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earthstellar · 3 years ago

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Transformers Analysis: Folklore and Folk Magic in the Mines of Kaon

thinking about Miner Megatron again, as always. here we goooo

So I've been doing some folk magic, as I usually do, and it got me thinking:

Surely, the lower class/caste bots wouldn’t feel welcomed into the more organised Cybertronian temples etc., or might even be outright banned from joining in shared spiritual spaces or rituals.

So it’s time to teach y’all some working class magic history and how we can apply that to Cybertronian spirituality:

Working Class History: Casting Spells on the Job (Just Call it Prayer so the Boss Doesn't Find Out)

Here's a quick history of rural Appalachian folk magic, for some context:

1) The Christian Bible has been used for spellcasting all up and down the rural East Coast in the USA from day one of colonisation.

In Pennsylvania you have Hexenmeisters and the Pennsylvania Dutch practices, for a well-documented example.

2) The working class has done spellcasting with the Bible from the very first day shitty bosses started

This is for several reasons, but primarily because Bibles were common and cheap, you didn't have to know how to read in order to follow along with or change the lyrics of popular hymns and prayers to fit your own needs, and it was very easy to sneak what is essentially localised witchcraft under the radar when it just looks like you're reading the Bible to everyone else.

Catholic materials were used a lot for this, because they were often provided for free by any local churches, and a lot of working class people in Appalachia were Italian (Roman Catholic) or Eastern European (Eastern Orthodox Catholic), which meant there was no shortage of all sorts of votive candles and the like to utilise for what we would now identify as spellcasting.

It's important to note that it wasn't called spellcasting outright by anybody; Sometimes it was called "hexing" or "sweet talking", among other terms, but if you called it spellcasting it was heavily frowned upon.

A lot of people were uncomfortable (and are still uncomfortable) with verbalising it or identifying it as such due to stigma from the more mainstream religious communities or their own religious backgrounds, and of course, historically if the boss found out that all the workers hated their jobs so much they were doing fucking witchcraft about it, it would not have ended well for the workers.

So, stealth it is. And that's why there are so many specific folk practices in a lot of historically working class rural regions/communities-- Not just in Appalachia, but similar things happen in similar communities around the world.

What does this have to do with Megatron?

Everything we know about the lower classes on Cybertron, the lower caste members, and the mines/industrial regions in Tarn and Kaon suggest that a similar folklore likely existed within these working communities.

And any local folk practices likely developed for the exact same reasons that this type of folk practice developed in the real world:

Workers are fucking miserable, "mainstream" religion isn't satisfying their spiritual/emotional/social/material needs or concerns, and close-knit people in small communities spending most of their time together naturally start to sort of do their own thing based on their collective situation.

People get desperate, there's nowhere to turn and nothing to do, so spirituality becomes a lifeline in that it builds solidarity and creates a more appropriate sort of support system.

For example: If we aren't allowed time off work to mourn our friend who was killed by heavy machinery, and we aren't allowed any time to process that or deal with it or take care of each other, then we will invent a ritual that allows us to grieve on the job.

This was, and still is, a common thing.

Which brings us to...

St. Barbara and the Mines + Solus Prime

St. Barbara's backstory can be summarised, roughly, as such (based on the version of this story that I know; keep in mind the details can vary):

She was kept isolated from others by her father, who became furious that she refused an arranged marriage. When she fled, he chased her; She ran into two people working in a field, the first who helped her, and the second who gave her path away to her father.

She was captured, and brought to a prominent local figure (the title varies based on different versions of this story), who had her tortured for escaping and disobeying her father.

However, when imprisoned, they tried to kill her again and again, and every morning she was healed. Fire intended to be used to burn her would cool the second it got near her skin, and daggers used to cut her would go dull when brought near her.

Snakes thrown into her room intended to bite her would then die the instant they went to approach her, and ropes intended to be used to bind and choke her would spontaneously fray and snap before they could be tied.

Eventually, she was condemned to beheading, and a special sword was used to cut her head off, which finally killed her.

Her father is the one who beheaded her, and as divine punishment, he was hit by lightning-- A single bolt that lasted so long that his entire body went up into flames, and his ashes disappeared.

Her gravesite became a place of veneration, where people prayed for protection and safety.

She became known as the patron saint of all people with dangerous jobs or jobs where the bosses don't care about the worker's wellbeing or safety, for obvious reasons: Nothing but the hands of her own father could ever harm her.

(The imagery of St. Barbara being slain only by a special sword is very reminiscent of Solus Prime being slain only by a special sword...)

Workers, especially those with particularly dangerous or shitty jobs but also just anyone working class in general, can interpret this story in several ways which can make it additionally relatable:

Her father = A controlling and aggressive boss who abuses or neglects their workers to death.

The field workers = A pro-union worker (a helper) and an anti-union worker or scab (a betrayer).

So you can see how St. Barbara became immediately adopted as a common worker's saint, and was used in a lot of regional working class folk magic practices (where such folk magic developed within local working communities).

And this is still going strong as a tradition; Crossrail tunnel borers in London consecrated the drilling site in the name of St. Barbara in 2013:

"Several hundred contractors and senior management attended the St Barbara's Day ceremony at the Thames Tunnel (pictured) which will link Plumstead and North Woolwich when completed. The site was so large, that sound engineers put in place an amplification system for the ceremony." - Article here.

"As a long-standing tradition, one of the first tasks for each new tunnelling projects is to establish a small shrine to Santa Barbara at the tunnel portal or at the underground junction into long tunnel headings. This is often followed with a dedication and an invocation to Santa Barbara for protection of all who work on the project during the construction period." - Article here.

And here's a related example of a worker's prayer for St. Barbara, from here:

So this is very much a tradition that is still going strong, and it isn't just Catholic workers who engage with these types of things!

To accommodate more diverse groups and communities of workers, folk practices (including what eventually becomes folk magic) increasingly develop even further away from any one specific religious origin, in order to become more inclusive for the majority of people who can be from all kinds of different spiritual or cultural backgrounds.

Hence, more folk magic is made-- And I believe something like this could absolutely have evolved in a similar way in working communities on Cybertron.

Cybertronian Spirituality: The Primes, The Knights, The Titans

My personal theory/headcanon, and there is not much in canon to support this particularly so please keep that in mind, is that given the average type of manual labour working environment in Tarn and Kaon (dangerous, dark, and deep), it would make sense for the legendary Titans to become worked into some kind of folk practice.

We have this concept of the Titans as these giant and very particular beings, which reminds me somewhat of the Jewish Golem of Prague, in that the Titans are made from raw materials in some kind of mystical or cosmically spiritual manner, then eventually ally themselves to at least one respective Prime who then acts as a director of their actions to achieve victory over cosmic evil(s).

The Titans then go forward and act as guardians of Cybertronian life by combating the origins of these cosmic evil(s) as protectors of their respective polities and regions and eventually colony worlds, called into action by what is essentially a metaphysical and possibly outright spiritual pull of the need of their Prime(s) and later on the needs of the Cybertronian and colony world populations in times of threat or desperation.

These details are peppered throughout canon and vary based on media/franchise, but most recently Titan lore was covered again in IDW’s Optimus Prime series, issue 10, literally titled Origin Myths.

What is interesting is that while the Golem association could be reasonably made, you could also reasonably say that the Three Original Titans (Metroplex, Chela, and Metrotitan) could be associated just as easily with the Catholic concept of the Holy Trinity.

Lots of different interpretations could be applied to this stuff!

Class Stratification Within Cybertronian Religious Institutions

No matter how you may interpret it, we know that the Titans have a similar mystical presence in Cybertronian history and cultural lore to that of the Primes and Knights, and it would make sense for those spurned and disparaged by "mainstream" spiritual practices (which were likely just as stratified by class and caste as everything else was on Cybertron during Megatron's youth) to go ahead and create a folk practice based more around Titans.

This is because the Primes would like be associated directly with their oppressive rulers and upper classes, and the Knights, who are said to be the first Cybertronians to come from the Well, thusly represent a very high class onto their own which may have repelled working class bots who were very likely sick of essentially worshipping those venerated in their class stratified society solely due to the conditions of their creation; The Knights were "born with silver spoons", essentially, and it's hard to sell that to people who suffered due to the conditions of their own creation.

Therefore, the Titans are the other most likely Cybertronian figures of historical lore that could reasonably be adapted into a sort of folk religion for the working classes and lower social caste bots.

The imagery is strong, and relatable: In Megatron's case, the manual labourers and miners all have large frames compared to the average Cybertronian, they all toil invisibly and in relative silence, and they are kept away from the end products of their labour and yet without them, Cybertron planet wide would instantly struggle to sustain their raw material demands.

They are critical workers, yet many of them have no names/designations; It is noted at least once in canon that some Titans are so old or so little known that their designations are not recorded. Yet without these unseen/unknown Titans, it could be the case that cosmic evil could have achieved victory.

While the Titans are critical, they are largely a mystery and unknown in any real detail. They do not normally engage with average Cybertronians, and when they do, it is usually indirectly-- Even though their actions actively impact the lives of nearly everyone.

And though the Primes and Knights are generally never physically present, at least not within living memory, there is real and physical proof of Titans. I feel like that aspect alone may well appeal more to people who are very physically oriented; We also see a stark realist mentality from many of the lower class/caste bots, who are sometimes realistic to the point of nihilism (which is part of why Megatron's writings were so revolutionary, in that they re-introduced hope to people who had previously concluded that there was no realistic possibility of ever rising up).

The Titans being a known, tangible physical reality may well have endeared them as a more interesting folkloric or spiritual focus to this particular cohort of bots.

Just like with St. Barbara in real life, you can see how the Titans may have been interpreted in certain ways by the lower class/caste working bots which may have made them more appealing or more easy to structure into a framework of sorts for their own practices within their local cultures.

A Little Meta: There's a Lot of Various Religious Imagery in Transformers

Like with all media, especially Western media, inevitably some Jesus sneaks in there.

Which usually sucks, because it can be alienating for literally anyone who isn't familiar with Christianity in some way (as some references or parallels are inevitably not going to be as obvious or even detectable at all to people who didn't grow up with all this sometimes very specific shit, resulting in missed thematic elements and so on due to no fault of the viewers but rather the tendency for Western shows to overwhelmingly be written and designed by primarily Western white middle aged cis straight men who tend to throw some Jesus in there when there should not necessarily be any Jesus in there, but I could yell about this all night).

Transformers as a franchise altogether is not immune to this; As with all media, it is made by people, and people are influenced by their social/cultural upbringing, and that includes religious influences.

We could read some of this into the TFP/Aligned Continuity, in regards to the idea of the Thirteen Primes and how that concept is interpreted in TFP.

Transformers Prime: Alpha Trion is Essentially Paul the Apostle

The TFP Primes resemble both the Apostles as well as various Saints, and especially the Fourteen Holy Helpers; These fourteen Saints in particular are elevated above the others in many cases and contexts-- Similar to how the Primes are held up as elevated over other Cybertronians and other figures in Cybertronian history and presumably within certain Cybertronian spiritual practices as well.

For example, Alpha Trion is strongly reminiscent of the Christian figure Paul the Apostle, who was a writer/scribe known for documenting early Christian concerns of faith in his letters, which became extremely important to theological historians in regards to determining early Christian discourse and attempting to create a timeline of early Christianity.

His letters are included the New Testament in thirteen (!) sections called epistles, which are archived forever in various iterations within the Christian Bible.

Now, let’s take a look at the symbolism, using the TFP main illustration of Alpha Trion as featured in the Covenant, and a popular Icon image of Paul the Apostle:

Beard, cloak, book-- Even the pose they are in here is very similar, look at the feet and the way they are both standing. Even the halo of Cybertronian glyphs around Alpha Trion’s head resembles the gold filament of Paul’s halo.

And much like Alpha Trion's questionable ability to write/re-write history and determine events through some kind of cosmically divine power of foresight, the timeline of Paul's letters will likely never be fully verifiable, and of course, there are so many translations and interpretations of these letters along with the rest of the New Testament that while key points remain fairly consistent, there is still no "true" version or exact outline of events or discussions as recorded by Paul-- Primarily because in at least a few cases, Paul's letters are the only allusion to certain events or conversations.

This is extremely similar to how Alpha Trion states outright in the Covenant that he himself doesn't know if what he writes is actually factual anymore, or if he has changed things so many times to try to construct a more favourable narrative of actions and events that reality itself may have been warped by his Quill, either forwards or backwards in time...

You could also argue that Alpha Trion is presented as a God-like figure in TFP (especially when he appears to Optimus in the form of an echoing voice and shimmering spectral figure in a vision caused by what is essentially the equivalent of a holy relic), and Orion Pax would then be comparable to Jesus pre-Crucifixion, with his reformatting into Optimus Prime post-Matrix heavily resembling Jesus in the eyes of his followers post-Resurrection.

The main cast of Autobots in this comparison would then roughly correspond to the Apostles, of whom there were twelve, with Optimus then making Thirteen... And of course, canonically, Optimus is the resurrection of the Thirteenth Prime.

You can also see visual similarities in the depiction of Thirteen in the Covenant; It reminds me heavily of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus:

Both have their right hands raised, their chests emitting a holy/cosmic light.

I'm just saying, it is totally possible to make connections between fictional lore/spiritual figures and real world ones, and TF is loaded with content that can be re-contextualised in this way.

(I also want to point out at this time that it is not my intention to offend anyone with any of this analysis; I am writing from the point of view of someone who grew up with folk spirituality, and I am also a Quaker Attender, just so you are aware of my own personal background. I would love to hear any other interpretations of any spiritual imagery in Transformers media, because there’s a ton of possible ways to read into this stuff!)

In Conclusion: Cast a Hex on Your Boss by Calling Upon the Titans

Just for fun, as someone who has actually done folk magic for my entire life, I've adapted a hex against bad bosses to fit this headcanon. I think this is something that lower class/caste bots would absolutely engage in; It's common in real life as well.

The original I'm basing this off of was actually something I found in one of our old family Bibles before I moved out, and was written in Girard, Pennsylvania sometime between 1920-1930. I believe it was written by a relative of mine who worked either on the farm or on the railways.

Remember that folk magic like this is for and by working class people, so there are no fancy supplies needed; Don't ever buy shit to do magic, you can do it with anything laying around you. No need to spend money.

If you have a shitty boss, please let me know if you hex your boss with this. I always encourage witchcraft, fictional or otherwise.

Here's what you do, if you want to actually try this:

1) Using any old paper that you have lying around, cut it roughly into a square (doesn't need to be perfect.) It doesn't matter what type of paper it is.

2) Grab any pen you like, it can be any type of pen, any type of ink.

3) Draw a square outline on the paper, making a border on the page. This can be big or small as you like, and you can decorate it if you want; Just leave enough space to write inside the square.

4) Fold this paper into a square, any way you'd like as long as it's a square, and take this paper while it's still blank to work in your pocket.

Carry the paper with you for at least one full day at work. If you can, place it in a chest pocket or a pocket where the paper will be fairly close to your body.

It doesn't matter if the paper gets dirty or smudged or torn; In fact, that's even better.

(Some people who do variations of this spell in real life even use the paper to wipe dirt off their hands etc. throughout the day, to really get the energy of a work day settled into the paper. As long as it can still be written on, you can do this if you'd like.)

5) At the end of the work day, take the paper out, and write the following:

Where I have put [X], the word "Lord" was in the original version of this hex which was in my family Bible, but to contextualise it within the fictional headcanon lore here, you can replace this with the word "Titan". (Or you can replace it with anything else that may be appropriate as well, if you would like to actually use this hex!)

"Give us pay for our work, or the poor will plea to the [X] against you, and you will be struck down, cast down.

If you do not give to those who give to you, you will be cursed coming in, and going out.

Just as the [X] can raise you up and lead you to prosper, so too can the [X] turn away from you, and you will be left to have your walls destroyed, your fortress ruined.

Us servants will rejoice, but you will cry out in anguish, you will be put to shame.

Without the toilers, the land is made desolate, the haunt of jackals.

[X], turn your gaze to us, we labourers of all kinds, see our tears and our sweat.

Lay curses upon those who use their hands to hold us down; Kept below water, our tears lost in the flood.

Raise the waters, and surge the shores of their ill-owned kingdom; Bring forth to their memory that the [X] stewards the land, and that all among the land are equal in spirit.

The [X] will cast fury upon the unrighteous and conniving, cast rage and stand among us mightily, each motion casting winds against the oppressor who weakens like fractured stone under the onslaught of rain.

The [X] will make a storm from our anguish, which brings us higher, raises us from desolation. Our tears, become the rain that withers the false tower looming high above us.

Our hands will raise from our tools and duties, and offer high praise to the [X], who guards the disparaged and lowly, who enacts justice against those who have done wrong against us.

Let us be brought high, and those who revel in our struggle, may they be cast down."

6) You may flip the paper over once the ink is dry, and on the back, put three Xs in the upper corners of the paper. You may also add three more XXXs to the centre of the paper, where the crease in the paper is from folding it.

7) Re-fold the paper, and put it in the bottom of your right shoe. If this is too uncomfortable, carry it in any pocket on your right side.

You can also place it in your wallet for safe keeping, as your wallet contains money and possibly a work ID or something similar, which are all tied to work and working.

And there you have it! Fuck shitty bosses, both fictional ones and real ones. Join a union, do some witchcraft.

