#He won and was called a hero but at the cost at becoming a shell of his former self

[wayfinderships]

AUUUUUUGH! I miss my little guy your honor!! I miss him so damn much!!!

[theinfiknight]

This is a lil piece of poetry I wrote because Hollow Knight made me feel so many things, so feel free to read it if you like

A land apart did he arrive Empty of life and yet alive Mind and soul he gave to keep A king is made, rejoice and weep

Thought and self given to all Stand above to answer his call Eternity, a promise made to last The king looks forward, forgotten is past

Light left behind, a cast off shell Changing, growing, kingdom doth swell Stag to beast, mushroom to moth The king rules supreme, light is forgot

Light is forgot Light is forgot Awry strays the minds of the glow hungry moths Grievously will they pay For their sins that day To forget creator til they can remember naught

One great shell of eclipsed might One fierce, one mysterious, one kindly knight One malodorous brave that stains the air The king is great, his famed five, fair

All among all acknowledge his reign Pale king, White Queen, land lives again Great doors left open to all who seek The king shines radiant, for mighty and meek

Higher beings, these words are for you alone Welcome to the kingdom that gods call home Enter this land of creator and god The king permits it, obey our laws

Welcome to Hallownest, of legend and story! Welcome to the Eternal Kingdom! Share in its glory!

Make your fortune at crystal peak! Where unearthly stone seems to sing Else in the city find that which you seek Prosperity and fortune, promises the king

Wander along down the Pilgrim's Way Take in the beauty of greenkin tamed Behold the queen's gardens, wild and fey The king shines, supremity claimed

Explore the crossroads that wind afar Where trade and life does pulse and ebb Witness it thrive, a kingdom grown large The king at the center, of the living web

Rejoice to witness his light in person In thrall lies mortal bug stood before him Misery cannot exist, nor Kingdom worsen While in his radiance. All adore him! . . . . Memory lost shall remember again Light shines through in hearts of woe Eternity crumbles, ruin begun The king is fractured by forgotten foe

Unity offered, self removed Power and might in exchange for will Join something bigger, it behooves The king is shadowed, light shines still

Oh pale one, great one! oh glorious! They beg, they cry out, they despairingly call Scorching, radiant, bright but odious The king is helpless, light takes all

No cost too great, no act too low Of root and soul, in void will they grow Empty, mindless, to cage that which shines The king will act, against power divine

No will to break, no mind to think To gaze into blackest void, and not blink No voice to cry, no soul to die All light casts shadow, and shadowed they lie

A container to hold void enslaved Vessels of purity, the umbra's shade Birthed, shaped, and left to rot The king needs them not, they are forgot

Massive birthplace of void unmade Deep and dark does the abyss go Buried within do his children fade The king closes it off, they need not know

Chosen vessel, pure and empty Son and hero made, hope renewed Tarnished forever, by love aplenty The king mistakes, purity is skewed

Despair no more! Behold in awe! Palest God's most silent son! Empty, its core, without flaw! Our Hollow Saviour, the war is won!

Peace and heart, for a time return As silent Prince does grow and learn To think, to be, to feel and to fight Light and dark in a single shell, a Hollow Knight

Greater still is surety required Firmer still must the lock hold Three chosen to ascend ever higher The king is eternal, but time grows old

A lock for diversity, of the archive's halls A scholar, the teacher, wise and prepared Mask entrusted away, the endless calls The king requires the it, the dream Monomon shares

A lock for king, for dream, for monarch Loyalty and life, given for the throne Watcher on high, spire so dark The king demands it, Lurien sleeps alone

A lock for union between high and low A deal is made, a dalliance to keep The 'beast' is tamed and seeds are sown The king's work is finished, Herrah sleeps

Beloved of beast, daughter of Wyrm Raised by root, fierce and strong Hive trained to strike true and firm The king gives life, child of silk and song

Strength misjudged, bonds created A broken vessel to chain light unbound Eternity imprisoned, no end awaited The king imposes, sacrifice enshrouds

Willingly does it rise to meet it Freely does it sacrifice its soul For only by dark is light defeated But how so is it hollow, with no hole?

Where emptiness once lay, dreams persist Ideas and love and a life to give Kindness in its brow, restraint in its fist Never meant to die, but also never to live

Unknowing, the deed is done Unwilling, the king buries his son Unfeeling, it goes away to burn Never again may it return

Never again will light release. Never again will Hallownest know peace . The seal is set, the lock is done Our knight is chained, the war is won Light fades away, Kingdom secure All hail the king, eternity is here!

Eternity is here! Forget that fear! Forget that scorching glow! Bask now in pale glory of The kingdom that eternal grows! . . . .

Fading, fading Mind and soul awake Hurting, hurting Love and heart to take Empty, so empty Hollow, he is not Foolish, so foolish Hallownest begins to rot

Shame. Sorrow. Love, Light... and another Do not think. Do not feel. Do not... Father?

Light burns harsh, angry and proud Vengeance shines through Hollow shroud Forgotten she will not be, first and brightest The king needs understand, it is no foe he might best

Orange, virulent, infection spreads Mindless, soulless, unity takes Fear the living, strong and mad, fear the mindless dead The king regrets, low and sad, strongest of wills can break

Brother turns on brother, burning, burning Madness, a frenzy, churning, churning Carnage, rage, bodies flying, flying Massacred and broken, dying, dying

Gone is the promise, left has the dream Only echoes and shadows, acid and steam Kingdom of glory, left now for dead The king is silent, low bends his head

Greenkin lost, Unn hides away Bloated fungi disfigured like clay Bound in the garden, the white lady withdraws The king has failed. Lost is the war . It's over, it's here, the doom that I feared It's done, they've won, all I hold dear Is gone, by spawn, of blight divine I've failed, oh jailed, Hollow son of mine.

Fate will not deny its course I cannot see the way, and fear the worst An end has reached its time to die Shame drowns in sorrow. Goodbye. . . . Gone is the king, cry in lament! Abandoning the very ones that he swore To protect, tearing open a mighty rent In his own heart, shut like the great doors

Dear king, how, why have you left us?! We wander and we search for you still Into darkness we stumble, for it yet does Hurt in our hearts where once was your will

They still call out your name with despair and regret For none could tame their savage souls, yet you the challenge met What you gave to bug and beast was unfathomable, and yet Foolish it was to make them, their first light, forget

The fading town reduces and dies Kingdom and city now, in ruin lies No dream, no mind, only light and pain The king is gone. What now remains?

Palace vanished, knights five, disbanded Monarch but a memory, stagways abandoned Limbo sleeps forever, mourn the paradise lost The king's love severed, this is eternity's cost

One by one the last souls burn In search of glory that will not return Enter the darkness and succumb to light The king is long gone, for he lost the fight

He lost the fight! He lost the fight! Give your self up to blinding light! Take all your dreams and hold them close The light calls out, and your willingness shows

Give in to light! Give in to light! Forget that foolish king! Forget his insolent attempt to close what never should have been!

Power, knowledge, and all that your heart desires Come to me, become greater, burn in the cosmic fire! . . .

Fools gather at kingdoms edge Drown their fear in violence and blood Ancient sorrows do they dredge The king shadows in shell molt flood

Buried in green, a hunter wastes away Closed, angry, mantis warriors stand proud Deeper, hungry, the beast's devout, decay Bereft, lost , kingdom withers in the ground

Ancient nailmasters mourn in solitude Remnants of greatness from a better age Nailsage's legacy, once strong and shrewd Now faint as marks on a torn off page

Mossmen remain in puddles of leaf Awaiting a return ever unreturning Wishing like all else, drowning in grief For a lost god that vanished after the burning

The light seeks out even those who hide Tempting the brave, proud and the mighty Even the unbending mantis lords' pride Do not blind themselves to it lightly

Even among the proud, traitors emerge Valuing strength above mind and skill Petras and warriors, lost to the scourge Caring not for the battle, only for the kill

The queen's gardens are lost to those Invaders who, expelled from their lands Enraged, swarm that thorned repose Executing the will of their light's command

Seeking palest root, bound and blind Solitude in exile, like her beloved But of the mighty, the mysterious, and kind The fierce of the five still guards what they covet

The mysterious, the heartbroken withers alone Distant from her love, far from her home Brave Ogrim slowly loses his mind, His faith and the the very life of the Kind

Outsiders, few, still sparingly appear A strange fool who thinks himself mighty A masked bug lured by memory unclear And a haughty warrior approaching doom lightly

Very few now remain in the fading town The old bug who stands by and advises The mapmaker who ever heads further down But on a distant hill, a figure rises!

