Representative’s desk. “That’s where this gets kinda funny.  You don’t have biological parents like everyone else does. “They explained.

“But I have to…”

Loki just shook their head. “No, see… You’re a clone of Darryl.”

Dale blinked. “Clone…” He echoed dumbly. “You’re… you’re joking.” He finally sputtered.

“Nope.”

Without another word, Dale sunk to the floor, his mind whirling in circles. A clone, of that other human. But why and how. And did that mean he would look like him when he was older?

Slowly, Loki stood up and came over to him, reached out and starts to run their fingers through his hair gently. The feeling was so comforting, he leaned into and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, they started to rumble softly. When he opened his eyes, he had listed far enough over that he was halfway into their lap and they were purring contentedly.

Twisting, Dale rolled over so he was lying on his back, his head in their lap and was staring up at them. Loki looked back as they continued to groom his hair.

Dale frowned. “Am I really a clone.”

“Yes.”

He still didn’t know what to say about that, his mind jumped to the next topic quickly. “Did I really call you mom?”

“Well…” Loki said. “You actually called me mama, but yes.”

“Why… you’re not… my… mother…”

“And that other blue person is?”

Dale frowned. “Oh…. But…. I mean… why did I start calling you that?”

This got him a shrug from the blue alien. “You didn’t have a mother and you were obsessed with wanting one. You were very attached to me and I asked you if you wanted me to be your parent and you said yes. I said you could pick what you wanted to call me, as I don’t have a gender and you picked mama.” They looked up at the teenage boy. “I loved being your mother. I missed you so much, I’ve been looking endlessly for where that firelicker hid you.”

“They said you were dangerous…”

Loki snorted. “They think almost everyone is dangerous. I wouldn’t of hurt you. I know how fragile humans are, especially human children.”

That stunned Dale. It contracted everything Foreldri had ever told him. And so far, nothing about them seemed wild and crazy.

“Are you really a fake version of them?”

“Of course not, they are a fake version of me. And they’re jealous of everything I had, including you, so they stole you.”

That also made Dale frown. “But… why did you want to be my parent, you didn’t have to.”

“Every child deserves to be loved.” Loki said. “You were a parent-less toddler who desperately wanted someone to love and care for you. Was my wife and I supposed to say no?”

Out of nowhere, his mind flashed back to a line he had read in a book a long time ago. There was no bond like the one between a mother and her children. Or in this case, a mother and their son.

All Dale knew was this is what he had been missing from his life, from his parent was this. Not the fact that they were practically babying him, but that they were paying attention, that they listened and gave the attention and affection he desperately wanted.

“Please don’t leave…” He mumbled.

They smiled. “Of course not.” They said and lovingly ruffled his hair. “Come on, we’re going to get Darryl and get out of this place.”

[especially-in-heaven]

Analysis of the Gang’s confessions in the Barn Scene

Best scene in the freakin show hands down (in my opinion) is the barn scene. Like ah. I could watch this scene over and over just because of the pure greatness of the show. So here’s my thoughts on the gangs confessions (minus Robin, he gets talked about too much, I want to focus on the gang).

This scene offered one of the best look ins on the gangs relationships to one another. We see little small moments throughout the series but nothing to this scale. The whole scene just shows how much of a family they are to one another.

I think this scene is one of the reasons I hate season 3 so much, because this barn scene rounded off the characters so well that it felt like all the arcs were completed. Or at least if they were going to do a season 3 they should have done good on everything the gang had said.

Much

Like with much, why wasn’t season 3 more focused on showing Robin and Much being closer after everything that was said in the barn. Everything Much said was so true. Robin’s constantly making Much carry all his weapons around throughout the series. Much is constantly doing all the small chores that Robin deems unimportant for him to do (ie. Planning his birthday, cooking the meals) It really plays on the master servant roll and definitely highlights Robin’s character flaws as despite being the hero of the poor, he still was raised into wealth. Without Much he would be lost, and Robin takes him for granted. Takes his loyalty for granted. Much has done so much for him throughout the years, even when Robin shouts and him to go away, Much always comes back (multiple times this happens). Robin has never done anything to that scale for Much.