This post was long as always, but I hope it's interesting to someone out there! <3 Thank you to anyone who actually reads through all of this! <3

#megatron #transformers #tfp #transformers prime #alpha trion #transformers meta #transformers analysis #long post #idw transformers #idw 1 #miner megatron #young megatron #maccadam #tw religion #working class history #witchcraft #spellcasting #hexing #solus prime

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samwisethewitch · 4 years ago

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Curses and Hexes

Cursing is one of the most ancient forms of magic — and one of the most controversial. Whereas most magic is constructive (used to manifest or attract things), cursing is destructive (used to cause misfortune or harm).

Technically speaking, curses and hexes are similar but different types of spells. A curse consists of written or spoken words, sometimes combined with gestures. A hex is a ritual involving material items. However, most modern witches use the terms interchangeably, as I do in this post.

The fastest way to start a debate in any witchy community is to bring up the topic of cursing. It seems like everyone has strong opinions on the subject, either for or against. For your practice, all that matters is what you believe.

So, When Is It Okay to Curse Someone?

This is a tricky question, and the answer depends on the witch.

There are some witches who believe that intentionally causing harm or misfortune to another person is always wrong, and will never cast curses for this reason. This is an entirely valid position! If you fall into this camp, know that you’re in good company.

Other witches believe that cursing is acceptable when it’s truly warranted by the situation, such as when your life or livelihood is in danger. Others believe that cursing is simply a means to an end, and can be done with good intention (cursing your friend’s unfaithful partner to get them to stop cheating, for example).

The one thing that most witches seem to agree on is that curses are serious stuff, and should not be taken lightly. Unlike other types of magic, curses are fueled by negative emotions like hate, anger, and heartbreak. This makes them very powerful, but also very draining for the witch casting them. Cursing someone means reliving any trauma you suffered at their hands in order to use those memories as fuel for the fire. Some people aren’t willing to put themselves through such an ordeal, which again, is entirely fair.

Because curses are fueled by such strong emotions, they’re powerful and volatile. They’re like the nitro fuel of witchcraft — if you don’t know what you’re doing and aren’t careful, someone could get seriously hurt. That someone could be you.

My personal view on cursing is essentially the same as my view on physical violence. It’s not the answer to all, or even most, problems, and it sometimes makes the situation worse instead of better. It should never be your first option, but it might very well be your last resort. If someone is holding you at gunpoint, you’re entitled to use violence to protect yourself. Likewise, if someone is putting you or a loved-one in life-threatening danger, you’re entitled to use whatever magical means necessary for protection.

Before You Curse

If you think there’s someone in your life who deserves to be cursed, go through the following criteria to decide if cursing is really the most appropriate action.

Sleep on it. When we’re in the heat of the moment, we sometimes say or do things we don’t mean. If you think you’re angry enough with someone to curse them, give it a couple of days before you reach for the vinegar and chili peppers. Give yourself time to cool off and clear your head. If, after a week, you still feel like a curse is warranted, move on to the next step.

Think about your own motives. Why do you want to curse this person? What did they do to make you angry enough that you’re willing to use magic to harm them in some way? If it’s a minor annoyance, like cutting you off in traffic, a curse probably isn’t appropriate. Likewise, if your motivations are petty or catty in nature — like cursing someone because they beat you out for a promotion — I highly encourage you to stop and do some self-reflection. For one thing, you may not be able to conjure enough genuine hatred and anger for an effective curse. For another, in these situations you may find it more helpful to do some work on yourself (working on anger issues, learning to gracefully accept failure, etc.) rather than lashing out at someone else.

Ask yourself if this situation matters in the long run. It may feel incredibly important now, but try to take a step back and look at the big picture. Will this person matter in a year? Five years? Ten? Are they important enough to warrant allowing yourself to channel enough negative energy for a curse? (If this person is putting your life, livelihood, or safety at risk, the answer to all of these questions is YES!)

Make sure your anger is directed at the right person. Who is really responsible for the pain you’re feeling? For example, if your significant other cheats on you, your first reaction may be to curse the person who “stole” them from you. But you aren’t really upset with this person — you’re hurt because your partner betrayed your trust. I’m not convinced that a cheating partner is a serious enough reason to cast a curse (again, will it really matter in ten years?) but if you decide to do so, at least make sure it’s directed at the person who is truly responsible for your pain.

Consider doing a banishing instead. In situations where a person is a danger to you or your loved ones, sometimes the best option is to give them a magical push out of your life. A banishing does what the name implies — it banishes a person or thing from your life. Unlike a curse, a banishing does not cause harm or misfortune to the person being targeted. It simply removes them from your life.

You can perform a simple yet effective banishing with a piece of paper, a pen, cayenne pepper, and dried lavender. Write the name of the person or thing you want to banish on the paper. Look down at the name and say, out loud, “[Name], you are no longer welcome in my life.” Sprinkle a bit of cayenne on the paper and instruct it to burn this person out of your life. Sprinkle a bit of lavender on the paper and instruct it to bring you peace and healing. Fold the paper up to create a little packet around the herbs, then take it outside and burn it to ash. (Be careful — cayenne smoke burns!) As the paper burns say, “I banish [name] from my life, never to return.” Scatter the leftover ashes on a busy road.

Consider doing a binding instead. Maybe you don’t necessarily need someone out of your life, but you do need to take away their power to cause harm. In this case, a binding is your best bet. A binding is a spell that “binds up” someone’s power, preventing them from taking certain actions. This can be useful for dealing with people who are toxic or abusive. Like a banishing, binding does not cause harm or misfortune to the target.

You can perform a simple binding charm with a photograph of your target, a pen, and red or black thread. Write your target’s full name (or as much of it as you know) across the bottom of the photo. Look down at the photo. Say, out loud, “[Name], I bind you. I bind up your power, so that you can no longer ______.” Fold the paper up as small as possible. Then, begin to wrap the thread around the folded paper. As you do, say, “[Name], I bind you.” Continue wrapping until the thread completely covers the paper — there should be no paper visible.

For whatever reason, some people seem to have a natural resistance to banishing and binding. You may find that your spell works for a while, but the person you tried to banish/bind eventually returns to their old ways. There’s some debate about why this happens — some say it’s because these people are narcissists or energy vampires, while others think it has something to do with their force of will. Personally, I think it’s because some people are so nasty and hateful that it takes nasty, hateful magic to get rid of them for good. If you find yourself dealing with one of these people, and your banishings and bindings aren’t sticking, you may want to move on to a full-fledged curse.

Creating an Effective Curse

Okay, you’ve done your self-reflection, you’ve considered or attempted a banishing and/or binding, and you still feel like cursing is your best/only option. In that case, here are some general guidelines for making sure that your curse is appropriate, effective, and ethical.

Be VERY specific. Don’t just lob a ball of negative energy at someone and expect it to do what you want. Be very, very clear about your intent for this curse. Use precise and specific language. Make it painfully obvious what you want to happen and how you want it to unfold.

For example, when writing a petition or incantation, don’t just say, “[Name] is cursed.” Instead use something like, “Should [Name] ever contact or harass me again, he/she/they is cursed. Let him/her/them feel what I have felt and suffer as I have suffered.” You could get even more specific and detailed if you wanted to, but the important thing is to establish some basic parameters for the powerful dark energy you’re unleashing.

Make sure the punishment fits the crime. A curse to cause sexual impotence probably isn’t appropriate for an abusive boss… unless that boss is sexually harassing their employees. In that case, sticking a few pins in a rotting cucumber may be just what the situation calls for. (Yes, that’s a real curse. Yes, the cucumber represents what you think it represents.)

Making sure the punishment fits the crime also means being honest about how serious of a curse is deserved. Do you really need to ruin this person’s life to get them out of your hair, or will a mild inconvenience do? As strange as the idea of a curse being fair sounds, avoiding overkill will not only maintain balance but will keep you from expending more energy than you have to.

Make sure your curse is only affecting your target and not anyone around them. When it comes to curses, family, friends, and coworkers can sometimes get caught in the crossfire. To avoid this, make sure your spell is targeted to a specific person by personalizing it as much as possible. Include photos of your target, their full legal name (or as much of their full name as you know), and a taglock if you can get it. You may even want to include a line in your petition or incantation specifying that this curse will only affect the desired target and not their friends and associates.

Set clear conditions/parameters. The most effective curses are situational. Think of it as laying an energetic trap in or around a certain situation — this is more efficient and uses up less of your energy than if you were to just cast a blanket curse that affects every area of the target’s life. Curse parameters take the form of, “If [name] does x, they will be met with y.”

Setting parameters also makes sure your curse is truly deserved. For example, maybe your friend has an abusive ex-spouse, and you want to use a curse to keep your friend safe. If the ex-spouse is already leaving your friend alone, there’s no reason for a curse. But if they aren’t leaving your friend alone, they deserve to be met with vicious, magical resistance. For this situation, you may want to use an incantation like, “Should [ex-spouse] ever approach or contact [your friend], they are cursed with discomfort, unrest, and legal trouble. Let them be hunted and put down like a rabid dog.” This ensures that if, at any point in the future, the ex-spouse starts harassing your friend again, the curse will immediately go into action.

Don’t attach yourself to the curse. Perhaps the most important part of cursing is making sure you keep the energy of the curse separate from your own energy. Revenge is a double-edged sword, so you need to take precautions to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.

Any time you cast a curse, you want to limit its connection to you as much as possible. Don’t include any of your own personal effects in the spell. You may also want to avoid using tools that hold a special place in your practice. For example, you may not want to use your altar as a place to craft curses. You may want to use materials that can be disposed of easily. Make sure to dispose of curse remains somewhere outside your home, such as at a busy road.

After casting a curse, it’s important to set aside some time for self-care. Start with a thorough cleansing. This can be as simple as taking a bath in salt water (or dumping a bucket of salt water over your head in the shower, if you don’t have a tub), but if you would rather do a full-fledged cleansing ritual, even better! It’s important to do something to remove any lingering negativity from your energy field, and to make sure the curse doesn’t attach to you in any way.

Cursing is intense, emotional, draining work. After casting a curse, take at least a few hours to rest and be kind to yourself. Eat your favorite foods. Take a nap. Read a book or watch a movie. Do whatever you need to do to make yourself feel good.

You may want to do some inner work after cursing to help process the intense emotions involved in this kind of magic. This can be journaling, meditation, energy work, or some other healing modality. If you’ve experienced serious trauma, you may want to consider speaking to a therapist or counselor in addition to doing work on your own.

Resources:

Utterly Wicked by Dorothy Morrison

Of Blood and Bones by Kate Freuler

New World Witchery podcast, “Episode 102 — Evil”

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littlemixnet · 3 years ago

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Jade Thirlwall on Little Mix babies, learning the art of self-love & her first foray into the world of beauty.

As she releases an astrology-inspired eyeshadow palette with Beauty Bay. “I suppose I've got quite a hectic life – or had quite a hectic life, before lockdown," Jade reflects as we chat on the phone one (surprisingly) chilly end-of-September morning. “But lockdown gave everyone a chance to reflect and think about their priorities – and so I’ve come out of that experience with even more of a drive and more of an ambition to achieve all of the things that I want.” Outside of music? For 28-year-old Jade Thirlwall – one third of record-breaking girl band Little Mix – making moves in the beauty industry sits high on that list of priorities. “Whenever we do videos, I’m always the one that sends mood boards to the makeup artist and I’m like, ‘Ohhh we should try this look and we should do this eye,'" she laughs. So teaming up with Beauty Bay to release a 42-pan eyeshadow palette inspired by her passion for crystals, spirituality and astrology (who knew?) seemed like a natural step. "I knew that together we could create my dream palette, something which my fans can use to create out of this world of lewks.” Speaking from her London apartment, Jade is relaxed, open and oozing with passion – for her life in Little Mix, her personal life and her upcoming beauty ventures alike. And not to mention: very happy the weather is turning, so she can roll-out her autumn-appropriate palette on post-lockdown nights out, pronto. “I’m a Northern winter girl. I like the cold. I like feeling snuggly. Yeah. Summer is not my vibe to be honest.” I love beauty – always have done from a very early age. This is a bit of a throwback, but I did a makeup course at college back in the day, so I’ve always had a love for makeup throughout the years. I think Little Mix have tried every single thing you can think of when it comes to different looks and trends. I think it’s known amongst my fans particularly that I love experimenting with colour. And I love the whole glam of it all and all the different eyeshadows. Every time I do a shoot or a video it’s a chance to do a different look – and I’m very versatile when it comes to that. So yeah, it felt like once me and Beauty Bay started working together, they are known for doing the best palettes, so it seemed right. Over the past couple of years especially, me and the girls have started delving into more of the things that we’re individually passionate about or into whilst working together, and it has been really lovely. We’re obviously really supportive of each other’s ventures, and I suppose it gives the fans more of a chance to see what we’re into ourselves. And it gives people that don’t really know a lot about Little Mix or about us individually, it gives those people a chance to be like oh, actually… so Jade is into this sort of thing and Leigh likes this sort of thing and Perrie is into that and… yeah. It has been lovely, and I suppose the last sort of year and a half has given us all a chance to reflect and think about the things we want to do on our own as well as in a group. I’m at a point now in my life that I’m definitely so comfortable in my own skin. I know exactly what works for me. I’m not afraid to try new things and experiment with colour and stuff like that. I think as someone who loves art and stuff in general as well it just sort of lends itself well. It's an art form to me, makeup, and expressing yourself that way is really amazing. So it felt really right [to collaborate on an eyeshadow palette with Beauty Bay]. I suppose lockdown – it has given everyone a chance to gain a better perspective of all the things that they're into. The best version of myself in terms of makeup is just elevating my natural beauty. I think everyone should do that! I think when I first started out in Little Mix and as a teenager, makeup was worn as a mask to cover who I really was, if that makes sense. And as I’ve got older, I’ve realised that it isn’t a mask; makeup is more of an expression of who you actually are, and it’s not to cover yourself up. It’s to elevate yourself. And so, now, whenever I do a look, I don’t tend to cake it on as much as I used to. I do things that accentuate my features already and don’t try and hide it. I think my go-to makeup on a night out or something is just a classic bronze-y beautiful eye. That’s my go-to because it suits my skin tone and I feel like nobody can go wrong with a lovely golden bronze-y eye. And that’s definitely in the palette. I think this palette was an opportunity to show everyone a bit more about myself that may be they didn’t know – like my love for crystals and healing crystals; my spirituality which is definitely something I’ve become more and more passionate about over the past few years. I needed something that kept me grounded and kept me well, mentally and physically. And so, spirituality became a part of that and I’m obsessed with crystals. My mam is obsessed with crystals and so that was one of the first thoughts when making the palette was incorporating all of that. And so, that’s kind of the original inspiration. I feel like the palette – it was important for me to have something for everyone, because I’m well aware that some people don’t like experimenting too much or some people love having loads of fun. So when I agreed to do this with Beauty Bay, I wanted to make sure it catered to every kind of person and every different skin tone. No matter how much you want to be adventurous or not, it’s all in there. I always have crystals with me wherever I am. Certain ones are catered to certain aspects of your life or what you need in that moment. I’ve labelled a couple of shades in the palette after my favourite ones – tourmaline is my favourite, which wards off any negativity. I think no matter how much people believe in it or not, just from a psychological perspective, for me, it’s all about grounding yourself. I think it’s really important to get rid of any negative energy and constantly keep the positive coming in. I suppose I don’t really have a specific religion so I use that as a means to believe in something greater than me and that works for me. There have definitely been a lot of changes in my life recently. A lot has happened. Obviously me and the girls are a three – two of the girls have just had babies so there's been a lot of change in my life. I’ve met someone, fallen in love, and all of that soppy stuff, so – yeah! It definitely feels like, more than ever, a lot has been happening all at once. But it’s so exciting and as we’ve said before, lockdown gave everyone a chance to reflect and think about their priorities and think about things they really want to focus on. I’ve come out of that experience with even more of a drive and more of an ambition to achieve all of the things that I want to achieve and be there more for my family and friends – and obviously go out more and wear more makeup! 'Cos I’ve spent a year and a half in the flat with nothing on and lounging around so it has been nice to start glamming up again. The other girls are loving being new mums, honestly they’ve taken to it so well. I always knew they’d be great mams, I went to see Leigh last week and met the twins who are so beautiful, they just slept the whole time – but you know what, it was so weird because all I’ve ever known is being round the girls and it being us and just us. And for the first time it's actually dawning on us that they’ve had children – actually seeing them there in front of us, like they’re real; it wasn’t a prop. I feel like because of all the music videos we’ve been doing with them pregnant, I don’t know why but in my head I kind of just didn’t think it was real or like – every time we’d been doing a music video we’d base it around their pregnancies, so every character we’d play in a music video would revolve around them being pregnant as well so it was almost like a fun little act that we were doing. So seeing Leigh and seeing the babies was like, “Oh, they’re here and they’re perfect and you’re a mum now and you’ve got to do this.” But I’m so proud of them and they smashed the pregnancies. They were absolute Queens, working hard – and they had each other which I suppose really helped them. It’s amazing. I am hoping to see Perrie soon and be the best Auntie I can be. I’ve never thought about comparing myself - it’s not me, it’s everybody else. It’s other people around me that try and put that pressure on me, I don’t know if being in a group dynamic has may be meant that I’ve got used to comparison and so it doesn’t effect me as much. Everyone’s in different places in their life and sometimes it’s assumed that I should feel, ‘cos I’m a woman, that I’m behind and I should feel a certain type of way that I’m not at that point in my life yet… But I’m so unbelievably proud of where I am at in my life and what I’ve achieved and my career. I’ve got an amazing boyfriend, I’ve got amazing friends and family, and I’m a businesswoman –why would I feel left out?! But it's interesting… like every interview it gets asked like “Are you feeling broody?”, and I’m like “No, hun! Are you?! Do you want me to ask you if you want to have a child or children?". Like, it’s quite a personal question, isn’t it? So it has felt a bit invasive at times… I think that everyone moves at different paces and I’m happy with mine. If my beauty cabinet was on fire, there are three things I'd save. Obviously I’m going to say the palette because I’ve put far too much work into that to let it burn, so that has got to come with us. I feel so proud looking at it – when I see Jade on top of it and I open it and it’s all shades that I’ve named and it’s all colours that I like – there’s no way I’m letting that go up in flames. So that’s coming with us. Then I’d say maybe just a classic nude lip, I’d have to grab. Because I feel like if you’re having a no makeup day, as long as you’ve got a bit of a nude lip on and nothing else, you’re sorted – do you know what I mean? And then finally… third product… may be a brow brush? Which I never thought I’d say but brows are so big now aren’t they, hun? They’re a priority. As long as they’re brushed up and they’re all in the right place then we’re good. X-Factor Jade would've saved three very different makeup products. A fuchsia pink lip, a massive lash… and, what else… brows just weren’t a thing to me then it’s so wild to me like the change in trends and stuff… maybe a lip gloss or something? But I mean, back then, especially for us girls, I think makeup artists got so excited at the thought of a new girl band that anything went. It was just throw anything on our faces and hope for the best at that point. It was a hot mess. But it was also of that time, like pop stars were really doing the most – like you had Katy Perry… it was all really colourful wasn’t it? Nicki Minaj… all these artists who were doing like really bright bold makeup looks and the eye colour would be very different to the lip… and y’know we’d have feathers on our eyelashes. It really was throwing the kitchen sink in so we’ve definitely learnt to mellow down over the years for sure. In ten years time, I’d like to still be performing with the girls. We’ll be doing something together. I’ll have built more of my empire. Maybe more beauty things and more other things I’m into like art and my businesses up North. As it stands, every year I get older I get more confident in myself so I’d like to imagine in ten years time I’ll be at a place where literally no body is going to affect me when it comes to self-love. And maybe I’d be helping to support another girl band by that point as well. It’s getting a bit lonely out here. We need more. So, yeah – I’ll be helping flying the flag there, I suppose.