A diminutive echo of deep silence That approaches unceasingly, toward The great door that does Kingdom fence, Holding aloft the ghost of a sword

That strikes at the great portal, with nail Cracked and grown old with wear With strength unseeming for one so frail Shattering the door as if it were never there

Small and weak seems the knight As it enters the land plagued bright Can an entire kingdom's fate Rest on the silhouette in the gate That enters so boldly and unafraid Unfeeling as void in which it was made Drawn once more by phantom's call Returning to the land of light's fall

No mighty strength does it seem To wield as it walks as if in dream Down the dusty, ashen road That leads to lonely, fading abode . . . . A land apart did it arrive Empty of life and yet alive Blood and corruption now does seep A kingdom is dead, sorrow and weep

Higher beings, heed well this writing Focus soul to heal crack and seam Through twisted spell or vulgar fighting You will achieve that which others can only dream

Every footstep hangs heavy with fate Into the kingdom that burns in light The speck that will confound even the great The unceasing march of the Hollow Knight

That’s all, hope you liked it. Do reblog if you did

[swtorpadawan]

Promises

Author’s Notes: The following obviously applies to my main Jedi Knight OC, Corellan Halcyon, but I feel it could apply to a great many JKs, so i’ve used gender-neutral pronouns where possible. Graphics courtesy of Wookiepedia, since i’m away from my screen captures at the moment.  The Sith Lord known as Lord Scourge wants Revenge against Vitiate, the Sith Emperor. He wants revenge for what the ancient Sith Lord did to him three hundred years ago, granting him immortality but taking from him everything that made life worth living. He wants revenge for being forced to serve as his personal executioner for all of that time. It is true that Scourge may have started down this long and arduous path out of a sort of enlightened self-interest. Vitiate, Scourge knows full-well, is a threat to the entire galaxy. He has known that from the moment he met him in person so many years ago. The Emperor is a threat to everyone who has ever lived and to everyone who ever will live. But his anger and rage at his ‘Master’ have only deepened over the centuries. Scourge is incredibly fortunate that he burns cold, one of the side-effects that he suffers as the result of Vitiate’s ritual. Were it otherwise, the Emperor would surely have sensed the profound danger that his Wrath represented, and the unrepentant traitor has no illusions as to how that confrontation would end. After the Dromund Kaas operation, Scourge claims to stay with the Defender’s crew simply to be certain that the Emperor has left them no further surprises.   But somewhere deep down, Scourge knows that this isn’t the end of it. Something of the Emperor has survived. But he also knows the Jedi Knight will be there to see the prophecy through no matter what it takes. The Knight’s resolve is the equal of Revan’s, of the Exile’s and of Scourge’s himself. Perhaps even greater.  And Scourge will therefore aid the Jedi however he can. Lord Scourge stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him Revenge.

Fidelitin Rusk has been fighting one battle or another for his entire adult life. He is considered ruthless and sometimes even reckless by his fellow Republic soldiers, and sometimes even by his crewmates. Rusk – the third-oldest member of the crew but perhaps the oldest in practical life experience – accepts these assessments without rebuke or defense; he is what he is. His entire mindset was constructed for battles and wars that had to be won regardless of the costs. Rusk has fought so hard and for so long that there are some days when even he starts to forget why he does what he does. Indeed, there are times when Rusk disapproves of the Knight’s choices, believing that they risk too much for others and that they are far too willing to however briefly put aside the greater mission to save even a single life all while the entire galaxy stands at risk.

But deep down, the lost soldier’s only true purpose has only ever been to defend those who cannot defend themselves. He was born and raised by a colony of pacifists; that didn’t stop the Empire from annihilating his people. When he looks at the Jedi Knight – so selfless and so brave, so willing to put themselves on the line for those who need them, he is reminded of the justness of that cause. And as he wins battle after battle and that cause is served, than perhaps everything that Rusk has done has been worth it.  

Sergeant Fideltin Rusk stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him Victory.

Contrary to popular belief, Doctor Archiban Kimble knows perfectly how the rest of the galaxy, and even his closest allies aboard the Defender, view him. The man who calls himself Doc is seen as an arrogant, misogynistic, self-aggrandizing, fame-seeking, womanizing nerf-herder; a man who has left a seemingly endless line of women high and dry over the years, from Prudy and on down the list. Honestly? Doc wouldn’t have it any other way. Letting people believe that he cares so little about his personal relationships gives him a sort of shield against the things in the universe that he doesn’t want to deal with, all while still allowing him to continue to enjoy the things that keep him going.

But a man who worked his through medical school on his own merits and who has consistently chosen to serve as a combat medic on some of the most dangerous planets in the galaxy doesn’t do so just for fame, fortune and women. He could have had all that and lived in style while conducting research projects for a major pharmaceutical company back on Coruscant. No, once upon a time there was a young Archiban who set upon this path, and who did so for far nobler reasons then Doc would ever admit to anyone. Doc doesn’t know how, but for some reason, he knows that when the Jedi Knight looks at him, they see something beyond the broken healer who has put up a shell around themselves. The Knight then offers the medic an opportunity for a more meaningful existence than he could have ever dreamed of.  

Doc stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise to always Help others.

Some days, Kira Carsen feels like she’s spent her entire life just trying to be true to who she is in a galaxy that seems determined to force her to become something else. She was raised on Korriban by some of the most sadistic and fanatical Sith in the galaxy, the Children of the Emperor. Every time she sees one of her ‘siblings’ returning to the dormitories with missing pieces of their memory, she cringes and pulls up her blanket around herself. And when Kira returns one night and realizes she can’t remember what happened to her, she knows that soon, there will be nothing left of her identity, either. The survival rate of acolytes who flee the Korriban academy cannot be higher than two percent. Most flee into the wilderness and, when they aren’t immediately hunted down and killed, become ‘broken’, running around in gangs, often going mad. But ten-year old Kira smuggles herself out on an outgoing cargo ship, and a week later she’s on Nar Shaddaa. She sees the suffering of people, there. Those who are unable or unwilling to kick something up to the Hutts quickly find themselves sent down. The slums where refugees congregate are almost as cruel and unforgiving as Korriban. Life is hard, but here, Kira discovers something about herself. Inexplicably, she actually cares about other people; especially the ones who take her in, and who are too weak to fend for themselves against the predators among them. Then Kira meets Bela Kiwiiks and joins the Jedi Order. Kira is unbelievably grateful to Master Kiwiiks. The Togrutta got her off Nar Shaddaa, gave her a home and a place in the galaxy, and has given her a place in the galaxy and the chance to do some good. Master Kiwiiks is like the mother that she never had. Kiwiiks is gently but firmly trying to teach Kira to be the best Jedi she can be.      

But as proud as she is to be a Jedi, Kira Carsen is trying to be the best version of herself.

When she meets the Jedi Knight, everything changes very quickly. Somehow, the Knight trusts Kira against the Black Sun at the spaceport on Coruscant, and then later still when they’re hunting down Tarnis. When Master Satele instructs the Knight to take Kira in as a Padawan, Kira is elated. She follows the Knight’s lead, but she feels more like a partner than their apprentice. The Knight talks with her instead of at her, and they learn a great deal about themselves and the galaxy from each other. When Kira’s past is revealed, the Knight supports her unquestioningly; first against Valis, then against Master Jaric Kaedan and finally against the Emperor himself on Darth Angral’s dreadnaught. When Kira finally purges the Emperor from her mind, she feels the Knight reaching out to her, aiding her the entire time.

(All this comes before that night under the stars on Tython, when Kira finally jumps the Knight and they become far more than partners.)

Kira is still herself, learning and growing at her own pace. There are times she questions the Knight’s choices. She groans when they take in Doc and worries a great deal when they let Scourge join. But through it all, the Knight never asks Kira to compromise herself; they never tell her how she should feel or think about anything. The Knight simply asks Kira to trust them. And she does. The doubting Jedi questions many things; but they never question the Knight, because the Knight has never questioned her.

Kira Carsen stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise to let her be Herself , and because they let her become the best version of Herself she can.

T7-O1 – Teeseven to his friends – has served the Jedi Order for decades, and quite frankly, they would be hard pressed to find anyone who has done so with greater devotion. The astromech droid is more than content to carry messages and conduct reconnaissance for the Jedi as they continue to adjust to their home on Tython.

But for the mechanical servant, the most satisfying period of his existence was during the time he served as a companion to Jedi Master Ven Zallow, one of the greatest heroes of the Galactic Republic during the last galactic war. Zallow was a true champion of the ideals of both the Jedi and the Republic, serving with wisdom and strength. The little droid misses those days, fiercely. He knows the work he does for the Order is important, but nothing was more fulfilling than knowing ones actions have helped right a wrong or saved a life.  

After ten years of waiting, Teeseven is finally partnered with another hero. This one is even kinder and more powerful than Ven Zallow; they seem to do nothing but sacrifice for others. In the Jedi Knight, Teeseven has found a champion who can save the entire galaxy. Privately, the little droid does worry. He worries that the cruelties of this galaxy will weigh on the Knight, that they will become bitter with loss, and will eventually fall short of their ideals as so many Jedi have before.  But Teeseven will be there for the Knight, no matter what. They will follow the Knight into the darkest places in the galaxy, as they blaze a light. They will be the Knight’s friend, and show the Jedi the way. In return, the Knight will help Teeseven be what the droid always wanted to be.

T7-O1 stays with the Jedi Knight because they promise him that they will always be Heroes.

[treytheyouthguy]

From the Journal of Craven

(I’ve recently gotten to be apart of a new D&D Group from the Geeks Under Grace Community, and one of our players wrote a summary of the first session from the perspective of her character, and it got me wanting to attempt it myself. So here goes nothing!)

Name: Craven

Race: Kalashtar

Class: Barbarian (Eventually Path of the Totem Spirit)

Age: 25

Alignment: Lawful Good

Appearance: 6' 1", Dark Brown Shaggy Faux-Hawk Hair, Medium Length Well Kept Beard, Glowing Cerulean Eyes, Pale Skin

Fun Facts: Often will speak telepathically to strangers before meeting them to scare them. Has been apart of civilized society, but is somewhat socially awkward and often described as "literal". Sometimes talks to himself, or at least seemingly to himself.

It seems my travels have brought me to a city known as Galandel.

Usarus has led me to believe that we will find the help we need here, though he is getting less and less helpful. I swear, sometimes I think he likes to watch me get into strange circumstances and awkward situations.

I stumbled upon a scuffle in an alley involving a devil girl and a hooded figure. I attempted to ask the devil girl if she needed assistance, but I don’t think she likes intrusions of the mind, because she screamed at me in devil tongue.