And for this exact reason I love this scene. Robin’s flaws are shown and he becomes a realer person because of it, who has faults and he has to overcome them. Except he doesn’t. I would have preferred season 3 to have been more about this. All we got is the adorable and heartbreaking scene between them just before Robin’s death when he said ‘you’re more a man than I’ll ever be’. Which was amazing, and I’m glad they did but they also did nothing similar or close to this throughout season 3. Except force a stupid love triangle down our throats. Much went though his PTSD alone. In 1x01 Much feels the need to hide his tears from Robin. Despite being his best friend and possibly the person he's closest to in the world who understands what he's been through but much stays nothing and struggles though his ptsd all on his own. And his anger that he had to do it alone, when he should have been able to go to his best friend is portrayed beautifully in this scene.

Much is heart-breaking in this scene, especially when he turns to the rest of the gang for confirmation that what he’s saying is true and they all silently agree.

John:

Okay so his is the saddest. like the man mid speech literally gets up and plans to kill himself. This is meant to be a kids show goddamit!! But honestly, I think it goes to show so much about his character. He lost his wife and child (well not lost, but can’t be with them) and he found a new family in the gang but they're still apart of him. And during his speech you’ll notice he is so self depricating, calling himself ugly, calling himself stupid, calling himself a beast. Which is a side we’ve never seen in him before. In this scene we see this strong bear of a man, being so vulnerable. And he's had enough. Despite this being a kid’s show, it really does a wonderful job at portraying mental illnesses... ptsd with much and Robin, and depression with John. It's probably why it was him that went to go comfort Marian after her father's death. He knows what it's like to lose family. His wife, his child and let's not forget Roy.

And he wants it to end. He hates himself, he's lost everyone who matters to him. Now I don't think John is suicidal (that's not what I'm getting at), I genuinely don't think he would have walked out of that barn sincerely meaning to kill himself. He was just lost in the emotion of pain he was in. Its sweet, hufflepuff Will that comes along and holds him whilst he has a break down and that's when John collapses. He's with his family.

John was so much more than the quite one in the group whose vocabulary consists of 'this I do not like'. He was once a leader, a husband and father.

None of which he is anymore.

Will

I was a little disappointed by his confession. I think there was so much more to his characters than just his love for djaq (which was of course important). I felt the same about djaqs confession but I feel hers is made up by one line (which I'll get to later). Out of all the outlaws Will was most thoughtful and kind, throughout the series making comments about how the sheriff has ruined lives. As the only one in the group who was raised and born in Locksley as a peasent, he's more aware of what it's done to people's lives. I think the scene would have benefited if they'd have brought that aspect into it. Or spoken about his dad/ bother. Other than that, I think it filled this scene with something light, after all everyone else's is pretty heavy stuff with confessions about ptsd and attempt suicide. So putting the djaq and will aspect to it added a bit off fluff and stopped it being overly depressing and that everyone has a dark secret they needed to let out. Plus wills line 'I love your silly voice' is so cute that I can't even.

I will say though, that I think this scene between the two of them would have held more weight if there had been more moments between the two of them throughout the series.

 Djaq

I love that it's Djaq that initiates it. She senses everyone is stressed, realising they're going to die and she takes the initiative to sit everyone down to essentially talk about their feelings. She brings something from her home and shares it with her new family. I don't think she planned on revealing her love for will at the start, as it's only when she realises she has to be honest, does she turn to look at will and she knows she's not going to get another chance to say it. It's her line 'the way a bird would fly 2000 miles just to be with the one it loves' I love. I always use it whenever I do a Robin Hood fan video just because I think it is the best and most romantic analogy for love I've ever heard. I just think it’s really clever how the idea of the pigeons was used to represent both Marian/Robin and Djaq/wills relationships. Especially since both couples travelled from England to the holy land to be with their other half.

The final thing I'll say about Djaq is when Robin is trying to get out of confessing and she says 'my heaven is different from yours'. I love this view so much, like she has her own belief but she doesn't disregard Robins or the others faiths. She's saying we'll end up in the places we believe in and that it’s okay that we have faith in different things. I think if everyone had this world view there would be a lot less fighting in the world.