#jade thirlwall #jt: beauty bay #article #4oct21

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subwalls · 4 years ago

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Tales from the SMP Presents: The Pit

Another Tales, another Kingdom Hearts comparison post! “The Other Side” is a mix between the soundtrack The Other Promise and the cinematic “Another Side, Another Story” (both of which come from Kingdom Hearts, of course), which evokes a very specific KH character that... yeah. So let’s get into it.

Karl gets stabbed by the king’s new general and finds himself back in the Inbetween. A cool new logo pops up as we enter the Inbetween, which actually is a... very typical example of a Kingdom Hearts world logo / intro card / name card? I honestly don’t know what it’s called, it doesn’t have a name, it’s just a thing that happens every time the character enters a new world.

Castle Oblivion is just one (1) example, but if you just look up “Kingdom Hearts worlds” and scroll a bit, you’ll see what I’m talking about, haha. This doesn’t really change anything, it’s just another little wink and nod to the Kingdom Hearts series.

... Except, of course, the fact that there’s a title placard for this world implies the existence of other worlds. Which we eventually find out is, in fact, true. Fun! There’s a number of associations I could make based off the aesthetic of the logo (the castle reminds me of Radiant Garden, etc) but honestly they’re not worth much without more information.

So, the Inbetween is vividly aware of Karl’s straying from “the path”. It makes a huge attempt to still be pleasant and “nice” and whatever, but we can tell quite obviously that there’s an undercurrent of threat under all those pretty quartz blocks and smiles :]

Speaking of the :] smile, the reveal of Quackity’s previous lore stream actually doesn’t push me to think that it’s directly related to him in any way. It’s not impossible that c!Quackity achieved such heights as... becoming? The Inbetween? Because he’s got reason to be invested in Karl’s powers and keeping him in line. But it’s a reach or long-term thing at best, honestly, so I’m shelving the Quackity-smile association until further evidence appears.

(I could go bonkers and say that this is the culmination of c!Quackity’s ascension after ripping Information out of Dream or even XD, but that’s well into AU territory, so it’s all just shrug emojis for now.)

Which, of course, leads to the question of who that smile actually is associated with, and I think as clear an answer as we’re going to get is... The Inbetween itself. Clearly.

There’s a lot of meaning I could take from that; is it associated with Dream or XD then? Or maybe is it tapping into Karl’s memories of c!Dream doing the :) thing and it’s appropriating that for itself? Why? To intimidate Karl into obeying it?

Mayhaps. Mayhaps!

Anyway, Karl goes up to the tree, and as he approaches, the video feed distorts as the game abruptly switches to a higher-level shader like BSL or something.

Now, I haven’t confirmed it, but the way the audio shifts makes me think it suddenly started playing backwards, too. It’s just the way it sounds; it’s got that... sucking effect that’s pretty typical of musical tracks played backwards.

Karl swims down to the hidden room, which is very dark now. There is a book that tells him to go up the ladder for a surprise.

Also, by the way, I’m back on my wither rose pot association brainrot, because I can’t help but notice that there isn’t one here. There was one in the previous Inbetween segment, but it’s gone now. Now there’s a new book with the :] smiley, which of course should set the audience on edge, since we just saw the first book use it in a... mildly threatening manner.

We know that in Dream SMP it’s a pretty common thing to use redstone as blood. Other characters have used it in bits, some more seriously than others, and I think that’s what this room is trying to emulate.

If I had to guess, I’d... hm.

A part of me wants to say that the blood is probably from the different versions of Karl wandering around. Nobody’s going to notice if a few abruptly take a swerve to bleed themselves out in a room or something, right? But that carries a lot of implications, namely that of control so perfect it borders on possession. So either the Inbetween can control Karls, or it has some other agent capable of dragging something into this chamber to bleed it all over the room.

Neither of those options are particularly nice, I’ll admit!

There’s no Kingdom Hearts associations here, by the way. Due to being so closely tied with Disney, KH is deathly allergic to portraying blood in any way lmao. Not so many messages carved into the walls.

Or painted onto the walls with blood, if that’s what that is. Color correction gets a bit odd with shaders, so I’m not saying anything for certain; the closed books don’t look enchantment-purple, for example.

What does catch my eye are the torches, which will later be the flickering lights that guide Karl to the portal. The fact that they are here makes me think that this was definitely the scene of either a battle or some other conflict between the two sides to this story (haha, get it, Another Side, Another Story, because that’s a Thing in KH—), or at least proves that an influence from The Other Side was here at some point in time.

Karl quickly gets the fuck out of there, and when he swims back to the surface the shaders/music switch back to normal.

Oh, and for all you people who like to point fingers at anything vaguely false and scream “that’s gAsLiGhTiNg!!!1!!111″ about it, here’s an actual attempt at gaslighting. Note the language used here: “Your mind seems to be playing tricks on you :]”. It’s explicitly trying to convince him not to trust his own senses and mind. It’s saying, let me think for you. And that is a very dangerous thing.

Wither rose pot exists again, yay. Definitely a Inbetween voice, this book.

More wither rose book, this time in the, uh, grand entrance hall? The lobby? Yeah.

This book basically goes on a spiel about how the Inbetween is so great for Karl (a declaration, by the way, rather than a hope) and says that he is doubting himself or being less like himself, which is odd, because what he’s really doing is doubting the Inbetween and the path it has laid out for him. In a way, by questioning the Inbetween, Karl is being truer to himself than anything else.

The malicious way this place frames its words becomes more and more obvious with each passing page; it again reminds him that it’s a place to be “feel at ease”, which is super sketch that it has to tell him outright rather than actually being that place. It continues attempting to gaslight him, telling him that his imagination is getting away from him and that he can’t trust himself or anything else but this “path”.

I’ll get back to the “path” thing in a minute, but I really want to drive home that this is the truest instance of gaslighting we’ve ever had on the Dream SMP. Nothing has ever so clearly declared that it must be trusted over the victim’s own senses, practically infantilizing the victim’s concerns and trying to make them think that their worries are just flights of fancy. Please, please keep this in mind any time you want to accuse a character of gaslighting in the future; not all psychological abuse is a form of gaslighting. Sometimes it’s just... abuse. It’s not any more or less worse than gaslighting, it’s just different.

Anyway, about the “path” that the Inbetween is so obsessed with. No idea what the fuck that’s talking about.

In Kingdom Hearts, the only paths that are really of import are is a specific character’s “road to dawn” (redemption without fully yielding his edginess, essentially) or the “paths” that characters take to traverse between different worlds. I really don’t think the Inbetween has anything to do with either of them, but I’ll leave the options there if you want to peruse the possibilities.

What’s more likely, I think, is that this is a vaguely more subtle version of control/possession. The “path” is just “whatever the Inbetween wants you to do”.

Our next book is from the other side, and is plastered nonchalantly but boldly against the wall with no flower pot or anything.

Karl picks it up, puts it in his inventory (which probably indicates that he’s keeping this particular route close to his heart, rather than whatever the Inbetween is trying to make him do), and then the video stutters and he teleports back to the main entrance.

There’s a new book. It’s spooky as fuck, and hilariously hypocritical.

The tone shift is immediate, of course, aided by the abrupt change in background music since he got teleported back here. (I can’t quite nail it down; I assume it’s a slowed KH track like the others, but it doesn’t quite ring any bells for me.) The way the Inbetween speaks through these books has changed too, though; it addresses him by name without any attempt to cover up its intentions with flowery softness.

It does a cool fun thing where it says that it knows more than Karl, and knows what’s right, and then goes on to say that those visions shouldn’t dictate his opinion on the inbetween. (I’m keeping an eye on that lowercase, by the way. Not sure if it’s a typo or intentional, since it’s still one word, but.) As though he should trust the Inbetween’s opinions of itself rather than his own brain? A’ight. Sure, Jan.

Again it tries to tell him that it’s safe here. The lying is getting more transparent now.

He puts this book back, the previous book back, and runs after a double of himself until the shaders and music glitch again.

Fun thing about shaders is that they make dark areas... much, much darker. Especially since we saw that Karl’s got night vision (the effect, for cinematic purposes) on.

The music has a few notes that again sound as though they’re being played backwards.

The book on the tree in this courtyard does not come with its own little wither rose pot, and neither does it seem to come from the Inbetween, since it’s telling him some awful things about these other versions of himself.

It confirms a few things about the mystery other selves, namely that they’re definitely condemned to walk the castle forever, but it doesn’t really tell us why this happens or why the Inbetween (probably) wants this to happen. What’s the end goal?

We’re probably a bit early in the story to figure that out, but they’re questions worth keeping in mind as this storyline progresses.

Karl gets teleported back to the main lobby, which looks very dark and spooky, though in the transition we do see a glimpse of that portal. There are torches around the wither pot book pedestal, and the audio really kicks into high gear with the creepy notes and the visuals get stretched and glitch quite a bit as he opens the book.

Funnily enough, the audio kind of reminded me of some pokemon encounter music, but I think that’s just because I’ve got those notes wired into my brain from years of playing those games. Anyway! The book tells him this is not a warning, and that they’re gonna fucking come for him to make sure he sticks with their path.

“We”.

Who is “we”? Is the Inbetween a collective? Is the Inbetween just part of a different whole? Maybe it counts all the different Karls as a part of it.

Either way, it’s creepy and threatening. Karl starts running; the screen glitches and tells him to follow the torches, which at first I was kind of leery about trusting, but the next series of words helped clear up exactly what side those words are on.

Also, you’ll notice that some other text kinda skitters across the screen before the English, like it’s getting translated. I think it’s Galactic, which is something different from the thing that Ranboo uses for Ender? I think Ranboo uses the Alien language thing or something? I’m not 100% sure on that, feel free to correct me and I’ll fix this portion.

It certainly implies that the speaker isn’t communicating in the server equivalent of “common”, however. Not sure if they’re translating into English or if Karl inherently understands it and it’s translated into English for the audience’s convenience, but either way, the other speaker might be linked to something completely different.

Karl runs on with encouragement and creepy music until he finally arrives at the portal, which is not barred off like it was last time. Thanks, whoever’s responsible for that!

The music dies for this final book.

The Inbetween’s last-ditch attempt to make him stay. It calls him silly a couple of times, and smiles at the end with a :]

Problem is, we and Karl already know that staying with the Inbetween will keep him from his friends. And the voice tells him to leave for his friends.

Karl looks around at this place that calls itself his sanctuary, and makes his decision.

He arrives at The Other Side.

The music appears to be drawn from parts of either The Other Promise or Roxas’ Theme, both of which are heavily tied to the character known as Roxas. The version that Karl uses is slower and lower, the same as with the Dearly Beloved track he uses for his Inbetween segments.

Honestly, I’m not as certain on this as I could be, because I couldn’t find the exact variation on Youtube and there are parts that could just be Emotional rather than Roxas-related, I’m not sure. I’ll probably come back and fix this if it’s untrue.

EDIT: Yeah, uh, it’s Ven’s theme, not Roxas’, but the world itself is still heavily associated with Roxas in naming themes.

For now, I’m going off the assumption that the decision to make both the name and the theme of this world relevant to Roxas is purposeful, which means I’m... going to attempt to explain who Roxas is and what his story is.

Oh boy.

To grossly oversimplify the situation, Roxas is a “part” of Sora who develops his own sense of identity, is betrayed, gets coerced into murdering his best friend, gets kidnapped, gets memory wiped, and then—when he gets his memory back and realizes he super hates his captors—is convinced by those same captors to give up his existence because he “isn’t a real person” and if he lives then Sora will never wake up. So he “dies” and becomes a part of Sora again until later.

(Sora, by the way, is asleep due to the events in Castle Oblivion, which you might recognize as That Place I Keep Associating The Inbetween With.)

He’s also a fan favorite lmao. Take from that as you will, and, I don’t know, flip through his wiki page or something. Can’t guarantee it’s all understandable though.

My point to bringing Roxas up is that his arc... kind of parallels Karl’s. He did his job working for superiors he didn’t really understand in a white castle, with the higher-ups trying to control him, until he realized he was losing his friend/s to them. At that point, he defects. I think this is the point that Karl has reached, in his own storyline. He’s pulled away from the thing that’s made itself known to him, and now he’s wandering down something that hopefully isn’t as awful as the beast he’s just left behind.

Roxas also doesn’t get his happy ending for a long, long time.

Let’s hope Karl is different.

Off the top of my head, I can tell you that the mood this world creates is very reminiscent of some areas that the Kingdom Hearts games explore in 0.2 (yes, zero point two, that is the number of that game. This fucking series, man), specifically Castle Town, in which the player character has to smack a bunch of clock gears to make time go backwards in order to proceed, which is fun. But no exact inspirations come to mind the same way that Castle Oblivion did for the Inbetween.

Until we get a better look at the interiors, I’m going to gently claim that this build is more original and doesn’t take inspiration quite as directly from a Kingdom Hearts source, so there might not be an exact parallel. There isn’t a black castle in Kingdom Hearts that I can think of, honestly.

Also, I will say that I’m going to take this episode as confirmation that the wither roses are associated with the Inbetween and appear next to books that come from / are related to the Inbetween, especially since The Other Side associates itself with a completely different flower: the white tulip.

Anyway, The Other Side tells him he’s home, and that they’ll explore more soon.

This... eerily parallels the Inbetween, which told him that he’s safe, and has lots to explore.

I can’t say that I immediately trust The Other Side, but neither can I say that I inherently distrusted it the same way I did with the Inbetween. We’re going to have to wait and see how this place behaves in future episodes to get a good grasp of it. Who built these places? Are they alive, and writing the books, or is there a mastermind behind them? We still don’t have a lot of the answers, but that’s okay.

For now, I’m content to know that Karl is away from the more obvious perils of the Inbetween.

It could still be a trap, but for now, it’s a refuge.

#dream smp #tales from the smp #tftsmp #im exciteeddddd #general thoughts

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hecallsmehischild · 4 years ago

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Recent Media Consumed

Books

The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien. About ten or fifteen years ago, I tried to read this and was totally overwhelmed by it. I kept it around, hoping maybe someday I might be able to read it. I finally have, and here are my impressions: WHY SO MANY NAMES. WHY YOU HAVE TO NAME EVERYBODY, AND EVERY TRIBE OF PEOPLES, AND EVERY INANIMATE OBJECT, AND EVERY LANDSCAPE FEATURE. WHY. *ahem* So. I have a general comprehension of the events of The Silmarillion, but I dealt with it by doing what you do for an impressionist painting. I (mentally) stepped way back and let all the names flow by me, and if there were names that were repeated a lot, then I mentally attached appropriate plot points and character details to those names so I could track with who they were and what they were doing. And, actually, I found myself able to hang on and enjoy the book for the most part. This is going to lead into a re-reading of the Lord of the Rings books, since I haven’t read those in about as long…

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien. I haven’t read some of these books since pre-teen years, with one required re-read of The Two Towers in high school (i.e. it’s been many an age since I’ve read these and my memory of the stories has been far more heavily influenced by the movies). In re-reading the first book, I was struck by the extreme tone shift for the Elves and Dwarves. Elves seem much closer to happy, mischievous fairies than these ethereal, solemn pillars of elegance and grace the movies show them to be. And Dwarves are far more bumbling and craftsmanlike than the movies show. Aside from that, The Hobbit was a pretty solid adaptation from the book, and the book also reminded me that this story was the first time I experienced “NO, MAIN CHARACTERS DON’T DIE, HOW DARE YOU,” and probably was the first book to make me cry. I must have been 8 or 10 years old. I FORGOT HOW MUCH THIS STORY INFLUENCED ME.