Then, almost out of nowhere, a man claiming to be a champion of a deity named Tier? Tyr? Tire? named Valzan. He honestly looked just like the heroes from the book of stories father would read to me. The stories seemed to become even more real when he began to interrogate a ruffian. I surmised that the evil-doer was there to apprehend the devil girl.

Valzan seemed eager to help these two alley dwellers for some reason. The Devil-Girl seemed even more uneasy, yelling and calling the villain a “Slavers Lapdog”, which I couldn’t help but chuckle at. I once again attempted to establish a telepathic connection, but to no avail; the naughty nair-do-weller ignored my plea and was bent on making things worse. Two more bad men came from out of the shadows, and it was clear that this group was in for a fight.

I drew the blade that father gifted me as I became a man. I couldn’t help but think that he and mother would be proud of me: though I didn’t know these individuals, I was upholding the virtues instilled in me as a child.

I pulled my first swing, merely attempting to show that I meant business, but as I missed, I could feel Usarus’ rage coming over me. Father always taught me that if there was a way to settle a score without shedding blood, then to do so. However, the Spirit of the Forest was not as honorable, or at least not since the injustices that has fallen upon the Forest back home. His anger and fury bubbled like the stew from Mother’s cauldron.

The Heroic Valzan and the Angry Devil-Girl aided in the fight, and the Hooded Mystery Woman made sure to stand her ground, protecting the devil girl at all cost.

I could feel my body tensing up and my eyes radiating even brighter. My hands clenched the hilt of my blade ever-so-tightly, and I grit my teeth so tightly my gums began to bleed. I raised my blade high above my head, and I could hear my own voice inter-mingling with my Usarus’ as I bellowed, “YOU HAVE ANGERED THE SPIRIT OF THE FOREST!” My blade cut into the man in front me as if Usarus’ own razor sharp claw was mawing him. His torso was cleft in twain, and his blood sprayed across the brick walls between us.

I stood there, panting. I turned to see the spiritual visage of Usarus; he looked at the carnage and snorted, and then looked at me and nodded. It was as if the bloodshed pleased him.

I know that Usarus isn’t evil; he’s a protector. He can be gentle and kindhearted. He can even be playful. But lately his anger has overcome him, and he is becoming vengeful and stoic.

The other dispatched the other foe, and only one assailant remained. I had finally calmed down and rejoined reality.

Valzan literally scared the piss out of the man. I know for sure it was piss, I could smell it. But the fool decided to run. The Champiom Valzan took off and I followed. I liked his style, and desperately wanted to see how this ended.

By the time I caught up to them, the fool-hearty thug had gone limp on the ground, defeated.

Valzan complimented me, and I him. He then asked if I would take the bow shell of a man to something called the Church of Tyr. I asked what a Tyr was, but he just looked at me puzzled. I mean, I’d heard of churches, but had never been to one. Valzan was heading back to find the girls from the alley. I even tried asking the criminal now in a headlock under my arm who Tyr was, but he didn’t bother to answer.

Upon reaching the church, I was greeted by an elven woman named Alyssia. I took the man down stairs to the basement as instructed by Valzan and found out from Alyssia that apparently Tyr was a deity that she and Valzan worshipped. I had no idea that people worshipped deities! The people of my village thanked and served the Spirits like Usarus. I turned to ask Usarus about the deities, but he still wasn’t very talkative. I’m beginning to be worried about him at how long these bouts of stoicism were lasting.

Eventually my fateful allies made it to the Church and Alyssia offered us food. FOOD! Glorious food. The Devil-Girl, who was acting suspiciously cat-like, clearly wanted to eat, but was extremely timid. I tried offering her my father’s jerky, but she wasn’t having it. In retrospect, I may have knelt down and gotten a little too close when I offered.

After some convincing, the Hooded Mystery Woman convinced the Devil-Girl to eat. Later Valzan, the Mystery Woman, and myself descended to the basement to question our “guest”. Valzan asked if I wanted to be a “good cop or bad cop”, but I had no idea what that meant. He then asked if I wanted to hurt the captured criminal, and I obliged. I’m not a bad guy, but this man clearly was, and I’m pretty decent at hurting things.

Valzan poured water on the unconscious fellow, so I poured the whole barrel. Apparently that was not the way to go. Valzan payed the man a compliment, so I called him beautiful. Again, that was wrong. I could hear Usarus laughing at me, so I decided to let Valzan take the lead. The Hooded Mystery Woman held back, just watching.

The man was hired to “bring the Tiefling back to his employee”, but she had fought back and escaped. Fiery, that one, which is funny, what with her being a Devil-Girl and all. The man pleaded with Valzan and had decided to repent of his crimes and wanted to serve his time and be turned over to the authorities. I was stunned, but held my tongue, when Valzan went along with this. I mean, in the Forest, justice is decided by the strong and able creatures, and those who were weak and in the wrong suffered. But, Valzan was showing mercy. It was refreshing, honestly. I had shed quite a bit of blood in the name of “Justice”. So Valzan took the man to the proper authorities.

Upon his returning, Valzan and Alyssia explained what this church was, a place for the wronged where they could find peace and justice. They offered to let the Devil-Girl a home there. They assured her that she would be safe, fed, clothed, and that she would have her justice. The Devil-Girl seemed uneasy, and then the Hooded Mystery Woman spoke up and approached her, and for the first time, I could see the Devil-Girl resting easy, or at least somewhat. This Hooded Mystery Woman was helping her feel more comfortable.

So for the next week we all stayed together.

The Hooded Mystery Woman, or Strive as I found out her name was, seemed to have an affinity for caring for this Devil-Girl, who we took to calling her Shadow since she was glued to Strive like she was her personal Shadow. Valzan and Alyssia continued to be hospitable and accomplidating to us, as well as patrolling the streets to find evidence of the wrong-doers who descended on our little Shadow.

As for me, I just rested. I had been on such a long journey and constantly on the move that it was nice to just sit and catch my breath. Usarus finally spoke again and told me to stay put. “This group will help you find answers.” At night I would sift through the memories of my ancestors with the aid of Usarus, searching for any answers there may be for the plague that is descending on my home.

We eventually decided to leave the church and spread our wings. Alyssia stayed at the church, but Valzan served as our guide. He led us to an axe throwing game that I technically won, but decided to be chivalrous and neglected to accept the prize.....

Valzan accepted the prize offered which came in the form of free drinks at a near by tavern, which apparently is where a woman works that Valzan desperately needs to speak with. Shadow also stumbled upon some shiny glass. She liked shiny things. She reached for the glass, but Strive stopped her and Valzan offered a shiny bauble instead.

We first went to a library, which was recommended to stop at by Strive. I was happy to go, actually. I was able to ask the librarian about plagues and magics that affect plant life, and found a book on the history of plagues. I over heard Strive ask about herbalism and curitive properties and turned to Usarus. I said that she could help us, and he agreed. Finally, something to go on!

I approached her and asked about her help with my quest, and told her that I felt she was key. I blushed as I realized this may sound like I was courting her. I then stumbled over my words and finally walked away. I turned and yelled Usarus, exclaiming that he could’ve stopped me. He laughed. She laughed. I walked and check out my book, hanging my head in embarrassments shame. There was something about that woman, and it left me with my words tangled and trampled on the ground.

We then found an exotic pet store, but soon left after finding out that the OWNER WAS AN EVIL MAN! No bears?! Fine. But hedge-hogs are bear like?? USE SQUIRRELS AS BAIT!?! What a monster! I turned to Shadow and said we should leave! It was traumatic for us all.

We finally made it to the tavern on the top of the hill. We entered and Shadow immediately went to a table. The rest of us followed and soon the very woman Valzan had saught after came to take our orders. I ordered all of the sweets they had in an attempt to win over Shadow, and after Valzan asking to speak to the woman alone, we had our food and Valzan was asked to wait until things weren’t as busy. We sat and began to enjoy our food, but suddenly an elderly unkept man burst through the door, exclaiming that his daughter had been taken. Our group began to ask for details, when the entire tavern erupted in laughter.

Things are getting strange.....

[klarkkent71]

TRAGEDY & VERSATILITY

September 8 2019

I still have more content about places to visit and other experiences but these will be my last set of poems until after vacation

TRAGEDY SERIES

 HELL(Dedicated to the victims of mass shootings)

I hate it for you and in the back of my mind I’m feeling bitter yet so numb

Thinking to myself what has this world become to where we cant control those with the guns.

I want to write to my congressman and let out rage but he won’t listen because the lobbyist pay him funds

One shooting after the next more parents crying over a loved one

And to those committing the acts, my only question is why

Hatred, mental illness, jealousy, to understand I can’t try but to express my anger and say we do need change is a fight where I won’t be shy

Just know that I’m tired of innocent angels gaining their wings from others may they rest in peace in that place pass the sky.

 PAIN

I look up to the sky and ask God why do the weather he gives add pain

Strong winds and natural disaster leads to another life that changed.

And what I’m discussing is beyond the times of Noah and the boat

But more on modern-day horrors such as seeing dead bodies of victims who just float

Or these fires that just burn through the western parts of the state.

I can only wish grace and mercy and pray for others and their fate

To lose everything in one instance I can fathom the weight

 CUPID TEARS

I dreamed at night that we were together and woke up and nothing was there

I put you on my mind and fell back asleep thinking I don’t have a care

In the midst of it all I played everything in the back of my mind

One memory after the next of when you used to be mine

But now I’m just an empty shell sitting sad and alone wishing you were here.

I felt myself crying at one point and letting it all out thinking to myself this must be Cupid tears

 BLACK HEROES

United we stand and divided we fall

An era of great leaders once chosen to answer the call

But with hope and courage comes a threat to their way of life

We preach to love your fellow man at times and do what’s right

Unless that man comes from a different creed and get singled out

You stand up and fight for your freedom that’s what it’s about

But to see the vision come true was something you kept in your head.