Djaq is actually the best and I don't think people give her enough credit.

Please reveal your own thoughts on this scene/or what your favourite scene is!

(I wrote a lot of this on my phone, on the way to work in a rush, so sorry if I slip into text language or typos)

[thisdaynews]

Attack On Falana Over His Views On Oodua, Biafra Republics Unnecessary, Undemocratic —Group

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/attack-on-falana-over-his-views-on-oodua-biafra-republics-unnecessary-undemocratic-group/

Attack On Falana Over His Views On Oodua, Biafra Republics Unnecessary, Undemocratic —Group

The Democracy Vanguard has censured the assault on common liberties legal advisor, Femi Falana (SAN) over a TV talk with he conceded on the progressing ethnic patriotism crusades by various ethnic gatherings with specific reference to the free Yoruba Nation campaigners.

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The gathering said Falana in the meeting communicated his majority rule directly as a Nigerian and a social dissident of numerous long periods of permanent pragmatic inclusion in friendly battles in the country.

The common freedoms lobbyist had brought up what he thought were impediments and philosophical disarray in the journey for an autonomous Yoruba country, Oodua Republic or some other ethnic self-assurance battle for autonomy or withdrawal.

He said ethnic patriot campaigners would make similar class of degenerate tip top oppressors in Nigeria in their ethnic fiefdom since they have not mentioned to Nigerians what financial designs the free ethnic republics of their creative mind are to run.

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Falana had said, “They were not chatting on different essentials like free schooling, wellbeing and other social framework that would hold any importance with the abused residents.

“It resembles saying that for what reason did you need to leave Nigeria if a similar class oppressors would be in charge of political force and the economy of the conceived country to the disadvantage of the striving common laborers and the helpless masses in your new ethnic country?”

The legal counselor added that the ethnic campaigners had not directed a submission for individuals in the South-West district to be persuaded that most of their kinsmen of a similar ethnic square might want to leave Nigeria for a Yoruba country or some other country being lobbied for by changed campaigners.

As indicated by Adeola Soetan, National Coordinator of Democracy Vanguard, the focuses raised by the Senior Advocate of Nigeria are substantial and can’t be disapproved with a flood of hand, mishandles and supported assaults with the rest of his personal effects.

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He said, “A genuine undertaking of this nature isn’t a casual get-together or a smorgasbord supper. It’s a battle which should not exclusively be battled in the city yet in addition by challenge of belief system, insight, viewpoints and the philosophical supporting with the end goal for everyone to have a reasonable thought of their aggregate vision. It can’t be exactly the same thing like the Israelite venture from servitude in Egypt to the Promised Land which vision and mission were simply known to God, and potentially his blessed servant(s) to lead the Israelites out of subjugation from Egypt yet were not perfectly clear to the entire Israelites.

“No submission and no equitably acknowledged program of exit and the excursion. Maybe if the mission was genuinely obvious to them without tension, there wouldn’t be a lot of fomentations and disregard against God’s order by individuals.

“Mission for ethnic patriotism, rebuilding or withdrawal considers disparate suppositions for thoughts to challenge for individuals to have a genuinely clear thought of the elective projects that will improve their lives. It’s a majority rule work out, not an induction where individuals are compelled to acknowledge a thought without alternative or their voices not to be heard boisterous and clear.

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“Days after Femi Falana offered his expression of alert that it would be useless if similar severe prevailing average government officials in Nigeria are the very lawmakers that would in any case hold influence in the envisioned Yoruba country or some other, Sunday Igboho, a transcending pioneer in the mission for Yoruba country, came out to speak to Asiwaju Bola Tinubu not to trouble himself by seeking to turn into Nigeria’s leader; rather he should come and aim under the ‘arising’ Yoruba country.

“Has Falana not been demonstrated right somewhat that it wouldn’t have any effect if individuals flee from Nigeria overwhelmed by a bad enemy of helpless decision class of shifted ethnic personalities however exposed themselves to their own class oppressors in their ethnic countries.