A Conflict of Visions by Thomas Sowell. I have a longer-than-usual list of things to say about this book. First is that it was just that level of difficult that I was struggling to understand while reading it (on Audible), but I think I got it. Sowell has several base concepts that I see repeated throughout his books, though he does like to dedicate whole books to specific aspects of the same topic. He is pretty damn thorough that way. So, for example, I would put this book in the middle of a three-book spectrum of similar concepts: Intellectuals and Society (most concrete and easiest to read), A Conflict of Visions (next-level abstraction, a little difficult to read), Knowledge and Decisions (root abstract concept, very difficult, I have not been able to get past chapter 2). The second thing I have to say is about a couple interesting concepts it proposes. Its whole point is to help readers understand the roots of two ways of seeing the world that come into severe conflict politically, and he calls them by their root titles: the constrained and the unconstrained visions. He traces the path of each back through the intellectuals that most spoke of them (tending to contrast Adam Smith with William Godwin and Condorcet). Though he leans heavily toward the constrained vision (based on reading his other works) he does his best to make this book an academic study of both, with both of the visions' strengths and flaws and reasoning and internal consistencies fairly laid out. In doing so, he helped me understand a few things that make this situation really difficult for people on opposing sides to communicate. One of them is that root words and concepts literally mean different things to different people. I had some vague notion of this before, but he laid out three examples in detail: Equality, Power, and Justice. It was kind of astounding to see just how differently these three words can be defined. It makes me think that arguing about any specific issues rooted in these concepts is fruitless until first an understanding has been reached on terms, because otherwise two parties are endlessly talking past each other. Another really interesting idea he brought up is the existence of “hybrid visions” and he named both Marxism and Fascism as hybrid visions. This was especially fascinating to me because I have seen the accusation of “Nazi” flung around ad nauseam and I wondered how it was that both sides were able to fling it at each other so readily. Well, it’s because Fascism is actually a hybrid vision, so both sides have a grain of truth but miss the whole on that particular point. In any case, this was a little difficult to read but had some fascinating information. For people who are wondering what on earth this gap is between political visions, how on earth to bridge the gap, or why the gap even exists in the first place, this is a really informative piece.

Movies

The Hobbit & Fellowship trilogies (movies). I mean, it’s definitely not my first watch, not even my second. But I went through it with Sergey this time and that means the run-time is double because we pause to talk and discuss details. This watch came about partly due to Sergey’s contention that Gandalf’s reputation far outstrips his actual powers, so we ended up noting down every instance of Gandalf’s power to see if that was true. Conclusion: Gandalf is actually a decently powerful wizard, but tends to use the truly kickass powers in less-than-dire circumstances. That aside, this movie series was always a favorite for me. I rated The Hobbit trilogy lower the first time I saw it but, frankly, all together the six movies are fantastic and a great way to sink deep into lore-heavy fantasy for a while. And I’m catching way more easter-egg type details after having read the Silmarillion so it’s even more enjoyable. (finally, after about a week of binge-watching) I forgot how much this story impacted me. I forgot how wrenchingly bittersweet the ending is. I forgot how much of a mark that reading and watching this story left on my writing.

Upside-Down Magic. Effects were good. Actors were clearly having fun and enjoying everything. Story didn’t make enough sense for my taste, but it was a decent way to kill flight time.

Wish Dragon. So, yes, it’s basically an Aladdin rewrite, but it’s genuinely a cheesy good fluff fest that made me grin a whole lot.

Plays

Esther (Sight and Sound Theatres). < background info > This is my third time to this theatre. There are only two of these in existence and they only run productions of stories out of the Bible. The first time I went I saw a production of Noah, the second time I saw a production of Jesus. My middle sister has moved all the way out to Lancaster, PA in hopes of working at this theatre. My husband and I came out to visit her. < /background info > So. Esther. They really pulled out all the stops on the costumes and set. I mean, REALLY pulled out all the stops. And the three-quarters wrap-around stage is used to great effect. I tend to have a general problem of not understanding all the words in the songs, but I understood enough. I highly recommend sitting close to the front for immersive experiences. This theatre puts on incredible productions and if you ever, ever, EVER have the opportunity to go, take it. Even if you think it's nothing but a bunch of fairy tales, STILL GO. I doubt you'll ever see a fairy tale produced on another stage with equal dedication to immersion.

Shows

The Mandalorian (first two seasons). Well. This was pretty thoroughly enjoyable. It felt very Star-Wars, and I’d kind of given up after recent movies. Felt like it slipped into some preaching toward the end? Not sure, I could be overly sensitive about it, but I enjoyed this a lot (though I did need to turn to my housemate and ask where the flip in the timeline we were because I did NOT realize that the little green kid IS NOT ACTUALLY Yoda).

Games

Portal & Portal 2. Portal is probably the first video game I ever tried to play, back when I had no idea what I was doing. Back then, I attempted to play it on my not-for-gaming Mac laptop. Using my trackpad. Once the jumping-for-extra-velocity mechanic came into play, I just about lost my mind trying to do this with a trackpad and gave up. Later I returned to the game and played it with my then-boyfriend on a proper gaming computer. Now, after having played several games and gotten better at "reading the language" of video games, I decided I wanted to see if I could beat the Portal games by myself. Guess what. I BEAT 'EM. Yes, I remembered most of the puzzles in Portal so that's a little bit of a cheat, but I'd say a good 2/3 of Portal 2 was new puzzles to me. It is crazy how proud I feel of myself that I could beat Portal 2, especially. Learning how to play video games at this age has really knocked down the lie, "You can't learn anything." Though I still suck at platformers and games that require precision. Since I find those types frustrating, I probably won't be playing many. Games are about enjoyment, so I'll push myself a little, but not to the point where I can't stand what I'm playing.

The Observer. I like the concept and the art but I don't think I could keep trying to play this game. It's really depressing. My in-game family members all died of illness or accident or committed suicide. I also kept getting executed by the state. In order to keep us all alive I'd have to do pretty terrible things that I have a hard enough time contemplating even in a fictional setting.

Baba Is You. Fun and interesting concept, but I got stuck pretty early on. Don't think I want to push as hard on this one.

#recent media consumed #n00b gamer child #child loves books #child loves movies #child loves shows

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rosesgonerogue · 5 years ago

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I didn’t so much fall in love- It kicked me in the face Chapter Three

The Wayne Manor was exactly what Marinette had come to expect after years of knowing famous people. It was expertly decorated, but it had an almost somber feel to it - it matched Gotham’s general aesthetic.

Also meeting expectations was the Wayne family itself. Marinette had done her homework, taking hours to research each member long before setting foot in Gotham. It was clear that they had been warned to behave, but chaos still bubbled beneath their calm facades, she could see it in their eyes.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, allow me to introduce you to Masters Bruce, Richard, Jason, Timothy, and Damian.”

Marinette nodded to each in turn, her hand unconsciously tightening on Leo’s. She took a steadying breath. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and this is my son Leo. If you’re interested, I made some macarons for you, as I do for most meetings with my clients.” She set the box on the coffee table. “I would recommend eating them in the next day or so.”

Tim looked like he was going to faint, and it was then that Marinette noticed the harsh bruise on his jaw - almost like he’d gotten kicked. Surely it had to be a coincidence, there was no way…

Damian huffed, and the entire family seemed to stiffen. When he spoke, his words were sharp, acidic. “You’re meant to be a seamstress, not a baker. Besides, what kind of professional brings a child to a business meeting? Is his father too worthless to watch him?”

Everyone in the room froze, and Marinette could feel the warmth drain out of her. She felt eerily similar to when Tikki used ice powers, in fact. There was no way for her to know, but when she spoke, Marinette’s words carried the weight of an avalanche.

“You yourself are legally a child sitting in on a business meeting, Monsieur Wayne, and I did not object to it because I trust your father to parent you how he sees fit. I could explain to you that other than myself, my only options for Leo’s care are my parents, who are busy preparing for my mother’s surgery while running the most successful bakery in Paris, or my friends, who are all dealing with professional lives of their own. I could explain that, but I shouldn’t have to, because he is my son, and I will raise him as I see fit. And I’m a fashion designer, not a seamstress. This isn’t the seventeenth century.” She paused, staring the offender down. “Do you have any further objections, Monsieur Wayne?”

A small part of her glowed in satisfaction when Damian ducked his head. “Do as you must.” She missed the way that Tim blinked owlishly, exchanging surprised looks with Dick.

Instead she straightened her jacket, murmuring a few comforting words to Leo before finally letting his hand go. “I prefer getting to know my clients before I actually begin, it helps me make the perfect piece. Does some-”

“I’ll be first,” Jason said, shoving Dick out of the way.

“Perfect. If you’ll come this way, Monsieur Todd, we can sit…”

*************

The satisfied look on Jason’s face was more than a little disconcerting to Tim. He didn’t really feel like hearing the woman who’d occupied his mind for the past day, so he turned his attention elsewhere. He still needed to come to terms with the fact that she had gone head to head with Damian and come out on top after all.

Leo was scrutinizing one of the paintings on the wall, a tiny version of MDC herself. He had the same dark hair, light freckles on pale skin, and wide blue eyes…

No. Please no. Tim glanced subtly at Bruce. Surely he wouldn’t try to adopt either parts. Marinette was an adult with two living parents, and Leo had Marinette, so they were safe, right?

Regardless, that would be an issue for another time. Tim found himself crouching next to Leo. “That painting is of Monsieur Bruce’s parents,” he said in French.

The child switched his soulful eyes to Tim’s face, his expression serious. “You know French.”

“Yes, I really like languages, so I learned as many as I could,” Tim said, resisting the urge to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Your name is Leo, right?”

“Yes, Monsieur.”

“You can call me Tim. Are you enjoying Gotham so far?”

Leo thought hard for a moment. “Maman and I had a lot of fun today, but yesterday was a little scary, the way it sometimes gets in Paris.”

He desperately wanted to ask Leo more about the scary things in Paris, but it wasn’t fair to ask a child. Instead, Tim let the boy pull him around the parlor, asking questions about anything he found even remotely interesting.

“And that is the trophy Dick, my oldest brother, got for gymnastics in seventh grade,” Tim explained, hefting the boy higher up so he could see the object in question more clearly. “That’s the ribbon Jason got for a creative writing contest, and Damian’s martial arts trophy. A couple of these belong to Bruce…”

Leo stared at the glass case like it would afford him the answers to the universe before looking up to Tim’s face. “Where are your trophies?”

“What?”

“Everyone else has trophies. Where are yours?”

“That’s… I mean, I have some, I just didn’t think they were very important,” Tim said with a shrug.

“But families should be together,” Leo said with wide, unblinking eyes. “That’s why I wanted to come with Maman, even though it made your brother be mean to her.”

Tim smiled, pushing down the barrage of emotions fighting within him. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right. Your Maman is a very smart lady.”

“Maman is the smartest,” Leo said solemnly.

“You must be right again,” Tim said conspiratorially. “She’s also the best at making clothes.”

The boy’s face didn’t change in the least, there wasn’t a trace of a smile, but he slowly patted Tim’s cheek. “I like you.”

“That’s high praise.”

TIm golted, his cheeks flooding with color when he found himself next to Marinettte. She was smiling kindly when she said, “Thank you for watching Leo, that really wasn’t necessary. But I didn’t know you spoke French. That’s very impressive, Mr. Drake.”

“Call me Tim, please. And you’ve caught me, I have a deep love of languages. It’s helped in this position, though,” he said with a smile. “Business transactions are a lot easier when you don’t need a translator.”

“I’ve also found that to be true,” Marinette said, lips quirked. “It’s finally your turn for your consultation. We can do it with or without Leo, whatever you would prefer.”

“Leo and I are friends now, of course I would need his opinion!” Tim said, just barely noticing that he was still holding the child. “After all, I need his help making sure that I have the best suit at the entire Wayne Gala.”

That actually coaxed a smile out of the boy, and the resemblance between him and his mother had never been stronger. Marinette looked surprised, but her eyes were warm. “A lot of designers despair over men’s fashion, you know. People lash out whenever you stray too far from the traditional designs, and no one can really reinvent the suit. While it doesn’t let us exercise as much creativity and freedom as women’s fashion, I actually love things like this. Men’s suits are all about attention to detail - how I can work to show your personality in an appropriate but memorable manner. Do you have any specific requests?”

Against his will, Tim felt his face heat up, doubtlessly turning as red as his vigilante suit. “I fully admit that I was the one who originally commissioned you. I even had to fight Damian. And yet, I haven’t thought about the specifics of what I might want until now.”

Thankfully, Marinette laughed. “You’d be surprised at how often that happens. That’s perfectly fine. I just didn’t want to leave out anything you desperately wanted. Do you have a specific color for your suit in mind?”

“Black?” Tim asked helplessly. “I’ve followed your career for a long time, Mademoiselle, but that doesn’t mean that I know anything about fashion. I just know that your fashion seems… magical.”

Marinette’s lips quirked upwards, a knowing sparkle in her eyes. “That’s an interesting comment. I have a proposal for you, Timothy Drake. If you have any pressing requests I will include them, but I want to keep yours a surprise.”

Tim swallowed, completely unprepared to deal with the sparkle in her eyes. “I trust you.”

“The exterior is going to be a neutral color because you’re a business man who needs to keep up appearances. That means the most fun we’ll get to have is with the lining. Any opinions?” Marinette asked. “I only bring it up because it’s the most flexible part.”

“I don’t know, I think all of my suit linings are black or gray,” Tim said, slightly distressed.

Leo stared him down with serious eyes before saying, “Maman, the inside needs to be red. Ladybug red.”

“Ladybug? You want me to look like a beetle?” Tim asked.

Marinette smiled slightly at his comment, but her eyes were fixed on her son. “Are you sure, mon cher? Ladybug red?”

“That’s what he needs,” Leo confirmed.

Thinking about his brothers’ laughter if he showed up in a polka-dot suit, Tim asked again, “Ladybugs? Are you sure, Leo?”

“Oh, not the bug,” the fashion designer assured him, finally breaking eye contact with her son. “She tries to keep her existence quiet, but Ladybug is one of Paris’s heroes.”

“She’s the best hero,” Leo said solemnly. “But you’re nice like she is. You need to have red like she does.”

There was a strange look in Marinette’s eye that Tim couldn’t quite decipher, but she smiled nonetheless. “You should feel honored. Once someone back in Paris asked me to make something in Ladybug red, and Leo hid the fabric so I had to make it in a slightly different shade. He must really like you.”

He wanted to say something, anything. Tim had never felt so… he didn’t even know how to describe it. He had spent his life building it into what he had wanted it to be, propping himself up with his accomplishments. He stood alone in his skyscraper, trying to catch up to Bruce and his brothers, but Marinette and Leo had violently dragged him down to the ground, standing outside with everyone. Maybe his family had never been as distant as he thought.

Or maybe the caffeine withdrawal was finally getting to him.

Taglist:

@ii-fox-demon @queen-in-a-flower-crown @novaloptr @saphiraazure2708 @iamabrownfox @smolplantmum @redhoodedtoad @loysydark @slytheringinger300 @finallyaniguana @brokenwordsarehard2 @abrx2002 @mystery-5-5 @zalladane @moonlightstar64 @marinettepotterandplagg @black-streak @purplesundaze @maribat-is-lifeblood

Note:

Damian’s going to be a jerk in this. Beware.

#maribat #timinette #marinette x tim

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architectuul · 4 years ago

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Othernity

Interview with Dániel Kovács, the curator of the official exhibition of the Hungarian Pavilion at the 17. International Architecture Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia.

Interior of the Calvinist church of Külső-Kelenföld, Budapest (1981) by István Szabó. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (20209

“In Central and Eastern Europe, modernist post-war buildings - relics of socialist modernism - are in an increasingly threatened position. Their situation in Hungary is becoming more and more politicized: seen as remnants of the communist past, they have no future, and are demolished or refurbished. The architectural heritage of a whole generation is getting lost,” starts the curatorial statement of the team behind this year's Hungarian Pavilion at the Venice Architecture Biennale. Dániel Kovács, the curator of the pavilion explains that “to this day, theory and practice of our modernist forebears is an important intellectual ammunition for architects, but more importantly, these buildings were once the backdrop of our everyday lives, and they are still objects of personal attachments and memories. Instead of erasing them out of our memory, we should finally come to terms with our past.”

“Othernity – Reconditing Our Modern Heritage”, interior of the exhibition at the Hungarian Pavilion of the 17th International Architecture Exhibition in Venice.| Photo Dániel Dömölky (2021)

The Hungarian project exhibited in this year, titled “Othernity – Reconditioning Our Modern Heritage” tries to look for possible answers. On this occasion the curatorial team of architecture historian Dániel Kovács and architects Attila Róbert Csóka, Szabolcs Molnár and Dávid Smiló invited 12 architectural practices from nine countries of the region with a mission to outline the future of 12 selected modern buildings in Budapest. “They offer different approaches and perspectives, but the collective results make one point clear: in a sustainable and responsible way, our future can only be built on our past,” concludes Kovács. The pavilion features A-A Collective (Poland / Denmark / Switzerland), Architecture Uncomfortable Workshop (Hungary), b210 (Estonia), BUDCUD (Poland), KONNTRA (Slovenia / North-Macedonia / Croatia), LLRRLLRR (Estonia / United Kingdom), MADA (Serbia), MNPL Workshop (Ukraine), Paradigma Ariadné (Hungary), PLURAL (Slovakia), Vojtěch Rada (Czech Republic) and Studio Act (Romania).