They say you were a threat and wanted to make a change by any means now you’re dead

And now the vision you fought for happened but the people divided

Trapped in the constraints of Willie Lynch with no guidance provided

We off the plantation now though and back in the hood

Thinking to ourselves life is good when in reality we’re trapped.

None trusting of our own so we stay strapped

We have colored skinned but we divided by color

You wear red or blue you now an enemy even though you’re my brother

Let's talk about the impact now that drugs had

Shit, Sad.

 QUESTION 2

Will the world ever be at peace

 TRAPPED(dedicated to those who afraid to be who they are)

Because we live in a traditional society you feel belittled for who you love

Bible goers tell you your actions will get you sent to hell when it says in the book of Mathew not to judge

Those with a closed mind will shun you and not try to understand how you feel

Just tease you for being different and want you to think you’re mentally ill

So pressure builds up and now you feel all alone

Questioning the way you were born to feel and think that everything about you is wrong

So you see death as an escape from it all

The thoughts grow stronger you thinking of multiple pills or blowing your brains on the wall.

I get sick of society and the pressures that others get to where they can’t be themselves

I pray that you find peace before it’s too late.

 INTERLUDE

Love hurts but I’m grateful and feeling something and that’s alive.  I'm feeling hopeful that I can be torn and put back together.  In some instance even stronger than before.  I honestly think that beautiful things can happen when others get completely torn down at times

 VERSATILITY SERIES

Untiled

I look into your eyes and just get lost

Your chin is on my chest and you’re looking at me like I’m everything in your world

When it comes to spending time with you no matter the distance I’ll pay the cost

Our hearts beat as one and you’re my dream girl

Though the love will always remain the time of being in love been came to end

No titles or constant communication, in reality, we’re not even friends

And now I just hold on to the memories.

I look down at my phone wishing it was you

Wishing one last time I can hug and kiss you

I’ll tell you deep down inside how much I truly love and miss you

But I don’t

I just stare at a blank screen and smile at the notification from you accidentally liking something

 A PAGE

I go hard for my last name so grinding to get after my dreams is nothing

I was motivated from the start my whole life I been grinding and hustling

Early on I was placed in special classes until it was discovered that I couldn’t hear.

So many years achievements later and I'm more than what they thought and I’m still standing right here.

The crazy part about it is that I haven’t fully stepped into my potential and what I can really be

The vision is still clear and I’m still chasing one more degree

I’ve done others wrong in the past and apologized and let go

Thanking God for the changes and maturity along with the growth.

I ‘m proud of who I become

Once wanted to fit in until I learned to march to my own drum

I lived seasons where people came in and out my life to where I grew numb

I had those close to me steal funds when I would‘ve fed them a meal and ate the crumbs

But here I am remaining humble

BLUE WATER

I’m staring out thinking what’s beyond my vision

Blue water, calm waves, to see past it is my mission

Thinking just how freely and smooth what you have just flow

Easily in just many directions, you can just go

I honestly admire the vibe

Being in your presence I feel the high

 MY VIEW

I don’t care what your religious text says deep down this is how I feel

You claim your actions are saving souls from being killed

But the choice to me is with the beholder and not with the traditions they keep in Saudi

I’m stating this right now that a woman should have control of her body

It’s crazy we’re all birthed and come from a womb

 VOTED FOR THE DEVIL

On the night I found out the devil won I wasn't surprised at the outcome or what the world has become.

I just know that a nation which was built of sins of others found their chosen one

The fact we constantly divide makes the beast strong

I keep telling myself that it’s just temporary but the days keep getting longer

And to those with brown skin instead of providing help we build walls.

Lies after lies I’m not even shocked or appalled

Really I’m entertained by those so simple to believe the lies

Draft dodging, fornicating, grab her by the pussy, Russian meddling, and spies.

I’m gone wait to really unleash in the future

Frames

I found pictures and it immediately made my mind jump in the past

Still frames of happiness of when I thought everything we had would last

I saw a birthday cake with candles with you wearing a white coat standing on a chair

Memories ill keep forever in my heart they will always be rare

I see beaches, balls, and baby showers along with pictures at my parents after church

I thought these were memories ill never get back but found on my laptop during a random search

I found a random jump drive and placed every picture on it so they will be in one spot

Im forever grateful that I have a passion for photography because they bring back memories we all forgot

Even flashing back from the good to the bad the mood will be remembered by the faces and emotions in the frame and over 80% it’s smiles

This is the closing of one chapter of poetry and the introduction of the next my next set of poems that will be pulled directly from my heart will called simply “NATALIE”

Whenever I post “NATALIE” it’ll cover many poems but i wanted some of the intro posted

Intro to NATALIE

All black, I feel it’s the color that represented me for years

Now im stepping out on faith thinking to myself I cant believe I showed up and right here

I felt like rock bottom to be honest I’m out the house and stepping out from fear

Sitting here faking like I know the culture but let’s be real what black person drink beer 🤔

[nemowritesstuff]

Character Archetype Game Tag

Thanks to @waterfallwritings for the tag!

Rules: Pick up to three (3) of your characters and assign them an archetype or trope they fit. Then say why they don’t wholly fit that trope.

Archetypes for reference.

1: The Magician – Bookworm – Skill and influence in the making

Bookworm is an engineering prodigy. Despite being only in her mid-twenties, she has proven capable of being the sole engineer on smaller ships. Her skillset has led to numerous job offers for high-class ships, but Bookworm chose to be a co-engineer on a small cargo ship. On the Wingless Dragon, there's nothing but experience to gain. And it's exactly experience she's after. Bookworm's ultimate goal is to captain her own ship, and instead of playing boot-licker on some large frigate, she wants actual experience running a ship so she can prove to her future crewmates that she's someone worth following.

She is a twist on this trope because she is not that skilled yet. Yes, she is a prodigy and graduated top of her class, but bookwork doesn't equate to actual experience. On top of that, as the rookie aboard the Wingless Dragon, she has zero influence when it comes to any decisions on the ship.

2: The Rebel – Sparrow – Old candle burnt from both ends

Sparrow lived a rough life. Abandoned by her parents for being autistic, a boy she looked up to turned her to a life of crime, drugs, and sex. After trying to turn her life around, a war crippled her husband and forced her to join the military. Fighting on the losing side of a war cost her a relationship with her daughter. Forced to join a bandit's crew to avoid death made her AWOL and prevented her from ever returning home. Sparrow has plenty of reasons to hate the system, and she makes her malicious mood known at every opportunity.

The twist here is that Sparrow is done fighting. Society has changed so much in the years after the war, everything she hated is almost gone. The change Sparrow so desperately wanted happened, and it did nothing to help repair her family. She's a rebel after the fight has been won, but everything she fought for is gone.

3: The Warrior – Gemstone – Fighting for the glory of others

Important context for Tichon and their beliefs

Tichon (imagine a 10ft tall isopod with either deep blue or turquoise shells) culture is divided into four segments: Ti, the breeders; Ch, the farmers and gatherers; On, the builders and soldiers; and Yuct, the isolated outcasts. Before joining the Galactic Alliance, the Yuct were seen as martyrs. Whenever a Tichon could no longer support the tribe or outside influences like famines strained resources, the old or injured may volunteer to become Yuct, helping the tribe by preventing themselves being a drain on resources. However, with an individual Tichon able to serve on a ship as a Ch or On, the Yuct have changed from being martyrs to useless Tichon who cannot even find jobs with other species.

This has created a religious crisis among the older Tichon. Tichon believe that their ancestors walk among them in the spiritual plane that mirrors our own. Tichon heroes and legends from the past also walk the spiritual plane, and any Tichon can ask their ancestors or the great legends for assistance in their current task. The main problem is that many Tichon legends are Yuct; as they chose to abandon the tribe for good, they are the Yuct ideal, putting the many above the few. But, as the perception of the Yuct has changed among the Tichon, the Yuct legends have started to been seen as selfish villains instead of virtuous heroes.

Context fulfilled. Onto the archetype!

Gemstone believes that the Yuct should not be hated, and calls himself Yuct to prove as much. While he is part of a small by prominent movement, many Tichon (and by extension, their employers and friends) look down on those who would voluntarily classify themselves as Yuct despite every opportunity to be Ch, or On. And still, Gemstone stands strong, unwavering in his believes and unerring in his conviction.

This twists the Warrior trope because Gemstone is fighting for people long gone, legends who are already in the spotlight. He seeks no personal glory, and would prefer to become another nameless Tichon when he passes to the spiritual plane.

Wingless Dragon Tag: @malaykawrites

Tagging for Play, if you want: @scottishhellhound @starlitesymphony @quilloftheclouds @royalbounties @silveredgedwriting @vhum @inexorableblob @kmjthatsall @writingonesdreams

[selfishsavior]

{ Master Profile }

True Name: Emiya Ritsuka

Nickname: Gudako

Sex: Female Age: 18 { Before Chaldea } - 19 { In Chaldea } Gender Identity: Gudako Orientation: Bisexual leaning heavily on Lesbian Alignment: Chaotic Good Height: 164cm (5'5") Race: Human Occupation: Master History:

Early Childhood

Gudako, or Ritsuka if you must call her by that name, is the daughter of third rate magus with survivor’s guilt by the name of Emiya Shriou and a young magus prodigy by the name of Tohsaka Rin.

During her early childhood she was already developing a dislike of her father because of how often he’d be away to “Save the world” or something along those lines, leaving Rin to pretty much raise her for most of the time together with their extended family.