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“Its absolutely impossible any mission for free ethnic identities from the current country would flee from the class nature and which class controls the political constructions and the directing tallness of the economy of their ideal ethnic country. In the event that you need to assemble another house, it’s normal that your involvement in your first house would come to bear on the best way to establish the framework and fabricate a superior and more strong new house. I figure we ought to consistently be aware of this fundamental point from the beginning as opposed to deferring the conversation on the financial proprietorship and political control of the arising countries between the ‘acquired’ public degenerate average political class in Nigeria and the working people of the envisioned countries.

“We should have Yoruba country first and any remaining issues would be talked about later’ is exceptionally risky and may make the entire vote based battle for ethnic identities inefficient. That is one of the worst things about Nigeria as a weak country with progressive terrible pioneers comprising of various ethnic extractions offering the country’s region to few entrepreneurs under enemy of poor neo-liberal financial strategies of privatization, commercialisation, downgrading of money and liberation. In this fourth republic alone, we have seen the supported initiative disappointment from (Olusegun) Obasanjo, (Goodluck) Jonathan and now (Muhammadu) Buhari.

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“This is on the grounds that your class oppressors in Nigeria will remain your class oppressors in your free ethnic countries on the off chance that they actually control the switch of political and monetary capacity to the disadvantage of the helpless masses and the striving common laborers. In this way, Falana was directly in giving class viewpoint measurement during his media meet. There will not be any relief If similar terrible lead representatives, legislators and other high profile political public holders of your ethnic gathering are the very set that will rule the Yoruba country, Arewa, Biafra Republic or some other ethnic based nationhood that baffled Nigerians may fuss for part of the way because of all out initiative disappointment, supportive of rich, hostile to helpless entrepreneur framework, mass destitution, ethnic shared doubt and extraordinary condition of weakness that make daily routine and experiencing practically pointless at that point and now.

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“Anyway my place of difference with Femi Falana dependent on the meeting he allowed was to have given the feeling that a choice should precede individuals can begin lobbying for free ethnic countries or that the submission should go pari passu with the mission for it to be genuine. No, I don’t think so.

“From my perspective, all lobbies for ethnic patriotism are articulations of majority rule privileges of displeased residents/ethnic gatherings and the shortfall of a choice currently doesn’t delegitimise the mission. Submission consistently goes along the line of the tumult and on occasion as a peak to give mainstream support or not to the journey through plebiscite.

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“I repeat that ethnic assurance campaigners ought not be unfriendly to the individuals who hold unique suppositions from theirs and the individuals who hold philosophical/class viewpoint on the missions. Nobody ought to be harrased, scared or compromised dependent on their conclusions which they are allowed to communicate as a popularity based right.”

[georgia-black-hat-society]

A Primer for the Non-Subscriber: The Conical Hat

"You can choose a ready guide, in some celestial voice.

If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.

 You can choose from phantom fears, and kindness that can kill.

I will choose a path that's clear, I will choose free will."

~Neil Peart

 Let us delve into WHY “Black Hat Society” was chosen. 

Come, take a walk with me through the words of history. Our first stop will be short, here is the “why” for color.

 By definition, “black” is the absorption of ALL colors in the visible spectrum. The CONES in our eyes perceive this as “nothing” being reflected or refracted from something. All light is absorbed by that thing (Newton’s). This is perceived as a ONENESS to me. ALL things are absorbed because all things are as one. Furthermore, I do not subscribe to any preconceived notions or prejudices forced upon society over time. With that, I am neither a Theist nor Atheist. I believe there is a little #TRUTH in ALL THINGS. Even something that only exists in thought, “is”. That which is not perceived, or does not exist in thought, “is” too.

 I digress. Let us talk more about the history of this millinery success. This hat has traveled through human existence for thousands of years. The conical black hat has carried with it meanings of power, both positive and negative. Most recently, a hat of this style (conical black felt) was discovered on mummies from around 4,000 years ago with the “Subeshi Witches”, found on the northern Silk Road trade route.  (Although, we now understand that those around the World who were known as “witches” often did not even cover their heads or wore simple scarves instead.)