---

In the curatorial statement you are pointing to overcoming the aforementioned neurosis of Eastern and Central European people within sharing the collective optimism phrased by participants; is that the Othernity? Dániel Kovács: The identity of this region, Eastern Europe, is an unnatural, political one, created by the invading superpower after WW2. They got stuck, Western media started to use it, but became filled with negative connotations. If you think about Eastern Europe, you associate it with slightly uncultured, tribal people, physical workers, and nonintellectuals. In the early 1990s we actually tried to change these connotations and come up with the concept of Central Europe, based on the German concept of Mitteleuropa. But it turned out that nobody was interested in this. We remained Eastern Europeans. Today there is an attempt to re-appropriate this term by our generation, the ones who grew up after the change of the regime. We are trying to fill this with new meanings.

LLRRLLRR: Stars, Dead Bodies and Other Forms That Do Not Change - installation. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

So in this sense the neurosis is the feeling that our identity was imposed on us from the outside and what we are trying to do with Othernity, an architectural attempt, is to fill it with a certain kind of optimism. The expression of collective optimism came up in our first personal meeting with the participating architects in November 2019. The first time, when we sat down together with architects from 9 different countries in the region, we realized that it is so easy to understand and talk to each other because we share the same backgrounds, the same historical and social experiences. That leads us to define this feeling, this atmosphere as collective optimism that can replace the present neurosis.

Othernity is also a very provocative name, how is your statement accepted by the culture politics in Hungary? DK: Obviously the whole concept came from a recent problem, modernist buildings are being demolished not only in Hungary but basically everywhere. In this region there is a certain factor that contributes to this process of demolitions and that is the political aspect. Buildings from this period in the region are seen more as relics of this communist past. But everything is over politicised in Hungary, because this is what populist politics do, they overpolitisise every aspect of life. As a gay man I’m laughing all the time when it comes up that I “should keep my private life in my bedroom”. I would like to do it but it is impossible because my bedroom is full of politicians who are trying to control my private life. On the other hand however this is a very clever tool by populist politics, that politicizes everything and forces people to be either indifferent or take up a political point of view.

KONNTRA: Mo·nu·ments - installation | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

What about the Hungarian media? DK: Unfortunately, the media also takes over this tool from politics. Not only Hungarian but also Western media shows news from Hungary in a strictly political point of view. We are always represented as people in connection with politics and nobody does anything to change this point of view. This is a problem that works against an united Europe. Most of the people from this region don’t feel as part of the united Europe because we are always represented as different. Actually this debate and this situation is very similar to the debate about colonialism and to the representation of African and Asian people. But nobody understands that the same is happening with us Eastern-Europeans. We are represented in a way that we don’t identify with. And we can not do anything about it.

In which sense? DK: Whenever I am reading English press it is very funny to see how keen they are to use certain foreign language expressions, like for example taoiseach, the name of the prime minister of Ireland or certain expressions from the Maori language in New Zealand. On the other hand whenever they are writing down the name of anybody coming from Eastern Europe, they never use the proper accents and punctuation. Nobody is using the both two accents in my name, as they think it is not necessary. But that is not my name, I want my name back. What the Othernity project is about is that we would like to re-appropriate our identity to fill it with a meaning, which is defined by us. And believe me there is nothing political about it.

To answer your previous question shortly, surprisingly we have no political reactions coming from cultural politics. Obviously the concept was debated in Hungary, but it wasn’t politicised as much as I expected to be.

MADA: 1.250.000 m³ - installation | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2020)

Can the Othernity be perceptive as an utopia that generates new collective ways of living in the region? DK: I would hope so, obviously, but I don’t expect us to save the world. What I expect and what I am working on is to create discussion. To open up people’s minds, either Hungarians, people from the region or people from other parts of the world. To help them understand these problems and recognize their own problems, reflected by ours. In this sense Othernity is a bigger success than we expected because many people in Venice from different parts of the world came to the curatorial team and examined the problem, discussed its origins and questions engaged in lively discussion. This was great feedback, which we really didn’t expect. So many people would recognise their question and problems in this quite specific attempt.

Participants and curatorial team of the Othernity project. | Photo József Rosta, Ludwig Museum – Museum of Contemporary Art (2019)

What were the criteria for the selection of twelve practices from the region and how did the process of collaboration run? DK: First we have chosen the twelve buildings in Budapest and then we researched in our networks for international partners. This was way before the competition because in Hungary the biennial curatorialship is decided by an open competition. When we won our curatorial enrollment we already had everything finished, we even had the first ideas from the architects. This was six months of work before the deadline. As I mentioned we wanted to reach out to those who are in their twenties, thirties, early forties and who grew up and were educated after 1989. They are already citizens of Europe and they identify as Europeans but share the same experiences and architectural heritage. By this they would understand what these buildings in Budapest could mean and could represent for Hungarians and yet they have an objective distance. The original idea was to represent both sides of the story, with the historical aspect, buildings with their documents and the archive materials in one hall of the exhibition building in Venice and on the other hand, the proposals, the twelve new ideas. This created a mirroring structure, which we manage to keep throughout all the exhibition and even the catalogue.

How is modernist architecture accepted by the current Hungarian government? DK: There is no general view on that. It is true that of the twelve buildings we have chosen, two have been demolished in the past year and one of them was demolished by the government. Another building is currently being considered to be demolished by an independent institution with governmental funds. When I approached them to ask about why this building is being demolished they answered that it is a brutalist building and it was the headquarters of the workers militia, a very communist organization. These kinds of arguments do come back again and again in these discussions, especially if you look in the context of the ongoing reconstruction of the Buda castle. I don’t debate the decision of the government, which is to reconstruct the castle in the pre-war state, against the current state built in the 1950s, 60s and the 70s. There is a certain kind of nostalgia from the part of politics towards the pre-war era and certain kind of hatred towards the post-war era.

Maybe also ignorance and prejudices? DK: That’s the reason I wouldn’t try to point fingers on responsible parties. This is also a responsibility of the architectural community of the architectural historian community, because we were not able to develop canons, we were not able to come up with what’s good and what’s not good regarding modernism. Behind this inability to say anything out loud is again a general feeling of uneasiness and uncertainty, which is nowaday present in every aspect of our lives. Who is to say that one building is good? Who is to say that we should keep this building instead of the other? There is no hierarchy anymore. What Othernity is trying is to figure out how to keep discussing this topic. To show that architects do have the creative thinking necessary to solve these problems. I think these twelve different approaches in the pavillon really prove that young architects are capable to come up with ideas that can push forward certain problems.

Do you think that architecture and culture fight can change political borders and create new identities in the geopolitical space of Eastern Europe? DK: This could happen everywhere, not only in Easten Europe, but I wouldn’t use the term fight. I think these are tools to use. It Is not a coincidence that we came up with the expression reconditioning, because it's a psychological expression and not used in architecture. If we want to change these situations, we need to change our ways of thinking. For that we need to recognise, realise certain very basic problems such as overpolitisizing architecture, dealing with the constructing identity, recognising our neighbours and start to talk to them. If we are able to do that we can change what's happening and we can affect what’s happening in architecture and culture but only if we are able to recognize these things.

The curatorial team of the Othernity project: Attila Róbert Csóka, Szabolcs Molnár, Dávid Smiló and Dániel Kovács. | Photo Dániel Dömölky (2021)

The Othernity is a new, collaboration-based method, which helps us rethink our practice of heritage protection and, at the same time, it is such an architectural behaviour that can create a more responsible attitude towards profession and society. The Hungarian Pavilion is looking for an answer to the following question: what possibilities does the often disputed and in many ways obsolete heritage of modern architecture hold for the architects of the future?

The curatorial team asked 12 architecture practices from Central and Eastern Europe to recondition 12 iconic modern buildings of Budapest, offering a possible way to reconcile past and future architecture.The selected buildings of Budapest were built during the socialist regime, and in spite of their values, they are in danger today. The invited architects from Central and Eastern Europe know and understand the dilemmas concerning the conservation of the regional architectural heritage, however, they already studied and gained professional experience in the united Europe and one the characteristics of their projects is the experimental attitude pointing towards an international direction, which is accompanied by a fresh visual form of expression.

The exhibition is divided into two spaces: the LAB section documents the historical conditions of the 12 buildings, while the SHOWROOM section presents the 12 contemporary architectural reflections. Othernity is the first exhibition project in the history of the Hungarian Pavilion based on wide-ranging international collaboration. At the same time it is a collaborative practice, research on heritage protection and the expression of our conviction that the architecture of the future can be built on the past in order to reach due resilience, adequate sustainability and strong identity bonds.

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polaristranslations · 4 years ago

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The Fourth Box

■ ■

There's a psychological phenomenon known as the Capgras delusion.

It's when, one day, a person feels that their family member or friend has been switched out for an impostor—of course, this wasn't Lupin III, so there's no way that person's friend was switched out for someone else, but for whatever reason, they couldn't help but feel that way.

Even though they look the same on the outside, they seem different.

Even though they speak in the same way, they sound different.

Even though it's the same atmosphere, they feel different—that's the Capgras delusion.

If that's the case, then I, this Kurokami Medaka may have always—or perhaps, from the very beginning—felt that way towards my brother, Kurokami Maguro. Is this person really my brother? Is it really true that this person is my brother? That's how I felt.

Although, according to Zenkichi, my brother and I resemble each other.

"If you really hate Maguro-san, Medaka-chan, then I would think that's due to hating others that are similar to you. You probably don't want to recognize it, but personally the differences between you two are paper-thin. There's just barely a difference."

Just barely.

Well, rather than not wanting to recognize this opinion of Zenkichi's, it was more like I didn't recognize it at all, but the words "just barely", and those words only, seemed to be surprisingly fitting towards us siblings.

I didn't know about paper-thin, though.

Perhaps if that paper was twofold.

First off, I felt that my brother's existence was just barely on the edge, and secondly, the relationship between my brother and I was just barely on the edge—well, this was a story about after the collapse of Kumagawa Misogi's Student Council, after everything ended on that summer break, but I left my parents' home.

I left my parents' home, and I became independent.

Without taking a penny of the allowance provided by the Kurokami family, I began living independently—one of the big reasons that I entered Hakoniwa Academy was that, as a special scholarship student, I would be exempt from tuition fees.

What?

What did you say, Torai Kudaki?

You're saying that someone like me would be exempt from tuition fees in most schools?

Haha, it's an honor to be overestimated like that.

But that isn't true at all—because I was a bit of a problem child.

I was a problem child in both elementary school and in middle school—even if you took away the fact that I was a scholarship student, it's hard to believe that there would be any school to take me in but Hakoniwa Academy.

After all, Hakoniwa Academy's Class 13 is that sort of class.

That's what I think, anyway.

Incidentally, my brother had also been in Hakoniwa Academy's Class 13—just from that, you'll be able to find more similarities between my brother and I, but the bizarre aspect of my brother was that he quit that Class 13 partway through.

In other words, he dropped out.

And now, he works as the manager of the old school building.

If you think about it, it's quite the unreasonable life—there's no thought or consistency behind it. And if you add the fact that he worked as the Hakobune Middle School Student Council Executive Committee's secretary in his middle school days, then it really starts making no sense at all.

I don't really have any, you know?

Things that "make no sense at all", that is.

It seemed that they've been playing around again recently, but the intimate combination of Kumagawa Misogi and Kurokami Maguro was, from my point of view, something of a nightmare—no, not just to me, but to anyone who looked, it was something of a nightmare.

It might not click to anyone who only knows the present combination of my thornless brother and Kumagawa who's been mellowed out thanks to Tachiarai-senpai, but the combination of the past was something that was shocking and feared by the entire student body of Hakobune Middle School.

Well, at this point in time, I knew nothing of President Kumagawa or Secretary Maguro—but, well, it seemed quite appropriate to make my brother into the Secretary. As a magician who wields the magic known as analysis, my brother had been appointed with the role of record-keeper—however, I would only learn this after the fact, but this appointment had not actually been made by Kumagawa himself.

Kumagawa himself wasn't the kind of person to put the right person in the right place.

It was something I could tell from him appointing me as Treasurer.

Since, according to Zenkichi, I didn't have the disposition to be Treasurer at all—that's why, when I became the Student Council President at Hakoniwa Academy, I approached Kikaijima Mogana, a professional, for the Treasurer position.

Ah, I know.

Why don't I mention this, while I'm at it?

This isn't about Kikaijima Mogana, but about Akune Kouki—the relationship between Akune Kouki and Kurokami Maguro. The Hakobune Middle School's 66th Generation Student Council Executive Committee's Secretary, Kurokami Maguro, and the Hakoniwa Academy's 98th Generation Student Council Executive Committee's Secretary, Akune Kouki.

In terms of their personalities, it seemed they didn't mesh very well.

To be clear.

I'll get into the specifics later, but in the end, the number of people that my brother could "get along with" in terms of general values was surprisingly limited—even though he has such good manners and is always smiling, I guess everyone still feels something from him.

"That person," Akune Kouki had said.

Oh, this was something he said just the other day.

"Maguro-san doesn't seem to have any conception of good or evil—it might be natural for him as an analyst, but it seems like he only feels what he sees as he sees it. How should I put it? Perhaps I should say, he doesn't associate ideas with other ideas. For example, he may look at the sky and see that it's blue, but he won't think of it as pretty. Something like that. There's no doubt that he's not a bad person, but he's absolutely not a good person either—rather than good or evil, it's like he doesn't know right or wrong. That's the kind of person I think he is—and I imagine he's been like that in the past, as well."

Indeed.

As expected, he has an exceptional way of putting things—though that may be usual for him.

Of course, his way of looking at my brother wasn't exactly the same as mine, and if anything, I had some objections to his words from where I stood, but because he didn't know good or evil—because he had no conception of good or evil—perhaps that was why he was a good match for Kumagawa Misogi, who ruined both the good and the evil at the same time.

Although, that could also apply to Miyakonojou Oudo.

In the end, it seemed my brother could only get along with guys like those.

In other words—for me.

For a person like Kurokami Medaka, it seemed my brother wouldn't be able to get along with her for the rest of their lives.

■ ■

The Student Council office that my brother took me to was empty.

It seemed that the members wouldn't show up here on a regular basis after school—that was yet another difference between here and Hakoniwa Academy's Student Council. At this point, if I were to enumerate all the differences between Hakobune Middle School's Student Council and Hakoniwa Academy's Student Council, there would be no end to it.

It was harder to find the points they had in common.

Even though they both held the name of Student Council, perhaps it was better to think of them as completely different beings—in terms of animals, it would be as if their appearances were similar, but the genus or species was completely different.

There were animals that intentionally camouflaged themselves to look like other animals, though—with that in mind, I could come up with a new theory. The organization with Kumagawa Misogi at its summit was not a Student Council Executive Committee, but an organization that had simply camouflaged itself as such—well, that seemed more like something to come from President Kumagawa, but regardless of what was the truth, it was the same either way.

It was all in the past, anyway.

It wasn't as if anything would change if we tried to figure out the truth—although if there was something that would change, even the tiniest something that would change, I'm still not sure I would spare the effort to do so.

At any rate, there was no one in the Student Council office after school.

I'd been so sure that President Kumagawa would be there, so it felt a bit anticlimactic. I'd come expecting that it would be a conversation between President Kumagawa, my brother, and me—no, rather than anticlimactic, you could say I felt a sense of danger.

Just think about it.

It was just me and my brother in an otherwise empty room, you know?

I definitely felt a sense of danger at something like this—I wasn't the type of person to run from a battle, but a situation like this was something that made me want to run away.

But, I couldn't run away.

And I couldn't let my brother escape, either.

I had to ask.

"Why?"

I said.

Keeping my feelings in check—bracing myself, trying not to be conscious of the fact that the other person was family.

"Why are you doing something like being a member of the Student Council, onii-sama?"

My brother repeated my words in an affected manner.

And he took his seat at a desk to the right, most likely the desk of the Secretary position.

"What a strange thing to ask, Medaka-chan."

"It isn't that strange. As your sister, I'm simply worried about my brother."

This was a big lie.

If anything, what I was worried about was Hakobune Middle School, in which my brother worked as a member of the Student Council. Yes, to be clear, at this point in time, I was more cautious about my own brother than of Kumagawa Misogi, commonly referred to as "the Minus that crawls from chaos".

I was cautious.

And I regarded him as dangerous.

Just between us, I've seen a lot of people up close, produced by my brother's analysis and gone astray—in terms of having caused people to go astray, I couldn't exactly speak ill of others, but in the case of my brother, it was worse because he caused people to go astray intentionally.

How should I put this—you've heard of the story "Yam Gruel", right?

It's a story about feeding as much yam gruel as possible to a person who likes yam gruel—in terms of ideas, what my brother is doing is fundamentally similar. How should I put it? It's like giving humans a disproportionate amount of power—I'm not sure if this is an appropriate comparison, but what do you think would happen if you used a time machine to go back a thousand years ago and gave the people there cell phones?

It's hard to predict what would happen, right?

It would certainly improve their level of civilization, but it's easy to realize that it won't be just good things that happen—there would definitely be things that are lost or broken. Progressing in one bound without following the proper order would surely cause a distortion somewhere.

My brother is a person that does things like that.

He ends up doing things like that.

That must be why he was employed as the supervisor of the Flask Plan—but, because he was nothing but that sort of person, I suppose I could praise my brother a bit for not getting swallowed up by the Flask Plan itself.

However, three years ago.

When I was in middle school, I didn't have the leeway to think those thoughts.

I didn't have a shred of the feelings of wanting to praise my brother—not a sliver. If anything, I held nothing but hostility towards him. Well... I'd like you to think that it was a difficult age for me.

As for the rest.