Gudako truly loved her mother, who she had once openly declared to one day make her bride, and who, together with Aunty Taiga and Aunty Sakura, were the only real constant in her life, she loved all three of them and she loved when they would dote on her.

Friends could change, but family was forever… right?

Unfortunately for her… that wasn’t the case, because during one of the vast periods of time in which her father found himself away from home, trying to save some stranger, tragedy struck the life of a child much too young to have her life and family ripped away from her.

The Tragedy

All she can remember of that day was that she was playing around with Aunty Taiga, her mother was researching her magecraft down in her workshop, built under the house’s shed, when suddenly… her other aunt happened…

With hair white as chalk and blood red eyes filled with madness, Sakura that day had become something completely different from the aunt she remembered, advancing towards the child after walking in the living room covered in blood not her own, a long bloody trail following after her, for the first time Gudako felt true fear.

Taiga, who was with her at the time, tried to reach for Sakura, worried for the young woman who was like family to her, ended up being eaten alive by what looked like black mud emanating from Not Sakura’s actual shadow.

It was on that scene that Rin ran in, seeing her sister killing their old teacher looking nothing like the woman she used to know and reaching for her only daughter

When all was said and done, Gudako was alone inside of an empty home, her funny aunt eaten alive by black mud, her sweet aunt having turned into a monster wearing her skin and her mom disappearing with said monster in a flash of rainbow light, leaving her with the memory of her mother mouthing “I’m sorry” to her before disappearing together with her aunt and a jeweled sword abandoned on the floor where they once stood.

It was days later that Shirou would come home to find their lives destroyed and a broken daughter that felt more like a empty doll than a actual human being.

The only thing keeping him from ending his own life being the presence of his only daughter who now needed him more than ever.

Teenhood

After what had happened, its needless to say that Gudako was left broken from the ordeal, a state which lasted for years, she could smile but you could it was a empty one, being subjected to the aura of whatever that black mud had been had left her a empty shell unable to feel emotion, she would never be the same child she had been before the incident, that smile would never reach her eyes the same way it used to when spending time with her mother.

The only thing that was left in her shell of a human body was the resentment she felt toward the man who had left them to save strangers instead of his own family.

Shirou had tried to make amends for leaving when they had needed him most, trying to at least save his daughter in some way, like how Kiritsugu had once saved him.

But when seeing those empty eyes of hers, Shirou couldn’t help but be reminded of how he had been before Kiritsugu found him in that hell. How could he help her, when the only times that life would come back to those empty eyes were the times when they were filled with resentment, resentment directed right at him, and the worst part was that he really couldn’t blame her for it, for he too believed what happened was his fault. His fault for not being a better husband and father for his family and for not being there when they needed him, his distortion to save others costing him everything in the end.

Gudako has since then build herself a persona, a mask to hide how broken she truly was from the world, a coping mechanism she used to behave like a working member of society.

Taking inspiration from manga she found lying around, she began behaving like a perverted troll who would take joy from messing with people, how those manga found their way into their house though. was a mystery to both her and her father.

The more she behaved that way though, the easier and more natural it became for her to do so, so much so that somewhere down the line…

She suddenly realized that she could feel again, those perverted and trollish acts that she followed like a script to get a rise out of people, a identity she picked up from pure chance, something she took just cause it was the first thing she found...

They were making her feel again. The mask she had made for herself became mask no more, it had become who she truly was, and she loved it, to be able to feel anything but pure soul crushing emptiness and void felt like fucking ambrosia to her broken psyche.

She had become a hedonistic girl doing everything she wanted for her own sake and no one else’s and she couldn’t be happier for it.

Though, even now after everything, after somehow becoming the “script” she had written for her empty shell of a body, that broken girl still hides deep inside her heart and mind, an empty girl that would be forever a part of herself no matter how hard she would try to deny it.

A broken doll forever crying for the woman who meant the most to her.

Chaldea

She accepted Chaldea’s invite on a whim, she needed a new job to pay her expenses and things her father couldn’t afford to give her and being now an adult in the eyes of the law, felt like something she should at least try, and really its not like she had anything better to do, other than to spend the day away with one-night stands, drinking, or occupying herself with various hobbies, she still felt like she had more time than she knew what to do with so, why not?

She could have never expected that once there she would meet someone who she, despite having barely met them, would cause her try save them, literally pulling a page out of her father’s idiot book, almost killing herself to save another, just to be saved herself in the end by that very girl who somehow pulled at her atrophied heart strings.

They say heroes are not made. They say that they are born out of circumstances and rise to the occasion when needed.

She had never asked to be a hero, neither she wanted to become one, but when refusing to be one meant for her own existence to meet its end like the rest of humanity, there wasn’t much of a choice, was there?

Well, as long as the girls she summoned were cute, Gudako doubted she’ll be bored for a long time.

Alternate Timeline of Events for this Gudako’s universe:

2004 - Holy Grail War.  The ritual is won by Marisbury Animusphere and his servant Caster quickly overtaking the competition with sheer magical prowess and precognition...

Tohsaka Rin and Emiya Shirou were participants of this war who managed to get out alive. 2006 - Shirou and Rin have gotten together during the events of the war and live in London while attending the clock tower as Student and Teacher, both are 19 years old now. 2007 - Rin finds out she is pregnant with a girl and names her Ritsuka, she is born soon after moving back to Furyuki to take care of Rin's pregnancy with the help of their extended family and friends.

2015 - The Tragedy - While Shirou is away on the hunt for a apostle ancestor causing trouble in Europe, Matou Zouken decides to try forcefully turn Sakura into a full pseudo grail after the failure of the previous war, causing the girl’s mental state to break to the point of madness, killing Zouken in the process like the worm he is. Once freeing herself of the undead magus, Sakura goes immediately after Ritsuka and Rin, in her now broken mind, the family that Rin built with her Senpai should have been hers, she first mercilessly consumes Fujimura Taiga for being an annoyance, showing Rin how much she was truly gone and forcing her to sacrifice herself to save her child and take away the monster wearing her once sister’s skin. Ritsuka is 8

2017 - Ritsuka is 10, a empty shell, left over of her former self.

2021 - Finding some old manga books in their house, Ritsuka starts following them almost like a script to function in a society of real humans instead of unfeeling dolls like her, Ritsuka begins calling herself Gudako, after the manga’s titular character. Gudako is 14.

2023 -Realizing she could actually feel something other than soul crushing emptiness, Gudako soon becomes aware that the script she had made for herself had built to a new identity within her broken self. It would take years before she and her father realized she had somehow subconsciously self hypnotized herself for years by repeating the “script” that was Gudako, having accidentally activated her circuits during her trauma and creating the bud of self actualization for her new identity inside of her broken mind, making her sometime wonder if she’s even real or just the dream of some broken girl that would one day disappear once said girl woke up. Gudako is 16

2025 - Gudako is 18, living in Fuyuki and going through her life as edonistically as humanly possible and not much caring for the consequences of her actions, as a result getting the reputation of someone who’d sleep with anyone sporting a pair of tits.

2026 - Humanity’s history is changed, humans are extinct... Gudako escapes her demise by Joining Chaldea at the last second,FGO Begins.

[egg-o-matic]