 Before 1000 BC, also known as the Bronze Age, priests (because this title has ALWAYS referred to “elder” , “one with knowledge” or “wise one”) would wear golden conical hats that stood almost 3 feet tall. These hats were decorated with sun and moon symbols, indicating that their wearers were star-trackers who were able to analyze the sky to study celestial bodies and predict the weather. This is not such a mystery today. Seeing the power these people commanded from others around them by simply paying attention to their environment, dogma was taking notice.

 Did the “Three Wise Men” derive from here? Was a conical hat worn to the birth of this particular messiah? They did follow a star after all.

 None the less, their meteorological ability, misunderstood by many, caused the priests to be referred to as “king-priests” and were thought to have magical powers. It was also believed that they had access to a divine knowledge that enabled them to look into the future. Much of this was simply the ability to follow “cause and effect”. It is from this early use of conical hats that led to the traditional star-spangled wizard’s hat that we recognize in clothing today.

 There was some thought of the Babylonian Jews at this time wearing conical hats themselves by choice. Possibly a conquered people from Iran? Scythian? Their warriors were described as wearing “conical hats” from cuneiform inscriptions found from that time. Regardless, they were forced to then wear them as a form of discrimination from the Islamic groups of Iraq. This “public identification” carried on for thousands of years for anyone connected to this hat.

 Jump forward in time to the “Christ Era”.

 In the 6th to 10th century, also referred to as The Dark Ages (the first half of the Middle Ages from 500 to 1000 AD) not a lot of history was able to be kept. This was a very volatile time during human existence. The Roman Empire fell and a lot of writings and knowledge were lost to the ages. The collapse of the Roman Empire lead to a lack of a kingdom or any political structure. This caused the churches of the time to take control and they became the most powerful institutions in Europe. It was during this time the Church began taking elements of “heathen” culture and Old Religion to appropriate for their agenda of conquer and expand.

 Turning to the 11th century, the conical hat seemed to have been morphed into use as the Mitre, an accessory vestment, by the Church. There is quite a debate about this. You can observe from various timeless Brotherhoods of Xtianity, that the conical hat remained in use. The Spaniards are the main ones that held fast to this piece of attire. Intolerance and its representation of “wrongness” continued for the hat. It began being used for those serving “penance” with the Church.

The Practitioners who walked this Path were called Penitents. Traditionally in Spain, those wearing the conical hat were known as capirotes. It was used during the times of the Spanish Inquisition as a punishment. Bastardized as many things were from the histories of previous peoples, the condemned by that Tribunal were obliged to wear a yellow robe – saco bendito, also known as a blessed robe that covered their chest and back. along with the hat. The hat was a paper-made cone on their heads with different signs on it, alluding to the type of crime they had committed. For instance, those to be executed wore red. The were also green, white and black colors worn.

 The Church’s power began to waiver again and they had to do “something” to bring it back to their grasp. One of their thinkers, whom I believe was connected to the Inquisition, began looking around for ways to do this. In 1214, The Dominican Order was established in the Catholic church. The first group on their radar was the Manicheans. For more than a thousand years, since the Roman Empire was in power, war with the Persian Empire (Middle East) which included the Manichaeans, carried on. The Manichaens were seen as representatives of a foreign power and as dangerous aliens, even though they were but a small section of Persia.  Sound familiar?

The Mani had not been supporters of the Persian Empire's wars with other lands, including Rome, but that was overlooked. The Romans persecuted the Manichaeans, while Jews were also being persecuted.  And without the backing of the brute power of a major state in the Middle East/Persia, Manichaeism would all but disappear in the future. They were considered “outcasts” in their own society. I wonder if they wore “conical hats”? Do you know who the Yazidi are? You should.

 While this was happening, we move further into the 12th century with our hat. The Mongol Queens from the Mongol Empire founded by Genghis Khan in 1206, were wearing these conical hats too. Originating from the Mongol heartland in the Steppe of central Asia. By the late 13th century it spanned from the Pacific Ocean in the east to the Danube River and the shores of the Persian Gulf in the west. Khan’s was a competing empire for world dominance. None the less, there were no real differences in men and women’s clothing for the time but the Mongols needed to be seen from great distances, hence, the tall conical hat. This empire would not last against another… and the hat traveled.