It would be my unreasonable... My excessive faith in my brother. Although it might sound a bit unnatural to suddenly bring up the word faith at this stage—but my feelings were such that I knew that he would not tremble in the slightest even if I went at him seriously, even if I hit him seriously.

Facing him with all his might.

That was what the sister thought was the correct way to handle her brother—and even now, I still do think that to some extent. Compared to his middle school days, my brother has mellowed out a bit, but some discretion is still necessary in regards to him.

"Worried, huh? Ah, I understand, Medaka-chan. You're always worried about your dearly beloved brother, aren't you?—but that's why what you're asking is so strange. After all, aren't you going to become a member of this very Student Council, too? I've heard from Kumagawa-kun."

"...I wouldn't have agreed to that invitation if I had known in advance that you were a member, onii-sama."

No.

Had I even agreed to his words in the first place?

Even if I had nodded along, had I truly agreed?

To be honest, it felt like it had gradually moved along in that direction until things were suddenly decided... Ultimately, it may seem as if I had decided it by myself, but how was it really?

"Onii-sama, were you also invited by President Kumagawa?"

"Mm, how should I explain it—how far should I explain it?"

"Well, right now, Medaka-chan, there are things that you should know and things that you shouldn't. For the sake of your future."

"Those are words that don't seem very like you—isn't it your principle to draw out 100% of your target's power?"

"I'm saying that there's information that could be bothersome in drawing out 100% of that power. For example, just because a baby has good muscles, you wouldn't start feeding it protein, right?"

"So am I a baby to you, onii-sama?"

"That wasn't what I was trying to say... You shouldn't snap at me like that. Although, if you want, you're free to bite at me for real."

In that way, my brother dodged the question.

This time wasn't particularly special. My conversations with my brother usually went like this—he would treat me like a kid, and he wouldn't respond to me decently.

That sort of behavior.

That brother of mine probably never once thought about how much it hurt me.

"Well, if you don't like that comparison, then I'll take it back. But with that, just know that I don't necessarily think that you joining the Student Council is a good thing, Medaka-chan."

That was what my brother said.

His expression was the usual grin.

Well, even if I said it was the usual, it might not get across to you—but at any rate, he did not sound particularly serious.

"If it's true that you wouldn't have joined the Student Council Executive Committee if you'd known that I was a part of it, then I really should have publicized that information—instead of hiding it."

"So you did hide it. I thought it was weird that I didn't know about something like that."

"Well, Medaka-chan, you don't have much interest in others, so even if I didn't hide it, I figure you wouldn't have known about it anyway."

"I don't have much interest in others? Don't say something so stupid. I was born to be of use to other people, to strangers."

"You're saying something pretty incredible, huh."

Ahaha, laughed my brother.

It was as if my words didn't reach him at all.

I can more or less understand my brother's state of mind as I am now, but at the time, it was nothing but aggravating. Why was it so hard to understand each other despite being siblings? Why were we so incompatible? That was what I thought.

Perhaps that was a part of my idealism.

That siblings should understand each other.

That they should be able to get along.

Because my mind was rooted in such thinking, when it didn't match the world, I felt a sense of discrepancy—I was living by carrying that sort of imaginary stress on my shoulders, so I can understand now why Zenkichi was worried about me.

Thinking about it, I do regret it.

If only I had realized three years ago.

If so, at the very least, I wouldn't have accepted President Kumagawa's invitation to become the Treasurer of Hakobune Middle School's Student Council Executive Committee.

"In that case, I was born to show love towards my little sister."

My brother laughed.

Though rather than laughing, it seemed more like he was ridiculing me.

"Medaka-chan. For you, how much does the world encompass?"

"Huh?"

I was bewildered at the sudden question.

Although, it was rare that I wasn't bewildered when it came to talking with my brother.

"What do you mean by that? The world?"

"Yes, the world. When you hear the phrase 'the world', Medaka-chan, where do you think that is? When you say the phrase 'the world', how many meters is the radius you're referring to?"

"......"

I couldn't figure out the intention behind his question.

It was probably some sort of psychology test, so it was probably something I could answer with whatever came to mind, but I could only assume that such things varied from time to time.

"...I don't really see a meaning to trying to perceive the range of the world, but if I have to answer, wouldn't the world refer to everything in this world? Basically—the greatest range possible. That's what I perceive as the world."

"As I expected. Since you are greedy, after all."

"Greedy?"

Yet another awful word.

Even for a lack of restraint around family members, it was pretty terrible.

"What about me is greedy?"

"Ultimately, the world is limited to the range which you can affect—so when you imagine everything in this world, that's no different from saying that you want to make everything in this world yours."

In my eyes, you're no different from a Great Demon Lord scheming for world domination, said my brother.

A Great Demon Lord, he said.

For lack of a better word, that was awful.

That was what I thought, but I learned afterwards that he was simply likening me to an RPG or some other game. It was an apt metaphor for my brother, whose hobby—or perhaps doctrine—was to raise the level of game characters to level 99, so to speak, but since I didn't have that level of knowledge about games, I didn't realize it.

"If we take it there, then Kumagawa-kun is different. He's the complete opposite of you, Medaka-chan."

"How is it different? The way he thinks, and the way I think?"

My state of mind wasn't exactly calm anymore, but I still wanted to hear my brother's opinion on the matter.

Kumagawa Misogi.

That unidentifiable, quite the unidentifiable boy. How had my brother analyzed him?—that was what I'd come to ask in the first place.

"Medaka-chan. If you're trying to conquer the world."

Without putting on airs, without trying to sound meaningful.

My brother spoke casually.

"Kumagawa-kun—wants to destroy the world."

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izzielizzie · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Could you write one shot about Maeve and Bronwyn's talk after the explosion when they're back home for example: like she tells her about the game, Luis and tries to calm her down? Hope you like the idea!

yes! oouin had so much to unpack in terms of Maeve and her development so i really like this idea. enjoy!

“The wedding was so pretty,” Bronwyn says as we climb up the stairs to our rooms. It’s weird, in a way, to be here in my home with my sister wearing a fancy dress and heels that are giving me blisters when just twenty four hours ago, Knox and I were trying to figure out who Jared was.

“Yeah,” I agree absentmindedly. My phone is buzzing in my hand, and I know without looking down at it that it’s Luis.

“Is that Luis?” Bronwyn asks as we reach the second floor.

“Yeah, probably.”

Bronwyn raises her eyebrows at me. “Your boyfriend?”

“We’re not five!” I call after her as we branch off to our separate rooms. I can hear her laughing from across the hall.

I glance at my phone as I push open the door to my room. Just as I predicted, a text from Luis flashes my screen. Are you okay? Luis has been asking me this periodically, just to make sure, and while it’s so damn sweet, I wish I knew how to answer. Because honestly? I’m not. Too much has happened and I don’t know how to unpack it. Or if I even can.

I look up and see my room, which has all the clothes from my closet strewn everywhere: on top of my desk, my chair, my window seat, my dresser, my bed, and even the rug on my floor. I smile a little at the memory of my mother and sister sitting in my room, searching my closet for wedding-appropriate dresses and slowly reclaiming clothes I had stolen from them. That feels like a million years ago, and a wave of exhaustion that had rolled past me last night hits me, and my head is pounding as I collapse on my bed, on top of my dad’s old Yale Soccer hoodie and my jeans that have so many patches on them they look like a cloth store advertisement.

My head just misses the pillow, and my phone slides out of my grasp, thudding onto the ground. “Maeve?” Bronwyn calls. I don’t respond. All I want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep. I hear Bronwyn call my name again. I don’t respond, and a moment later my sister is barging into my room, crouching in front of me and shaking my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I nod through my headache. Bronwyn looks relieved. She looks around my room for a moment, picks my phone up, places it on my side table, and pushes away a pile of shorts to sit on the bed next to me. She strokes my hair gently, like my mother did when I was younger and the chemo made me nauseous. I want to pull away from her and sleep, but I feel too cozy, especially when she pauses for a moment to pull my purple blanket out from under a pile of tank tops and drape it over me. She rolls me over and pulls the clothes out from under me, and I put my head on her lap.

“Maevey, do you want to talk about anything?”

What I really want to do is sleep, cry, and maybe eat a pint of ice cream, not in that particular order, but talking with my sister has always had a calming effect on me, so I nod.

Bronwyn strokes my hair thoughtfully before tentatively saying, “when did the texting game start?”

I make a noise in the back of my throat, and thankfully Bronwyn understands that I don’t want to start with that. “Okay, when did your nose start bleeding?”

I don’t respond. Bronwyn sighs, pauses, and asks me the question I know she’s been dying to ask me: “so when did you start dating Luis?”

“Two days ago,” I mumble.

“I’m sorry honey, can you say that louder?”

I roll over until I’m looking directly above me. Bronwyn’s looking down at me, and the look on her face, half exasperation and half amusement, looks so much like Mom’s that I can’t help but laugh. Bronwyn smiles and subconsciously rubs at her face. “What?”

“Nothing, you just look like Mom.”

“Says you!”

The general consensus in our family is that I look exactly like my mother (if my mother had brown hair). I laugh, and I’m surprised at how good it feels. Bronwyn looks down at me with her sternest look and asks me about Luis again.

“Two days ago.”

“That’s so cute Maeve. He’s nice.”

“Yeah, he is,” I say. I sound like a dreamy love sick teenager, and I’m surprised that Bronwyn hasn’t commented on it. “But…”

“But what?”

“I feel bad.”

“What, why?”

“I might have…” I trail off, not sure how to talk about Cooper’s game.

“You might have what?”

“Called him an airhead.”

“What!” Bronwyn explodes. Confrontation isn’t really my style.

“Well, not ‘airhead’ specifically. More like a dudebro.”

Bronwyn shakes her head at me. “Why?”

“Because he was with Monica Hill and I was jealous and not thinking.”

“Clearly,” Bronwyn mumbles. Bronwyn doesn’t seem to understand that people can hear her when she mumbles. “Did he forgive you?” she asks out loud.

“Yeah, he did. But I don’t know. Maybe he just forgave me because I thought I was dying and everyone thought I was dying. Maybe he thought it would be unkind to be mad at a girl who might have cancer.”

A look of understanding flits across my sister’s face as she buries her fingers in my braided crown. “You’re worried that he doesn’t like you for you.”

I nod. “Yeah.” I love how my sister knows what I mean without me saying it. Bronwyn thinks for a moment as I shift, my dress becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I press my head against a hair pin and wince. I’d change but... I don’t have the energy. In her understanding older sister way, Bronwyn pulls me up so I’m sitting in her lap. She lets me slump against her shoulder as she undoes my intricate hair.

“I think, Maevey,” Bronwyn says, continuing our conversation as she pulls hair pins out of my hair and places them on my side table. “That you’ve gotten it into your head that you’re unlovable.”

“Hey,” I protest. I’d argue that, but I don’t have the mental capacity and some part of me thinks that maybe... she’s right. I’d protested so hard when Phoebe and Addy told me Luis liked me, and when I left after our kiss, I didn’t really leave because I was awkward and uncomfortable. I just left because I didn’t want Luis to throw me to the side like he does with every other girl. So I did it first. When my mom says preventative measures are important, I don’t think she means it like that.

“You have honey, don’t even try to argue.” Bronwyn pulls the last pin out of my hair and runs her fingers through it, letting the stands fall down to the small of my back. I lean back against her shoulder and she wraps her arms around my waist, rocking me back and forth. “But the thing is Maeve,” Bronwyn starts hesitantly.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“I’ve been watching you, and Luis, for the past year. Cooper was the one who told me that Luis had a crush on you and I was going to tell him to leave you be but...”

“But?”

“But I’d never seen anyone look at someone the way Luis looked at you.” I don’t respond so my sister continues. “He always looked at you when he made a joke to see if you laughed. He was always the first one to smile at you when you entered a room. Maeve people spend their whole lives waiting for someone who choses them first. And, Maeve, you found your person and you weren’t even looking.”

I close my eyes. “Okay. But what about now? After all the stuff that happened? My history with Knox. My cancer. What if he doesn’t want that in his life?”

I feel Bronwyn tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “Maeve, last night, Luis wouldn’t let go of you. I was watching him and...” Bronwyn trails off for a moment, finding her words. “You were his first priority. Even above himself. He loves you Maeve. And maybe you aren’t ready to love him back, that’s okay, but I think you should give him a chance. And more importantly, give yourself a chance. You are worth the world and then some, and it’s time you believe that.”

“Even if I don’t know which college I want to go to?” I ask. Bronwyn’s constant fear - for me and for Nate - means that we haven’t had the Get Your Life Back on Track and Fast conversation, but I can feel it coming.

“Even then,” Bronwyn says with such certainty that I open my eyes and sit up to look at her. She’s smiling at me a little.

“Do you mean that?” I ask, surprised.

“Of course I do. And I want to apologize.” Bronwyn puts her hands on either side of my head, the way Dad does when he’s proud of me. He’s done that a lot today. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

“No, Bronwyn, you-”

“I have Maeve,” Bronwyn says, interrupting me gently. “I left for college, and the only time I checked in with you was to make sure you were gearing up to do the same. I pestered you so much. No wonder you didn’t tell me about the nose bleeds.” I try to interrupt, but she keeps talking. “Maevey, you are my little sister. You mean the world to me. I was so scared that you were going to suffer, and I though that if you did the same thing as me, you wouldn’t. But that wasn’t true. And when you started building your life back together, I was afraid that you’d... do it wrong or something. It makes me sound so awful now, so I thought if you followed in my footsteps you’d be safe. But I forgot how strong you are. I’ve seen you fight for you life, and I didn’t realize that it made you strong in ways we can’t even imagine.” She’s crying now, and I think I am too. “And I’m sorry that I ever made you feel that you couldn’t talk to me. About any of this stuff. I’m going to try to be better.”

I think about all the people in the last few months who have stood at my side without me realizing: Knox, Phoebe, Nate, Luis, and Addy too. She was there, gently pushing me towards the person who will love me for as long as I let him. I realize, now, that I couldn’t have gotten through the last few weeks without them.

“I’m going to try to be better too,” I say, mimicking Bronwyn’s hand placement, my fingers in her curls. “I’m not going to push people I love away anymore.”

Bronwyn smiles at me, tears in her grey eyes and a strange look on her face.

“What?” I demand.

“You’re really beautiful.”

I smile. “You’re beautiful-er”

“Not a word.”

“I don’t care.” I say, pulling her into a fierce hug.

The next moment I wake tangled in clothes and wrapped in my sister’s arms. My phone is buzzing again and I have four missed texts, two from Luis, one from Nate, and one from Phoebe.

I read Nate’s first: where’s your sister?

Sleeping I respond, glancing at my sister’s face.

I wait to respond to Phoebe’s text about missing school this week, since I’m not sure what to say to her yet, so I look at the ones from Luis,

Morning Maeve

You okay?

I pause for a moment, thinking about everything I’ve still got to unpack and think about and accept, but for now, they don’t seem as daunting as they did last night.

Nearly, I type back.

#maeve rojas #one of us is lying #one of us is next #bronwyn rojas #queued #izzielizzie's fics

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kimpson · 3 years ago

Text

My name is James kim.

This Is How I Came To Know What I Now Know, That I Am helping patients all over the world. Am putting this down now because I have had allot of patients asked how I do came about this protocol.

feel grateful to be able to tell my story that will make you aware of my background and how I arrived here.

Like so many people, I was scared, tearful and very distraught after my mother received her cancer diagnosis. Over the next 6-12 months the medical establishment tried, but nothing the doctors had to offer appeared to stop the metastasized cancer from taking over her entire body. She did what research she could about terms like; how to get rid of cancer naturally, holistic treatments and cures for metastasized cancer, and alternative cancer treatments that work.

Sadly, she never found anything that she thought would work for her.

My Father also had a real scare with a cancerous left kidney. His cancer hadn’t metastasized so his Doctors removed the kidney and he has been fine ever since. Then a day that I hoped would never come, came.

My mother said she did not think she was going to survive her cancer, the thought of which left me terrified and petrified thinking I was going to lose my mother to cancer.

Worse yet, the thought of her spending her last days in a hospice bed paralyzed me with fear and left me wanting to do nothing more than to curl up in a corner somewhere.

But instead of feeling sorry for myself and wanting to do what I could to save my mother, I chose to spend my time Googling terms like; how to cure stage 4 cancer naturally, natural lung cancer cures, natural treatment for lung cancer, natural cure for lung cancer, natural remedies for lung cancer and a whole bunch more.

My wife saw me doing these online searches, and she and the kids pleaded with me to accept the inevitable and to start preparing myself for the worse.

I was a useless wreck!

My Only Options :

(1)Pray, hope and plead while waiting for cancer to kill her

(2)Try to figure out how to slow down or stop her cancer long enough for her to die from old age instead.

As you might have guessed, I chose option 2 and then I aggressively launched a mission to save her life. Fear and desperation are probably two of the greatest motivators there are.

Available on the web were tons of books and hundreds of websites offering anywhere from a single product that cures every disease mankind has ever known, including those trying to tell you how to get rid of cancer naturally. To even more websites offering “2-299 guaranteed surefire alternative lung cancer treatments using the root from some plant that is only found in the Amazon Rain Forest or on a mountain top somewhere in India.

Common sense and research told me that all of these were a waste of time.

Common Sense and Research

Let me be brutally honest with you. I found no magic pill or secret drug out there that could cure cancer or keep her alive.

Especially after you’ve done multiple rounds of chemo and/or radiation. Odds are it’s over! Close the shades, update your will, finalize your funeral arrangements, and kiss your family and friends goodbye. I was seeing this first hand with my mother, and the saddest part is that the only certain thing is WHEN and not IF she would succumb to the cancer metastasis.