I made a story with AI dungeon

You are Shaggy in the distant land of ANIME, you are hunting the king of this land to end WW3, you enter the kingdom and defeat the king. You have won! The war is over! But then your life changes when a strange man appears on screen and tells you that he can help you... I ask him "help me with what man?" "To be the greatest heroy EVER! "I am alredy that" "I can make you more powerful than anyone ever was!" "Why would you want to do that?" "Because I'm an EVIL Felinoide" "What does that even mean" "I do not serve evil man, and I am a god man, prepare to die man" You don't quite get what this all means, but the man seems very serious, so much so that you begin to get scared. Then a picture of a cat appears on the screen. I send the man to the shadow realm and begin to talk to the cat. "Who are you? "I am Shaggy man, I am the hero and god of the land" "Great, what are you doing here?" "I've been sent here to guide you man, so that you may learn the ways of being a god and help you on your quest to kill all evil" "now it is time to train to beat the meat ball man" You see yourself standing before a hungry Felinoide, but you feel no pain, you feel more power within you, you smash the Felinoide in half with one punch, destroying his helmet in the process. I revive him to make him stronger. The Felinoide angrily smashes you in the side of the head, you fall to the ground. You can feel your organs liquefying inside your body. "good you are stronger, but you can not kill me" You try to stand up, but a second Felinoide smashes you in the side of the head, knocking you out. "You must become strong man, only then shall you win" You awake again, in a daze. "time for you to have a weapon man" You look down and see your arm transformed into a sharp claw. You look again and see that you are now a Felinoide, standing on four clawed feet. "Now let's test this out!" I slash at him and smash through his thick carapace, killing him instantly. He didn't see it coming at all. Now with confidence I walk up to the next one and feel no fear. I feel a great satisfaction after killing my first monster. My father would be proud if he saw me now. I revive him once more "you can not die yet, it is your destiny to kill the meatballman, man" I pick him up with one hand "and now for number 5!" I walk past him and outside. I smell the air and something smells really good. It's the air above the village where the women and children are being held. "I will call you Jeremy, Jeremy, it is your desteny to kill the meatballman, now go man you are ready" I transform back into my normal self and walk into the village to kill the last two. It's night time now, but there is still light because of all the fires burning down the centre of the village. "Go now, save the people from him Jeremy" I hear Shaggy's voice in my head as I run down the path towards the village. Jeremy arrives at the village and sees his evil clone JOE lying dead on the ground. He picks him up by his shell and head and brings him back to his home "It's time to kill the real one!" He transforms back into his human form and runs into the center of town screaming "IT'S TIME!". JOE stands up and starts firing dark magic missiles from his eye-stalk. These hit Jeremy but he doesn't seem bothered by them "I'm stronger than him, I will kill him." He runs up to JOE and punches him in the jaw breaking it, then punches him again, and again, and again... Jeremy manifests a Ghost like entity known as a stand that he can call at any time during battle, His stand is known as DRAGONS HEART, it is a man with a dragons head who breathes fire and punches fast enough to turn metal into dust. "It's powers are best used during fighting and focusing on your enemy, as it takes over more and more of your thinking process" he explains to you as he manifests it. JOE is turned to dust by DRAGONS HEART as it punches holes into his chest "It's not enough though..." he says as he turns to face you. You both punch each other in the face, breaking several teeth and dentals each. JOE's remaining form falls to the ground. JOE uses the last of his strength to pull out a demon from hell out it is Shadow Shaggy "Now kill this pathetic loser before I take back what is mine!" You punch him in the face too and DRAGONS HEART dissapears inside his body, he falls down on the ground unable to move. You walk up to him and stab him multiple times in his chest. DRAGONS HEART burst out of the body of Shadow Shaggy "The punishment for using a demonic creature is death" You hear the voice of Sinthinia say inside your head "No matter who wins or loses". You walk away from the scene and sit down beside one of the many village fires. Shadow Shaggy screams in pain as he burns in the remains of the ruined village "He was going to take my life-experience! I had my future planned out!" "Sorry about that" You hear Sinthinia say "But if you are interested he will be able to experience life after death, along with everyone else." "I must now go to save the people" says Jeremy "I know what you must be feeling" You watch as he runs towards the village entrance, telling you to wait as he enters alone. The screams of terror coming from within tell you what you need to know... After an hour has passed you head towards the village yourself. As I enter the village I discover my rival Shadow Shaggy is trying to kill Jeremy, I Shaggy kill Shadow Shaddy in one blow "Sorry about this." He says "I couldn't let him kill the Father of the New World before me." "what the hell are you talking about man, you are a demon you have no family man" "The only family I need is standing right here" A woman appears beside you "And yes, I am your family" She embraces you as a brother would do another and a kiss is shared between you two. "wait man, are you my brother?" "Yes" you and your Sister both reply. "So um, does this mean you can explain what is happening?" Jeremy leaves to Kill the MeatballMan while You tell Your sister everything, including how you know her. "You see me in a new light since you got saved" she says "And I see you in a new light since you met your sister." You smile at that comment "So what is going on?" Shaggy dissapeers with his fammily and Jeremy reaches MeatballMan's Tower of Death. He meets the God Killer Xenophon in person. The result is unknown, but everyone (including Sinthinia) hopes that he will win. After a battle told in legends Jeremy wins and take Xenophon's weapon, the legendary Sword of Dragon's Heart, against all logic he will most probably kill Xenophon with it! Later Jeremy manifests DRAGONS HEART and then uses the power of the sword and his stand to finish the battle off, killing Xenophon. He turns to you "Now what? "I will now finish the job, I will kill the Meatball Man" I head into the tower and see the Meatball Man I am at the end of my quest! The monster that destroyed my old world has been destroyed, the world is ready for its next evolution! I attack the Meatball Man with all my might, he dies in one blow sending me falling from the tower due to its height, I break my fall with Stand while laughing "Ha ha! Finally dead!" Then suddenly Sinthinia appears in front of me "Finally we meet again, but this time you die!" "what do you mean?" She grabs my hand and your powers increase once more as you are teleported to your final battle, where you will have to face all your enemies in one final battle... Thanos appears and snaps all of them away from you before throwing them into the distance, you head to your stand and begin to prepare yourself for the final battle. You need to kill: Your enemies are closer than ever before, there is no escape and death is near... But before I can do anything Shaggy appears to help, he says "You did your job man, now time I do mine, run I will sacrifice myself so you can live" He gives you a big smile and runs into battle, right into the center of the enemy's forces. As you watch him fight you think about how you should deal with him. "NO SHAGGY, DON'T DO IT" You yell "YOU MUST STAY WITH THE MAIDENS!" But it's too late he is already in the middle of the fighting leaving you no choice but to enter the middle of the battlefield to face your enemies yourself. Shaggy teleports you very far away, you hear him say in your head "Goodbye... Kid... Take care of the world for me..." You teleport behind your enemies and kill them one by one, making sure to keep track of your surroundings. The battle is far from over yet though. but it was an illusion, the tower is gone and all of them dead, you have won... but at what cost? Suddenly Sinthinia rose out of the ashes in an angelic form, this is the true FINALE: a beautiful angelic Sinthinia attempts to kill you while singing a lullaby. The battle causes the two of you to fall off the side of a mountain. I grab my sword and using all I've got and all of Shaggy's power I seal her away in the sword so she can never hurt anyone ever again. Then I realize I have to finish the fight with the MeatballMan who attacked me out of nowhere while I was dealing with Sinthinia. This fight will be close... Then I realize it was an illusion and the battle is finally over, I look down at the ground. I see my sword stuck in a giant pillar made of stone. I don't see Shaggy though, maybe he won, but I sure didn't.

[thisdaynews]

Trump was supposed to give a speech on energy. He went way off script.

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/trump-was-supposed-to-give-a-speech-on-energy-he-went-way-off-script/

Trump was supposed to give a speech on energy. He went way off script.

poster=”https://static.politico.com/7e/7c/19d90b984b4e88e471e48b1672e8/trump-energy.png”

true

President Donald Trump on Tuesday headed to a Shell petrochemicals plant being built outside Pittsburgh to give what was billed by the White House as a speech on “America’s Energy Dominance and Manufacturing Revival.”

But the hourlong address was light on energy policy and heavy on stump speech material and off-script riffs, as Trump touched on everything from his love of trucks to his assessment of his potential 2020 rivals. The meandering speech came on a day when the president had already attacked a CNN anchor, endorsed a controversial World Series hero’s potential congressional bid and defended his parroting of a conspiracy theory concerning the apparent suicide of his onetime friend Jeffrey Epstein.

Story Continued Below

Here are some of Trump’s most off-key comments:

On the supposed benefits of natural gas over renewable energy:“When the wind stops blowing, it doesn’t make any difference does it? Unlike those big windmills that destroy everybody’s property values, kill all the birds. One day the environmentalists are going to tell us what’s going on with that. And then all of a sudden it stops. The wind and the televisions go off. And your wives and husbands say: ‘Darling, I want to watch Donald Trump on television tonight. But the wind stopped blowing and I can’t watch. There’s no electricity in the house, darling.’”

On his construction chops:“I was a good builder. I built good. I love building; in fact, I’m going to take a tour of the site.”

On doing some campaigning:“I’m going to speak to some of your union leaders to say, ‘I hope you’re going to support Trump, OK?’ And if they don’t, vote ‘em the hell out of office because they’re not doing their job — it’s true.”

On his love of trucks:“I love cranes, I love trucks of all types. Even when I was a little boy at 4 years old, my mother would say, ‘You love trucks.’ I do, I always loved trucks, I still do. Nothing changes — sometimes you know you might become president, but nothing changes — I still love trucks. Especially when I look at the largest crane in the world, that’s very cool. You think I’ll get to operate it? We’ll put the media on it and I’ll give them a little ride, right?”

On pundits suggesting he might not leave office willingly:“Can you imagine if I got a fair press? I mean, we’re leading without it; can you imagine if these people treated me fairly? The election would be over. Have they ever called off an election before? Just said, ‘Look just let’s go, go on four more years.’ You want to really drive them crazy? Go to #ThirdTerm, #FourthTerm — you’ll drive them totally crazy.”

On what Trump perceives as a trade imbalance with Japan:“They send us thousands and thousands — millions of cars, we send them wheat. Wheat. That’s not a good deal. And they don’t even want our wheat. They do it because they want us to at least feel that we’re OK, you know, they do it to make us feel good.” This assertion is false.

On the price tag of the presidency:“This thing is costing me a fortune, being president. Somebody said, ‘Oh, he might have rented a room to a man from Saudi Arabia for $500.’ What about the $5 billion that I’ll lose — you know, it’s probably going to cost me, including, upside, downside, lawyers, because every day they sue me for something. These are the most litigious people. It’s probably costing me from $3 to $5 billion for the pleasure of being — and I couldn’t care less, I don’t care. You know if you’re wealthy, it doesn’t matter. I just want to do a great job.”

On his pledge to salvage manufacturing jobs:“You guys, I don’t know what the hell you’re going to do. You don’t want to make widgets, right? You don’t want to make — do you want to learn how to make a computer? A little tiny piece of stuff. … You put it with those big, beautiful hands of yours like … you’re going to take these big hands, going to take this little tiny part. You’re going to go home, ‘Alice this is a tough job.’ Nah, you want to make steel, and you want to dig coal — that’s what you want to do!”

On the number of members of the media at the event, at about 2:45 p.m.:“That’s a lot people back there for, like, an 11 o’clock speech. That’s a lot of people.”

On the Oscars:“Like the Academy Awards during the day, it used to be — you know the Academy Awards is on hard times now, you know that right? Nobody wants to watch it. You know why? Because they started taking us on, everyone got tired of it. It’s amazing. That used to be second after the Super Bowl, and then all of a sudden now it’s just another show because people got tired of people getting up and making fools of themselves and disrespecting the people in this room and the people that won the election in 2016.”