 As the story goes, Marco Polo brought back a sample of this hat to Europe in the 14th Century. The voracity of land grabs had already begun in the World. Mother Nature was being raped and disregarded and “fashion” became more important than meaning or purpose. The women of the time began wearing a conical hat called a hennin, not as Practitioners, but as fashionistas of their time. Very much unlike the willow-withe and felt Boqta (Ku-Ku) of Mongolian Queens. This appropriation became known as “the princess hat” and was worn tilted back on the head and veiled with brightly colored fabrics.

The “witch”, a word now derived from the Old English nouns wicca with an Old English pronunciation: [ˈwɪttʃɑ], meaning 'sorcerer, male witch, warlock' and wicce, the Old English pronunciation: [ˈwɪttʃe] for 'sorceress, female witch', actually becomes murky in meaning and language after this. The “witch” hunts were now well under way.

 Since the beginning of its blighted past, the conical hat has stood to represent those outcast by their society. This seemed more prevalent in the later half its history. Why? The perpetuation of it being “negative” began with the Church.

 It is of my opinion, the wearers of this hat were hold outs of Old Religion, Earth-Minded Folk and others at the turn of “the Christ event”. Because they did not or would not subscribe to what they were being sold, they became outcast from the forward momentum of society at that time. “Those in power”, i.e. Rome and later Europe and North America would not stand for anyone that did not conform to their forward march of greed and exploitation of Earth and “lesser humans”.

 As we slipped into the 15th century, thousands were dying at the hands of those in power. The danger of witches became a widespread public concern. Urbanization and increased trade with foreign lands, along with epidemics of plague and cholera resulting from that trade, the onset of the Little Ice Age, upset feudal and religious hierarchies, ALL gave way to a convoluted mindset. “Something” had to be the cause. The was NO personal accountability. There was a widespread sense that the uncontrollable forces of change were destroying all order and moral tradition and the Church’s control. Persecuting witches redefined society’s moral boundaries and secured who was in control. This shift lent a leg up to allowing, and almost requiring, the demoralization of self if one did not conform or think or act like the majority in society. Differences in people, like those who were LGBTQ, although a part of us for thousands of years, were persecuted by the Church.

 While we are passing through the 15th century, let us also consider the possibility that the witch’s hat is an exaggeration of the tall, conical “dunce’s hat” that was popular in the royal courts of the time as well. Or, let us consider the tall but blunt-topped hats worn by Puritans and the Welsh, who also had separate ideas than the majority. No matter what the fashion, pointed hats were frowned upon by the Church, which now associated points with the horns of the devil to maintain its power and fear-mongered agendas.

 Let us also consider, somewhere along the way, an artist took creative license and added a brim to the timeless conical hat. Why would they do this?

 Brimless, conical hats had long been associated with male wizards, magicians, Jews, Mani and many other societal outcasts. And, it was a male dominated society as the shift was happening. Goya even painted witches with such hats. It is possible that an artist added a brim to make the hats more appropriate for women (according to the fashion “rules” at the time) and to better fit this agenda of forward motion and subservience of others. One theory holds that the stereotypical witch’s hat came into being in Victorian times or around the turn of the century, in illustrations of childrens’ fairy tales. The tall, black, conical hat and the ugly crone became readily identifiable symbols of wickedness, to be feared by children. Hence, more fear-mongering was created in the name of control by the Church.

I do not feel I need to retell the rest of the history of the conical, now brimmed, black hat of the last 500 years. You should all be aware of the many “witch” trials by now. You have walked through history with me. You see where it comes from. You see why Georgia Black Hat Society has the Mission Statement it does. You see, my fellow Practitioner, why I take the stances that I do and want to hold to a belief of ONENESS of all things, just as my kindred folk of the previous thousands of years have done. Not war. Not greed. Not conquering my neighbors’ houses while wearing the now hijacked “black hat” of the social elite.

Harmony. Love. Unity.

THAT is what this all means to me.

 More to come.

 Blessings.

Reverend Richoz, RN