Many times I wanted to give up on finding a solution. I had almost come to terms with the reality that she’d be dead in 6 Months. I went through a gamut of emotions like fear, anxiety, dread and anger. But I channeled those emotions and went about the work of saving her.

Please allow me the pleasure of sharing with you the ” Eureka” moment when everything all came together. What I found is:

I quickly concluded that after many decades of waging war on cancer there had to be legitimate, valid and credible studies that revealed an effective alternative cancer treatment protocol.

After hundreds, if not thousands of hours of searching the web and reading hundreds of these research studies, my hard work and relentless efforts were rewarded.

I found several studies that had been rigorously peer-reviewed and which were supported by hundreds more rigorously reviewed university studies. What all of these studies did was to put together for me a genuine, scientifically validated treatment program that was virtually certain, at a minimum, to stop her cancer metastasis in its tracks, if not outright cure it!

The researchers declared this treatment as, likely to be “more successful than current approaches because it is based on the principles of evolutionary biology and metabolic control analysis” and that it could truly be an alternative cancer treatment and cure.

So if you needed an:

-alternative breast cancer treatment

-alternative prostate cancer treatment

-alternative pancreatic cancer treatment

-alternative liver cancer treatment

Then this is your ticket to a real chance to treat and beat your disease!

However, I like to be as close to 100% sure as I can get. So I looked at how The American Cancer Society (ACS) evaluates mainstream and alternative cancer treatments.

They do this by asking three questions:

1) Has the method been objectively demonstrated in the peer-reviewed scientific literature to be effective?

2) Has the method shown potential for benefit that exceeds the potential for harm?

3) Have objective studies been correctly conducted under appropriate peer review to answer these questions?

Fortunately, I was able to answer all those questions with a resounding YES! Every single piece of knowledge reinforced my belief that this truly would give me a great chance at keeping her alive especially since current mainstream protocols like surgery, chemo, and radiation had failed her.

The Well-Known Secret is Finally Available

It’s not a secret that Big Pharma makes some very vicious business decisions. So it should be fairly easy to see there is not a Big Pharma business person that would spend millions to educate MDs or the General Public about a cheap and effective treatment protocol. Even if it has been scientifically validated by elite research scientists time and time again. Just because it has zero potential to add to Big Pharma’s already massive net profits.

But what I learnt earn is the findings scientists have known about for decades.

That you stand an outstanding chance of defeating cancer if not outright curing it, IF the right protocol is used.

What your cancer cells need to kill you, are the nutrients (glucose and secondarily glutamine) that the blood vessels bring to them so that they can continue to grow and metastasize. Because cancer in and of itself won’t kill you. It is the ongoing and uncontrolled growth of cancer that eventually overwhelms your body and kills you.

So the key to not dying from cancer is to be able to slow down or kill enough cancer cells so that they don’t overrun your body.

Research scientists have known and proven this over and over again for decades. This protocol teaches you the specific details of what to do so that you can effectively starve cancer and then eradicate it while ensuring that your normal cells remain very healthy. And the best part is, this protocol does it very quickly, cheaply and most importantly very EFFECTIVELY!

The 70+years of clinical science that supports it, is overwhelming.

If you have cancer of any origin, no matter how aggressive it is, or even if it has metastasized, YOU DON’T have to be DEAD too soon.

Quite the contrary, you will have a plan, that is a whole body and systemic protocol that will suffocate, starve, poison and kill cancer anywhere in the body. It matters not if it has been declared untreatable cancer. Metastasized or still localized. It doesn’t matter the origin (lung, breast, liver, pancreas, etc).

You Won’t Have to Worry to Death Anymore

#science #medicine #cancer #regenerative medicine #stem cells #leukemia #lymphoma #bone marrow transplant #gene therapy #molecular biology #cell biology #aging #academic medicine #ucsd #good news

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jadekitty777 · 4 years ago

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It’s done. It’s done! HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE. Two months later and I finally complete this monster of a tale. I can’t believe the effort this baby took that, once upon a time, was supposed to be a oneshot. Gosh, I hope for those reading the wait was worth it - I for one am so relieved to complete this!

(Still) Day 8: Free Day for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 16k - yes, 16,000 words

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: ...On Your Every Word

Between the hecticness of getting checked in, shown to a private room where Qrow was allowed to be uncuffed and dress in more ‘court appropriate’ attire, and then meeting up with Rhodes for one final run down – the next hour pretty much passed in a blur.

Before he knew it, he was walking into the massive conference room in which the UFK did all their business. The room was mostly taken up by tiered, half-circled seating so that the four kingdoms could face one another as they talked politics. But the rest of the room was left open, allowing for a “stage” in which prototypes of innovations could be placed or guest speakers could stand. This area had been transformed – at the far ends were two desks for the defense and prosecution to sit at and a single chair in the center for the testimony portion. There were a few reporters standing near the entrance so they could capture every second of the trial, but no gallery for an audience. Qrow wasn’t sure if that was better or worse.

He took the seat beside Rhodes at the defense table, clasping his hands in front of him to hide their shaking. He was certain his scent was giving him away anyways.

The prosecution came in next. The tall, sharply dressed beta strutted in with a smirk and an aura of arrogance, like he’d already won before proceeding had even begun. Qrow had heard bits and pieces about Arthur Watts – apparently, Pietro and he had a long-standing rivalry in the courtroom, though the elder man didn’t go much into it. What he had gathered was the lawyer was sharp on his feet and merciless. He could change tactics faster than a snake bite and the only defense who’d ever been able to keep up with his quick wit was Pietro himself.

“Gentlemen.” Watts greeted them, snide in just one word. Qrow was already annoyed.

The questioning portion was going to go great.

Finally, the entirety of the UFK filed in, taking their seats in their respective portions of the stands. Over thirty people in all, there were many faces Qrow recognized and even more he didn’t. Yet, the four that took the only seats in the front row, the heads of the councils, needed no introduction. First was the jovial and high-spirited Theodore, the representative of Vacuo, who’d held his position so long because the votes always ended in a landslide on his favor. Beside him was James Ironwood, holding two seats on the Atlas council and, as a medaled general of the military, had helped to fund some of the most prolific technological advancements of their age. Next sat Leonardo Lionheart of Mistral, a man who’d spent his many years in term building up the educational needs of his people, and had the average-high tests scores to prove that focus had paid off. Lastly, was Ozpin, who was the youngest head of Vale’s council ever to be inaugurated into office and since that induction, had been pushing forward as many progressive policy changes as he could.

These were the four Qrow would have to plead his case to and hope he drummed up enough sympathy for them to pardon him.

From the way they looked down upon him, eyes seeming to judge the very way he breathed, it never felt more impossible.

“If we’re all in order, I believe we may get started.” Ozpin was the one to speak up and though his voice was something Qrow recognized easily, there was something so uncanny hearing him in person, rather than on the radio or TV. “Though it’s a tad untraditional, Theo, James, Leo and I will all be your acting judges for this trial. Each one of us can sustain and abstain a motion and we will move this trial along if any filibustering starts up. Do you understand?”

“Yes, your honor.” Pietro replied, echoed by Watts.

“Good. Are the defense and prosecution ready?”

“We are your honor.”

Ozpin nodded. “Then, the trial of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms has officially begun. The prosecution may begin their opening statement.”

Qrow took a deep breath as he watched the opposing lawyer get to his feet.

Here we go.

“-are usually upset and asking for me to help them.”

“How do your clients find this hidden parlor of yours?”

It was too easy.

That was the whisper prickling at the back of his head, as he orated how his clients located him. Pietro and Rhodes had coached him, prepared him on what to say for every question and how much to say. So, he’d been expecting the interrogation of his livelihood – his full name, when he started his work, what he made financially, the ways he kept himself off the grid, where he purchased his inks and needles, how he mixed it with his own scent, who he contacted when he needed a new dwelling to hole up in.

It was everything he’d been expecting, which meant something was wrong.

“I see, so everything was word of mouth. Yet, you claim your average clientele was about 4 people a week.” Watts was pacing, a hand running over his mustache.

Qrow tried not to follow his movements too much, nor look up at the council staring down at him as he sat in the center chair, feeling like a jester about to perform. “Yes.”

The lawyer hesitated, hovering almost thoughtfully, before turning to face him fully. “That’s quite a lot for an underground business, Mr. Branwen. Are you certain there isn’t something else you were offering your clients?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.” He replied stiffly, the stifling vernacular feeling odd on his tongue.

“Then let me rephrase: Were you also having sexual transactions with your clients?”

His eyes blew wide, his temper rising into an explosive, “WHAT?!” That wasn’t quite drowned out by Rhodes extremely loud, “OBJECTION! What’s the relevance?”

“I just find it strange that the accused has held up a traveling business for twelve years now on underpaid work, yet kept up a steady stream of customers. Customers whom, may I remind the court, are already feeling emotionally vulnerable – as Mr. Branwen here himself has already attested to. As an outsider looking in, that raises some concerns.” Watts didn’t quite hide his smirk as he looked up at the council, and Qrow realized at that moment he’d gotten him. He had been trying to throw him off kilter, and it had worked.

“Abstained.” Leonardo said just as Theodore enthusiastically hollered, “Sustained!”

The Mistrialian shot his fellow councilman a frown. “What? Why?”

“I just want to see where this goes.” He looked a little too proud as he lent back in his chair. Qrow felt himself sinking in his own.

“This isn’t a courtroom drama, Theo. We can’t simply have people follow useless tracks of information simply to indulge ourselves.” The other said, sounding like a man whose patience was already wearing thin. “This has nothing to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for.”

Theodore rose a finger, tsking. “Isn’t it though? Mr. Branwen is on about a dozen counts of misconduct and malpractice. Who’s to say this isn’t relevant?”

“Well…” Leo started, then merely trailed off with a shake of his head, as if he’d lost the heart to fight.

For a split second, it seemed the motion from Vacuo would pull through – then James spoke up instead. “Be that as it may, there is no evidence to continue this inquisition.”

In all his years, Qrow never thought he’d want to thank Tin Man Jimmy, but right then he could have kissed him.

Then Watts had to open his mouth yet again, “I actually believe one very specific document we’ve submitted might in fact raise some concerns that not all of Mr. Branwen’s dealings were solely professional. But if it would please the court, I can rephrase again.”

What!?

As the council leaders mulled that over, Qrow sent a panicked glance back at his lawyers. The duo shared a look, before Rhodes made a quick hand gesture of twirling his index fingers around one another.

Roll with it.

How was he supposed to just-

“We’ll allow it, for now.” Ozpin decided, sealing his fate. “Proceed.”

Watts nodded before turning back to him, looking very much like a shark about to circle its’ prey. “Mr. Branwen, you’re an unbound alpha, correct?”

“Yes.” He answered, forcing down the growl that wanted to erupt.

“And as you’ve reported, every single one of your clients was an omega. It would not be unusual for a connection, of sorts, to come about. These things happen every single day after all.” Watts said, gesturing to the air as if love was equally plentiful. “So, my question is, did you ever develop feelings for any of them?”

His reply was short and clipped, “Of course not.”

“May I remind you Mr. Branwen, that you are under oath. Is what you just said completely true?”

For a split second, he hesitated. There was no way he could know.

…Right?

Yet, something about the glint in the beta’s eye told him to be wary, so this time when he repeated his defense, it was as unambiguous as possible, “I never developed any feelings for any of my clients while I was working with them.”

“I find that’s a very interesting claim to make.” Watts strode over to the far side table, where the evidence for the case had been laid out. His tattoo machine and inks were the most prominent pieces there, but the lawyer bypassed them, rifling through a stack of papers at the end of the table. When he returned to where Qrow was sitting, he was holding just one sheet. “I have here a log of all visits made to you during your stay at the prison. I’d like you to read a few of them for me.”

Oh fuck.

“Let’s start with November 30th, shall we?”

Mouth dry, Qrow weakly said, “Pietro Polendina and Rhodes Dium.”

“Your lawyers, of course. And December 6th?”

He almost felt detached from his own body as he obediently read it off, “Taiyang Xiao Long, Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose.”

“The clearance level for these three lists them as family.” The beta glanced up towards the court to clarify. “Records show that Taiyang and Mr. Branwen’s twin sister Raven are the sires for Yang Xiao Long. Now…”

Qrow braced himself as Watts looked down on him once more.

“What about November 27th?”

He blinked, so baffled he gave an audible, “Huh?”

“November 27th, right up here Mr. Branwen. What does it say?”

His gaze followed where the other was pointing. “Clover Ebi?”

In the corner of his eye, he noticed how James sat up a little straighter, a hint of metallic musk filling the room, but most of his focus stayed on Watts. He couldn’t actually be thinking that he… and Clover…

Yet, sure enough, the beta pulled the page away and said, “Now why would the Captain of the Atlas Ace Ops be visiting you?”

Qrow couldn’t quite fight the smile on his face and for the first time since the trial had started, he felt himself relax. He knew Clover was down the hall, probably laughing his head off as he waited for his turn to take the stand.

“Something humorous, Mr. Branwen?”

He settled back. “Of you thinking Clover and I are getting it on under the sheets? Yeah, that’s hilarious.” He heard more than one barely contained chuckle from around him – and Theodore didn’t even try. “Clover’s a former client and a friend. When he found out I got into a bind, he came by to help me out. There’s nothing more to our relationship beyond that.”

Again, even as his attention stayed mostly on the beta, Qrow noticed the Atlas leader lowering his hackles.

How odd.

Watts was glaring at him now, but Qrow didn’t balk, waiting for the other’s next move. The last thing he was expecting was what followed, “I have no further questions.” Before heading back to the prosecution desk.

Even Rhodes seemed confused as he was motioned over for the cross examination. Yet, as they met eyes, a silent agreement passed between them not to falter as they got ready to read their lines.

“And how old were you when you lost Eris Branwen?”

“Thirteen.”

It was the sob story of the ages.

At least, that’s what it was meant to sound like. Yet, as Qrow spun the tragedy of his childhood, he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed, using his mother’s name to try and sway the court.

Rhodes hummed, as if he were thinking it over, even though he already had the next question ready to go. “Would you say it was her passing that eventually inspired you to start your work?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t enough to simply speak it, he had to perform too. So, he kept his head angled down, playing it up like the loss was still affecting him terribly.

Purgatory. That was probably where he was going when he died. If not, then something worse. Some place with fire and pitchforks.

“What did you hope to accomplish?”

He clenched his fists, the ferocity in his tone no act, “At first, I was just kind of down on my luck and trying to make a quick buck. I had the drawing skills so I thought, why not? I could give omegas another way to get rid of their brands without them having to carve out their own skin, and make a little money on the side until I could find something more stable. But the more involved I got, the more I felt I couldn’t just walk away from this. I realized I was giving them something they desperately needed – a way to take back their lives.”

Qrow looked up, meeting eyes with each of the kingdom’s leaders as he spoke, “Every omega who has to go to a reformatory is branded. It doesn’t matter what reason they’re there. They could be considered too outspoken. They could have just lost a mate. They could be sick like my mom! And part of their bullshit recovery is to scar them? They don’t get a choice of anything – not the word, not the placement, not even that it happens.” He gestured a bit wildly, voice rising an octave. “They’re treated more like property then people! And while this is happening to thousands of omegas every year, too many of us look the other way. But after my clients started sharing their stories, their pain with me, I refused to look away anymore. So I decided to dedicate my life to my work.”

“Even knowing that one day, you’d probably end up in the courtroom?” Rhodes asked, voice soft in the wake of Qrow’s intensity.

“Yes.” He replied firmly. “I’d go to jail a thousand times over if it meant making the difference for just one person.”

“And how do you know that it does?”

Internally, he felt himself ease, knowing this was the last question. “Because they keep finding me. No one would keep telling others where I am if they didn’t think I’d helped them.”

Rhodes nodded, taking that in, before he moved to dismiss him, “Then Mr. Branwen, I only have one final question.”

Wait, that wasn’t the plan!

Qrow tensed as the beta continued, “You’ve already attested with the prosecution that your relationships with your clients were always kept either on a professional or platonic level. Is there a particular reason why?”

He took note of the way the lawyer shot a meaningful glance towards Watts’ table, and it clicked. Right, Clover’s testimony went after his – there was no doubt the opposing lawyer was going to try poking holes in his own story by grilling the omega. This was his last chance to strengthen his own case.

He could have said anything, really, but what Qrow decided on was the truth, “Because I was already in love with someone well before the day I started my first tattoo.” His lips quirked up, the smile small but eternally fond, “He never felt the same, but I already know no one is ever going to take his place in my heart.”

What must Tai be thinking, watching this from home?

Heh, he probably thought he was pathetic.

If Rhodes was surprised by this revelation, he didn’t show it. “Thank you, Mr. Branwen. I have no further questions. You can return to your seat now.”

As he stood, Qrow couldn’t help but glance back up at the leaders, trying to gauge their reactions. Theo was nodding to something his most trusted righthand, Xanthe Rumpole, was whispering in his ear, their expressions a bit tight. James seemed lost in thought, rapping his knuckles along the desk in front of him. Leo kept mussing up his mane of hair, frown pronounced. As for Ozpin, he was a complete enigma. Expression hidden behind the hands crossed in front of him and eyes concealed in the glint of his glasses, it was impossible to say what he was feeling.

It was even more impossible to say whether any of it was positive or not.

He slumped back into his seat, accepting the pat from Pietro and whispered, “You did good my boy.”

“Sure hope so.” He murmured back. It was a relief to be done – but the trial had only just begun.

Across the room, Watts stood to call on the first witness.

“Name and occupation.”