On attacking Sen. Elizabeth Warren and former Vice President Joe Biden, potential 2020 rivals:“I did it very early with Pocahontas, I should have probably waited. She’s staging a comeback on Sleepy Joe. I don’t know who’s going to win, but we’ll have to hit Pocahontas very hard again if she does win. But she’s staging a little bit of a comeback. What a group — Pocahontas and Sleepy Joe.”

On Mexico deploying soldiers to stem the flow of Central American migrants:“I want to thank Mexico, it’s incredible. We have close to 27,000, you think of that. We never had three — I think we had about 2½ soldiers, one was sitting down all the time. We had nobody.”

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The Obama years: novelists assess his legacy

Expectations were sky high when Barack Obama was elected president in 2008. As his term is coming to an end, has he disillusioned or delivered? Novelists in America evaluate him

Tobias Wolff: The coolness of his style contribute to a lack of praise for what he has achieved

Tobias Wolff is best known for his memoir This Boys Life , which won the Los Angeles Times book award for biography. His 1984 novella, The Barracks Thief , won the Pen/ Faulkner award for fiction. He was the director of creative writing at Stanford from 2000 to 2002 and received a National Medal of Arts from the president in 2015.

Our nominees for chairwoman campaign as if theyre operating for king, and not just any monarch no quaint, hospital-touring symbol of national unity , no mere figurehead answerable to a constitution and a popular assembly. Congress? Whats that? If elected, our American candidate will, like an absolute ruler, resolve the thorniest problems of state simply by exerting his( or her !) will. Is the domestic economy on fire, and about to spread to our neighbours? He will fix it, because he knows how. Students drowning in debt? Hell induce college free! Islamic jihadists taking over cities in Syria and Iraq? Hell carpet bomb them until we find out if sand[ and innocent civilians] can glow.

Tobias Wolff: Despite my years, I believed in Obama believed not only that he meant what he said, but that he could get it done. Photograph: Murdo MacLeod for the Observer

Do suspected terrorists know more than theyre telling? Hell have them tortured till they sing like Pavarotti, and kill their families into the bargain, and the army will just have to suck it up and do what he says, even if they say they wont, and have the law to back them up. Law? Whats that? Shell ban assault weapons; hell make sure you can take them to church.

The promise of immediate and radical change is a campaign fiction presented with such bald-faced effrontery that we scarcely question it any more, unless its coming from the other side. Indeed, the performance cant be sustained unless we support it with our credulity, like a tentful of rubes gaping at the tricks of a carnival magician, even offering ourselves up as subjects.

The wishful thinking that is the source of this credulity is, of course, a prelude to disappointment if our nominee actually gets elected. Take the case of nominee Barack Obama. He was going to get us out of Iraq and Afghanistan, and close Guantnamo. He would save our failing economy, mend our breach healthcare system, and legislate sensible gun control legislation. He would overhaul our immigration system, address climate change with meaningful policies, and change the bilious tone of our political discourse. We werent a nation of red states and blue nations, he reminded us: we were the United States. Despite my years, I believed believed not only that he entailed what he said, but that he could get it done.

My wife and I collected several friends on a November night in 2008, and watched with elation and incredulity as this young, literary, ironical human with a Kenyan father was elected to the presidency. Some of us had tears in our eyes. I was one. But as time went on those tears began to burn. He wasnt get it done, or so it seemed to me. Guantnamo was still in business. The planet maintained heating up, and the wars dragged on, though increasingly waged by special forces. As before, just about anybody was free to walk into a firearm store and come out armed, and each year some 30,000 Americans continued to pay for that liberty with their lives.

And the tone of political life had become even more toxic than before the election. During President Obamas first State of the Union address, a congressman from South Carolina screamed: You lie ! and became a Republican hero, even as the leaders of that party dedicated themselves to obstructing President Obamas legislative initiatives and judicial appointments, effectively incapacitating the governmental forces in order, as the senate majority leader shamelessly admitted, to build Obama a one-term chairman. The birthers continued to question his legitimacy, and, further, to imply that he was a secret Muslim and supporter of Isis. He was Hitler. He was Lenin.

Obamacare supporters react to the US Supreme Court decision to uphold President Obamas health care statute, 28 June, 2012, Washington, DC. Photograph: Mark Wilson/ Getty Images

None of this of this was Obamas fault. Indeed, he reacted to the unrelenting river of slander and congressional malfeasance with unflappable pacify and an air of faintly amused detachment. And for that I did blame him. The coolness I had admired during his campaign became an irritant. In fact, it drove me kind of crazy. Why didnt he fight back? Show some rage at what was truly outrageous, the obstruction, the name-calling, the attacks on Michelle Obama for encouraging schools to serve healthy food, even for occasionally wearing garments that presented her arms? Call these liars and bullies out, damn it! Politics is mud wrestling, did he not understand that? And if he really didnt feel anger, then why not take some acting lessons, and fake it?

Well, I was wrong. As Barack Obama prepares to leave office, I think about what he managed to do in the face of implacable resistance. No, he didnt close Guantnamo; the Republican congress wouldnt let him , nor would they let him bring sanity to our firearm laws, or to our immigration policies. But as most economists agree, his financial initiatives, narrowly approved, did save us from a profound recession, perhaps even a depression. His successful automobile industry bailout, fiercely contested at the time, saved countless chores at almost no expenditure to the taxpayer. If Obama couldnt wholly extricate us from the wars he inherited, he has refrained from miring us in new wars, despite being constantly urged to do so by congressmen and senators who otherwise refuse to expend taxation dollars on, say, education, or roads, or environmental safeguards.

Finally, 20 million Americans who did not have health insurance when Barack Obama took office have it now; and in spite of dire Republican predictions, and umpteen voting in favour of repeal, it has actually lowered the healthcare cost inflation rate. No one in this country, however poor, or sick, need be without insurance. This achievement eluded Theodore Roosevelt and Bill Clinton, among others.

So why has Obama not been celebrated for what hes done? Why did so many of us so often feel a sense of impatience, even letdown? I believe it comes down to immaturity in us , not him. At least part of the reason for our failure to recognise and kudo what hes accomplished has to do with his style that coolness. He doesnt brag, or gloating. He doesnt call attention to himself, or extol his deeds in the streets, or ridicule those who resist him. But we wanted him to. We wanted hot. We wanted rage, slashing rhetoric, mock. We wanted him to call liars liars, idiots moronics. We wanted him to bully the bullies. We wanted him to wage war, and crow over his fallen adversaries. And because we did not get the melodrama we demanded, we lost the plot.

But now we have a candidate who will give us all the sound and fury we could ask for, or imagine. Lets see how we like it. Me, Im already nostalgic for Obama.

Akhil Sharma Now I am much less tolerant of white stupidity

Akhil Sharma: I understood the tenderness on the faces as hope. Photograph: Tim Knox

Akhil Sharma is the author of the 2015 Folio prize-winning novel Family Life as well as An Obedient Father , for which he won the 2001 Hemingway Foundation/ PEN awarding. Born in India, he moved to the US as a child and he is currently an assistant professor of creative writing at Rutgers University-Newark. His short story Cosmopolitan was was transformed into a 2003 movie of the same name .

At the Times Square subway stop there is an electronics good store with TVs in the windows. For perhaps the first two years of the Obama presidency, one of the TVs was constantly demonstrating Obama swearing the oath of office. Always there was a small knot of black people standing before the window, looking at the Tv tenderly.

I am Indian and I have experienced some racism in America but I did not experience Obamas inauguration or presidency as some great promise going true.

When I saw the knot of black people watching the inauguration, what I felt was embarrassment. I understood the tenderness on the faces as hope. That things would change. To me, it seemed obvious that things would not change. That racism and anxiety of others getting ahead is so deeply rooted in the white American psyche that there was bound to be a backlash. To me, the tenderness seemed as though people believing a lie they urgently wanted to believe.

In eight years a person can change quite a bit and, to me now, that tenderness I insured is not hope but exhilaration. There can be exhilaration in the moment and one can be joyful without expressed his belief that things will necessarily get much better. To me now, those black people standing before the window were smarter than I was in that they chose to enjoy their happiness.

One other style that I have experienced the Obama presidency is that I have begun to be intolerant of certain types of stupidity from white people. My role is no longer to help them become comfy with racial the questions or to help them assure another point of view. My response to white idiocy now is to tell people to grow up. I have an acquaintance who was Obamas boss when Obama had just gotten out of college. My acquaintance, a white man, was deep irritated that Obama had become president and that he himself had not. I can certainly claim to my share of irrationality but when I heard this, it seemed to me a new level of bizarreness. Before the Obama presidency, if I had heard something so stupid I would have just giggled. Now I asked the man if he would have guessed this if Obama had been white?

Attica Locke: His healthcare reforms were humongous

Attica Locke: When Obama was elected I was stunned in my soul. Photo: Ulf Andersen/ Getty Images

Attica Locke was bear in Texas. Her first fiction, Black Water Rising , was nominated for a 2010 Edgar award, an NAACP Image award, and a Los Angeles Times book prize. Her second, The Cutting Season , was a national bestseller and win of the Ernest Gaines award for literature. She is an academy member for the Folio prize UK, as well as being on the board of directors for the Library Foundation of Los Angeles .

When Obama was elected, what I felt was bigger than pleasure though Im not sure I have a word for what it was. I remember watching the results on TV and telling over and over: Is this actually happening? Is this real? I merely couldnt take it in. I was stunned in my soul.

A few months later, I went to stay on a plantation in southern Louisiana, doing research for my second book. I was sleeping in a little cabin right by the field where slaves used to cut sugar cane. One night a storm was coming and you could hear the leaves rustling against one another, and it voiced to me like voices. I recollect talking to whatever spirits were out there and telling them: Your labour was not in vain. Everything you lived for was not in vain. And I felt a deep sense of hope hope beyond what was written on an electoral poster.

Has that hope been fulfilled? Not exactly. Dont get me wrong, there was never a part of me that thought we were going to get a post-racial society. Im not interested in living in a post-racial society. But I had a hope that we were about to move past the worst of our racial history. Right now, America is at a crossroads. The Obama presidency can move us forward, or we can backslide into racial intolerance and violence for good. One of the effects of Obama being elected is that there is a level of racism in America that can no longer be ignored. If a human like Barack Obama, so well-educated, so graceful, so intelligent, so charming, can be so vilified and denigrated on a daily basis in some parts of the country and in Congress( to the point that he can hardly do his job ), you can no longer as a normal American ignore the profound problem of race in this country.

Barack and Michelle Obama: Were just beginning to see what this man and his wife together are going to do for the country. Photograph: Rebecca Blackwell/ AP

There are a lot of well-meaning white folks who for years could not assure the breadth of racism in America, so I feel that one of the gifts of Obamas presidency a perverse gift is the fact it allowed a sickness to bubble up to the surface, like a boil on the skin. You cant treat what you cant see. And now that we see it, maybe theres a chance to treat this racial sickness for good.

As for my feelings about Obama, the man himself, I think hes done a lot of positive things. He got dumped with an economy in freefall in 2009 but hes managed to turn it around. And his healthcare reforms were humongous, as big to me as stuff that Lyndon Johnson did back in the 60 s, like creating Medicare. Of course hes done things that I do not agree with. I have a problem with the failure to close Guantnamo, I have a problem with drone ten-strikes around the world. But youre never going to like everything that any chairwoman does. What Im not going to do is hold Obama to a higher standard, where he has to be a magical negro who is perfect. Hes have been able to build missteps.

I think were just beginning to see what this man and his wife together are going to do for the country. Hes done what he can within the office of the presidency, but now I think he could be like Jimmy Carter, who has done some unbelievable run since leaving office. Were just seeing the beginning of Obamas power as a human being. As told to Killian Fox

Hari Kunzru: His rhetorical ability soothed the terror induced by his blackness

Hari Kunzru: His clearest legacy is symbolic. Photograph: Murdo Macleod for the Observer

British novelist Hari Kunzru left London for New York eight years ago. He was the recipient of the Betty Trask prize( 2002) and the Somerset Maugham award( 2003) for his debut novel, The Impressionist . His 2011 fiction, Gods Without Men , led to the coining of the genre translit: fictions that cross history and geography without being historical nor changing clairvoyant place( New York Times ).

The clearest legacy of the Obama presidency is symbolic. Its hard for non-Americans( and, indeed , non-whites) to understand the clairvoyant blow dealt to the nativist right by the ascent of a black man to the White House. That part of the Republican base that abandoned the Democrat after the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964, and which has been so irresponsibly pandered by the party of Lincoln, took the news like medieval villagers witnessing an eclipse. Weve now expends eight years watching Republican congressmen scurrying hither and thither brandishing pitchforks, outraged at the latest whiff of terrorist fist-bumpery.

The obstructionist opposition to Obama arrived tricked out in 18 th-century Founders drag, bewigged and buckle-shoed. Ostensibly they were angry that the framers of the constitution were being traduced by a stoner Kenyan community organiser, yet beneath the surface, their grievances often turned out to be rooted in the eroding of the racial deference that has been expected in this country since the days when Jefferson and Washington toured their slave quarterss.

The presence of a black first family in the White House, the nations lifestyle fishbowl, is just as symbolically powerful as the sight of a black husband and father shouldering the position of the presidency. In their immaculate media presentation, the Obamas have communicated themselves to the readers of the kind of publications found in supermarket checkouts as a family whose dignity and essential decency are well sheathed in the necessary American armour of glamour. Whoever wins the presidency in November, the first spouse will command a fraction of the respect that Michelle Obama enjoys. The sight of the two Obama daughters, young black females growing up with limitless aspirations in a caring home, begs a replies from a country where the number one cause of death for black females aged 15 -3 4 is homicide by a current or former partner.

Many of the young people driving the Black Lives Matter movement came of age during the course of its Obama presidency, their political consciousness formed by the 2008 election. For them, Obama turned out to be more hope than change, and his failure to speak in a full-throated route in their supporting has felt like a disloyalty, but once the thick rind of symbolism has been peeled, the president has always been a cautious centrist Democrat with an instinct for consensus , not a man likely to align himself with the politics of black power.

The drone war is considered in many parts of the world the administrations signal moral catastrophe: a US Air Force MQ-1B Predator drone at a secret air base in the Persian Gulf: Photo: John Moore/ Getty Images

In policy terms, the Obama legacy is mixed. The passing of the Affordable Care Act has curbed some of the more egregious iniquities of the dysfunctional US healthcare system, but hundreds of thousands of Americans still go bankrupt every year because of medical bills. Eight years after the financial crisis, the president has succeeded in keeping the wheels on American capitalism, but once the dust settled, it became clear that the crash accelerated the transfer of wealth from the middle class to the very rich, an injustice he has done nothing to address.

Middle Eastern policy has been rudderless. There were, to be honest , no good options available after the squalid disaster of the Bush wars, but Obamas vacillation about involvement helped make the chaos in Libya and the vacuum in Syria so ruthlessly are used by Isis and the Russians. He let red lines to be crossed without sanction. The droning war, to reflect on many parts of the world as the administrations signal moral disaster, has carried on with little serious domestic opponent. The failure to close Guantnamo is, in the scheme of things, the least of these failures. Merely time will tell whether the vaunted Iran bargain renders a harvest of peace and stability.

And yet Obama will be missed. Sometimes, out of his extensive rhetorical tool kit, the president pulls a weird folksy tone, a subliminal suggestion of Merle Haggard, designed , no doubt, to soothe the terror induced by his blackness. Desperate as it is to go on a psychic vacation in the magical kingdom of the post-racial, America will discover that it was lucky to have had a figure capable of such virtuosic code-switching, a man who demonstrated that it was possible to communicate across the lines.

Jayne Anne Phillips: Only by being who he is he has made an enormous impact

Jayne Anne Phillips: Obama has been a stealth president.

Guggenheim fellow Jayne Anne Phillips won the 1980 Sue Kaufman award for first fiction when she was only 26, for her debut volume of tales, Black Tickets. Twenty-one years later, her novel MotherKind won the Massachusetts Book award. She is the holder of two National Endowment for the Arts fellowships.

Obama has been a transformational chairperson, and this may not become altogether clear until he leaves office. People forget that where reference is assumed the presidency in 2009, he was handed a financial tragedy in the making and his response to it genuinely saved the country, and possibly the world, from financial breakdown. But hes done so much more. In the two years in which he had a Democratic Congress, he passed the Affordable Care Act and supervised a $36 bn dollar expansion in Pell Grants, which very much affects students at Rutgers University-Newark, where I direct the MFA programme.

Obama has been a stealth chairperson. Hes had to be: six years of his presidency have been completely stymie by the Republican. But hes managed to change energy policy, improve medical care and academic criteria, he changed dont ask, dont tell in the military and influenced awareness of LGBTQ issues both legally and in popular culture. He went to Cuba, he went to Hiroshima. He has worked hard to fight climate change. Solar energy production has increased 30 -fold since he became chairwoman. Jobs in the solar industry have grown exponentially, and hes resulting their attempts to phase out injury hydrofluorocarbons being implemented in air conditioning. His presidency has accomplished so much of which citizens are not aware. He has embraced executive actions, unwilling to accept the stasis Congress embodies.

Then theres the whole leadership occurrence. He cant objective combating racism and sexism in America, but just by being who he is, hes made an enormous impact. I think he is truly a visionary who is uniquely qualified to serve. Hes a biracial African American human who grew up in a white household. He came from a background of law and community organising. Hes an absolutely wonderful orator: funny, elegant and humane.

Same-sex wedding advocates in front of the supreme court in Washington, DC. Photograph: Jewel Samad/ AFP/ Getty Images

I suppose its clear that Im a big Obama fan and that this election year has been a psychedelic nightmare. Its like going from the sublime to if Trump is actually elected the ridiculously dangerous. Its a very strange time in this country and we can only hope that Trump will continue to implode. Hillary Clinton is exceptionally qualified and I guess shed be a good chairperson; American sexism plays a huge its participation in her supposed unlikability. She might not be as inspiring as Obama, shes not cool or chic, but she is such a policy wonk, so prepared and careful. And constant. Her priorities infants, families, justice are the same after 30 years. Yet she is suspected because she has breached the establishment. Im simply praying shell win. If Trump wins, therell be a lot of people in America trying to marry Canadians.

Obama has been a inspiring and provocative leader. The fact that this is more or less the consensus around the world genuinely matters, because it means hes not vulnerable to the sniping and griping, to the ridiculous run low , no, go lower tone that Trump has set in this election. I dont suppose anything will change the fact that Obamas presidency marks an honourable few years in American history. He is Trumps polar opposite. What a country this is, to fostering and succour two such opposite cultural/ political beings. The best and the worst have moved further and further apart; we are a totally divided nation. Those paradise moments the very surprising 2008 Obama election, the crowds, the alliances, the decency, charm and intelligence of it all exist alongside all that we are today endure. Its a world that merely a 24 -hour news cycle could love. What will Trump do or say next? Like everything Trump touches, its all about him. But I digress.

Desperation and chaos are distracting. How dark will it get? Regardless, Obama is not going away. The America that elected him twice is not going away either. Like Elvis, that America has left the building. Hopefully it will reappear on election day.

Read more: www.theguardian.com

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