“Clover Ebi. I’m the Captain of the Ace Ops.” The announcement was almost unneeded, as the omega had come dressed in full uniform, all his merits in plain view. He was even standing at parade rest, rather than taking the seat offered. But the most obstruse item of all was the mark on his arm – normally covered by a bandanna, the tattoo on the lower part of his bicep was in plain view. It was a simple rewrite of Ebi, now in brilliant green ink, with a trail of linked shamrocks branching off from the end of the I and circling around his arm to meet back at the E.

Watts’ eyes narrowed as he regarded him before turning to the council, eyeing Atlas’ side. “Before I go further, perhaps it would be wise to address the obvious conflict of interest here.”

“Objection.” Pietro called. “Arthur, we cleared this prior to coming here. If this was a concern, it should have been brought up then.”

“A slip of judgment on my part, clearly. It does not change the fact that the person who appointed the good captain here to that position is currently sitting as an acting judge right now.”

James crossed his arms over the table, leaning forward. “If it would ease any concerns, I could certainly testify as well.”

“Ah, not to correct you your honor, but the proper ethical thing to do is to disqualify yourself.” Watts said, running his index and thumb over his mustache. Qrow almost expected him to start twirling the ends of it.

This wasn’t good though. James had two votes on the Atlas council – if he was taken out of the equation, it would be nearly impossible to win Atlas’ judgment.

Underneath the table, Qrow’s foot started to bounce nervously.

Next to him, Rhodes lent in, murmuring, “It’s okay, we were expecting this to happen.”

Sure enough, Pietro cleared his throat, clarifying in a way that almost sound practiced, “I think the proper term in this instance is ‘excuse’, as he should only need to be absent for the proceeding he may be biased against. General Ironwood would clearly be welcome to return once Captain Ebi’s testimony is finished. If that is how the court wishes to proceed of course.”

There were some whispers from above, but it was Leo who spoke first, “It would probably be for the best James.”

“Ha! Yeah, he is your golden pup after all.” Theo joked boisterously.

James shot the Vacuon a disapproving glance, “Must you be so crude?” He turned to the man across from him. “Oz?”

“I have to agree.” He decided. “Your judgment is generally sound, but the connection is undeniable. Stepping down for now is the right call.”

“Very well. Feel free to come get me once this portion is complete.” The general stood.

Almost automatically, Clover saluted him. “Sir.”

In the wake of his departure, Qrow could hear the reporters jabbering on excitedly from the back. Faintly he could pick out one of them saying, “There’s no telling how Atlas’ judgment will go with the head of the council being excused during their most critical witness.”

It filled him with dread – but between Rhodes and Pietro, neither of them looked even slightly unfettered.

“The prosecution may continue.” Leo allowed.

“Thank you, your honor.”

Round and round the questioning went again. Back in parade rest, Clover answered everything with a decisive and steady demeanor. Most of it was the typical stuff – when had he first heard about Qrow, how did he locate him, how much did it cost him to have the work done.

Eventually, the dreaded one came: “During your dealing with the defendant, did he ever show any inappropriate behavior towards you?”

“No. He was very professional and respectful of my personal space.” Clover reported.

Watts rocked back a bit on his heels. “But unlike most of Mr. Branwen’s clients, you happened to keep in touch with him?”

“Not exactly. I left Qrow my contact information in case he ever got into trouble and needed help. He only utilized it a few times over the years.”

“Is that how you ended up visiting the defendant on November 27th? He called you?”

Clover shook his head. “No. Qrow was never allowed to make a phone call.”

“That means you would have had to of located him on your own.”

“Yes.”

“I apologize but I don’t seem to understand.” Watts held out his hand, as if gesturing for the other to throw him a bone. “You’re telling me that for the most part, your relationship ended after the transaction. Yet, when Mr. Branwen was arrested, you voluntarily chose to locate him?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you go through such a hassle for someone you’ve met all of once and talked to only a handful of times?”

Clover shifted his head, just enough to spare Qrow a glance over his shoulder, before he faced forward once more. “Everyone needs someone in their court when they need help. Qrow had sacrificed a multitude of things to be in ours. I wanted to be in his if there ever came a time he needed it.”

“So it was merely obligation.”

“No.” Every without seeing his face, Qrow could hear the smile in the omega’s voice, “I’d like to think we’re friends.”

Watts didn’t seem moved by this show of comradery. “Are you absolutely certain Captain Ebi that there is not more to your feelings then that?”

“I’m positive. But if you need proof,” Clover posture relaxed so he could reach up, pulling down his collar in a way that was almost obscene. “I can assure you I did not get this from Qrow.”

Watts stared, then hissed between grit teeth, “I have no further questions.”

As he stepped away, the council went alive with noise as did the reporters. Qrow could already hear tomorrow’s headlines.

Ace-Ops Captain, Bonded?!

He swallowed down the guilt as he imagined the heckling the omega was likely to get upon returning to work. While he only knew the rough basics of military culture, he absolutely knew how much shit omegas got if they were discovered to be in any sort of relationship. The few retired ones he’d worked with over the years all generally held the same belief that joining the service not only meant signing away their life but also their right to finding a mate.

If that weren’t bad enough, Clover would also have to deal with Jam-

Qrow could practically hear the flip switching the light on, his eyes going wide.

No fucking way.

He glanced over at Rhodes as the man got to his feet to start his cross-examination, giving him an assured smile as he went. To his left, Pietro just seemed pleased, like things had gone exactly the way they’d planned. Had this been why they hadn’t been worried when James got tossed out? Because the mere presence of his own mate would have a sway on him?

That was either ridiculously brilliant or needlessly risky. No wonder they were the perfect lawyers for him.

Like a major gearing up to grill down a new recruit, Rhodes paced back and forth across the floor as he spoke, “Captain Ebi, you claimed Qrow was not given a phone call when he was imprisoned. Do you have proof of this statement?”

“Beyond Qrow’s word, no.” Clover admitted. Unlike Qrow, who was following his lawyer’s movements, the soldier was perfectly disciplined, staring straight ahead.

“Then, what makes you so certain he’s telling the truth?”

Before he could reply, Watts interjected, “Objection, that answer would be an opinion not a fact.”

“I’ll retract it then.” Rhodes conceded. “Captain, were there any other issues with my client’s legal rights that you’re aware of?”

Clover nodded once. “He wasn’t in the public system. Everyone incarcerated should be listed there, but I had to use my military clearance to locate him instead.”

“And how-”

Obnoxiously, Watts cleared his throat. Qrow couldn’t help but shoot the other man a glare – though the lawyer hardly seemed to notice as he drawled, “As fascinating as this all is, that’s prejudicial evidence and has very little to do with the crime the defendant is being tried for. If Mr. Branwen wishes to file for improper due process, he can handle that in Atlas’ civil courts.”

“Sustained. Mr. Dium, I suggest moving on.” Oz decided.

“Yes, your honor.”

It wasn’t a surprising outcome; truthfully, they’d both told Qrow it would likely get tossed out before they really took off running with it – especially after they discovered who the prosecutor was. Regardless, they’d agreed to keep it in to hopefully drum up more sympathy in the council. With so little said, it was hard to say if it would make an impact at all.

Hardly shaken, Rhodes barreled on. “Captain Ebi, you attested before that omegas in the military are branded with their last name. When does this procedure occur?”

“During the first week of recruitment training.” Clover reported.

“Do you get to choose where that mark goes?”

“No.”

“And alphas and betas are exempt from this?”

“Yes. Only omegas have to go to the brander.”

“I see.” The lawyer paced over to stand before him. “Did any of your commanding officers ever explain this discrepancy?”

Though Clover remained steady, Qrow could see the way his hands clenched a little tighter where they were crossed behind his back. “My sergeant at the time had said that when we signed up, we signed away everything to our Kingdom, including our bodies. Since omegas can’t control their scents or how distracting they might be to the other alphas in service, the tattooing was a way to alter that smell so it would be less desirable.”

“Now, perhaps this is merely because I’m a beta,” Rhodes waved a hand to himself as he said this, “But I always believed alphas had just as strong of a scent. Are you saying theirs wasn’t distracting to you on the field?”

The soldier shook his head in response. “No, they were. A few omegas were even known to freeze if an alpha’s scent was particularly overtaking in the moment.”

Though his eyes were trained on the two of them, in the corner of his eye Qrow noticed the furtive looks Sleet and Camilla – two of Atlas’ council – were sharing. Yet, it was anyone’s guess if their concerns came from the obvious discriminations or from allowing omegas to enlist at all.

“Did no one notice that issue?” Rhodes asked, beginning to pace again.

“They did – but our drill sergeants would only lay in on the recruit for losing their nerve.” Clover explained.

“During your time at the training camp, did anyone ever claim they had frozen up from an alpha’s scent?”

“No. Everyone was too afraid too. I spoke up once though when one of my buddies was getting reamed for it.”

“And what happened when you did that?”

“I was told to drop until I dropped.” At Rhodes’ arched brow, Clover clarified, “Meaning I was forced to do physical exercise until I was close to passing out. It was a common punishment for extreme insubordination.”

Qrow had heard this story before – it had been one the younger had shared with him while under the needle. That was how he knew just how much Clover was glossing over. Like how his drill sergeant at the time was also an alpha, and when she started shouting at the recruit in question, the shock of another alpha’s hormones so soon after the first only caused them to freeze up more. Or how the screaming had gone on for nearly ten minutes before Clover had stepped in. That during the duration of his punishment, the omega was constantly forced to push his limits every time he fell down from exhaustion, because his sergeant would threaten him with being kicked out if he didn’t get up.

It was from that, that Qrow finally understood why Clover had wanted the rebrand so badly.

Either Rhodes had already also noticed the inequity or had planned out his questions, because his next was: “Was anyone else given the same treatment for speaking out of turn?”

“No.” Clover’s tone didn’t quite hide his annoyance. “The only other time I saw someone go through it was for someone who tried to smuggle beer out of the kitchen.”

“Would you say this experience was what led you to eventually find my client and ask for his assistance?” Rhodes had stopped again, facing him once more.

“Yes; when I was appointed Captain, I felt a responsibility to my fellow omegas to take a stand against the inequalities we face in the military. Rebranding was the most visual way I felt I could do that.”

“Yet, until this day, no one publicly knew about your rebranding. Is there a reason for this?”

He hesitated, before continuing bravely, “My significant other convinced me not to. He said that I was already rocking the boat and if I rocked any harder then I’d capsize it. I took his advice to heart and committed myself to waiting.”

“And what were you waiting for?”

For the first time, Clover dared to break posture, looking up at the council as he declared, “A day in which I could tell my story and know people were finally listening.”

A brief but powerful hush fell across the court.

Rhodes let it hold a few seconds more, before finally saying, “Thank you Captain Ebi. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

There was no denying that something had changed in the court. The air had become tense and heavy.

It only seemed to grow as Maria took the stand next. To appear less threatening, Pietro took over the questioning when it came time for the cross examination. That way it seemed kinder as his questions unraveled bits and pieces of Maria’s past as a trafficked omega when she was only thirteen. Hearing it the second time through was no less easy then the first, and Qrow had to lower his head to hide his shining eyes. Simultaneously, Theo’s jokes seemed to disappear, his expression having hardened to something grave as he listened to one of his own people’s cruel upbringing.

“In my time, there was no way to take a stand against the things that happened to us.” Maria pointed her cane towards Qrow. “Having that whippersnapper over there redo my mark was my way of fighting back after all these years. The atrocities of my generation are thankfully long gone; but it’s clear to me there’s still much to be done with this one.”

After her, was Robyn. Needing no coddling, Rhodes stood at the forefront once more – but he hardly had to ask questions to get the woman to talk. She hadn’t taken the position of the Omega Alliance’s leader by being quiet after all.

That’s perhaps why it seemed to boom across the walls as she pointed up at the council, “With all due respect to the court, not a single person on any of the four councils is an omega! Who speaks for us? Our rights are decided by those who don’t know what it’s like to live oppressed. That’s why the Alliance protected Qrow – because when you’re oppressed or even simply supporting the oppressed, the rest of the world is quick to try and silence you.”

By the time Rhodes was dismissing her and taking his seat once more, he seemed a bit overwhelmed. “Miss Hill is quite the spitfire, isn’t she?”

“That she is. I think even our council was a bit overcome, seeing her in person.” Pietro’s laugh was hearty.

Qrow couldn’t fight the faint smile, though his nerves quickly took it away. There was only one witness left and then it was judgment time. The hours they had been at this suddenly seemed too short. “So, only Vernal left?” He asked needlessly, wincing when his voice cracked.

“Well, actually-”

Pietro never got to finish as Watts stood up and said, “I’d like to call the final witness, Taiyang Xiao Long, to the stand.”

There was no conscious thought.

He stood up, fast enough his chair tipped over, snarling angrily at the other lawyer, “WHAT?!”

In the next second, Rhodes was pulling him down by his arm, getting to his feet and saying rapidly, “Ah, can the defense have a quick recess first please?”

“I see no reason for that. We’re almost at the end and the UFK’s time is very valuable.” Watts interjected, smirking like things were finally going his way. “We can simply excuse Mr. Branwen if he can’t control himself.”

Fuck everything. He was going to go punch him in the face.

“Now, now, let’s all just calm down. It’s been a very long day and I’m sure all of us could use a breather.” Oz held a hand out towards their table, as if offering them a bone. “Fifteen minutes for the defense.”

They made it out the door in one.

The little sitting room he was brought to by a guard was entirely ignored as he whirled on his lawyers, voice rising, “How could you do this to him?!”

“Now Qrow-”

“Don’t!” He growled, not that it had any effect on the betas. “Denounce him as a witness! I am not going to allow you all to humiliate my best friend in front of the whole world!”

“We can’t do that. The only way Taiyang can be dismissed at this point is if he refuses to testify.” Pietro explained.

“Oh fucking perfect! This is just...!” Qrow threw up his hands, storming to the other side of the room. It was only the fact that the armchairs looked more expensive than his childhood house that prevented him from kicking any of them.

He picked up a forgotten notepad from one of the tables, tearing the pages to pieces instead.

Pietro rolled up beside him. “We didn’t seek him out. He volunteered to testify.”

“And you let him?!” Riiip. “You’re so smart, but you couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want him to be a part of this?”

“We know you’re hopelessly in love with him.”

It was a good thing magic didn’t exist – otherwise the glare he sent to Rhodes might have melted him on the spot.

Pietro hastily intervened, “What my associate means to say is, we understand your feelings have led you to be… less than objective on this matter.”

He couldn’t turn his imaginary superpower on the old man even if he tried, so he just went back to his quiet destruction.

“But the fact of the matter is, no one made this choice but Taiyang. For the same reason I imagine you made yours, my boy.” He gave him a comforting pat. “He wanted to protect you.”

Qrow paused halfway through a sheet. But after a beat, he scowled, tearing the rest. “Of course he does, that’s just… him! He’s not thinking it through. If this goes badly, he’ll never be able to get away from being part of this case. Someone will always remember. I don’t want him to live with that shame.”

“You know, I sat down with all the potential witnesses.” Rhodes began gently, “Most of them had another agenda, coming here. Good ones, of course, but still. Everyone else we considered were all preoccupied with making a statement. Taiyang was the only one who came here solely for you.” He came over, standing on his other side. “I don’t think the repercussions matter, even if he hasn’t considered them. Because to him you’re worth the risk.”

His old friend, Déjà Vu, nettled at the back of his head. Why did that sound so familiar?

Pietro added, “I think we all also agree you certainly shouldn’t go rotting away in a prison either. So, trust us all a little bit longer. We’ll see this through.”

“Can’t cry ‘till it’s all over, right?” Qrow grumbled, the ripping finally stopped.

“That’s how it goes. Chin up, my boy. We got a case to win.”

It was certain. After today, wherever Qrow was going after he died, a section would be reserved solely for him.

Because he seriously could not be marveling just how wonderful Tai looked in a suit as he walked into the room. He even shot Qrow his ever-radiant smile as he made his way between the tables, taking his seat in the chair still set in the center of the room.

Leo lent forward. “Young man, do you swear that everything you are about to say will be nothing but the truth?”

“I do.” Tai said, placing a hand to his heart.

“The prosecution may proceed.”

Watts stood. “Thank you, your honor.” He was already spitting out his first question as he crossed over. “Please state your name and occupation for the court.”

“Taiyang Xiao Long. I’m an 8th grade teacher at Signal Academy.”

“Mr. Xiao Long, how did you come to know the defendant?”

Tai lent back in the chair, crossing his ankle over his knee as if he was about to have a casual conversation with the other man. “We grew up a few houses down from each other. Both our parents were of Mistrialian descent and Qrow’s family had recently moved to Patch. My mother felt it was important we got to know them and make them feel welcome. The rest is history.”

“What age were you?” Watts plucked at his mustache. Every time he did, Qrow couldn’t help but think the other was scheming up something.

“It was right before 1st grade started, so I was five, almost six. And Qrow was already six.”

“That’s quite a long time. And what would you consider your relationship with Qrow to be?”

“We’re best friends.”

Watts arched one fine eyebrow. “Not brother-in-laws? After all, the record shows Yang is his biological niece.”

“Uh, well,” The omega rubbed the back of his neck. “Raven and I never married. So, we’re not legally related.”

“I see.” Was the reply, something methodical behind the way the elder let the words drawl out slowly. Stalling as he thought. “But you two have remained close all these years?”

“I mean, we’ve had our ups and downs like any other friendship and his work tends to keep him distant.” Tai lent back, his next statement confident and sincere, “But yes, Qrow is my closest and most trusted friend.”

Though Qrow already knew that truth, the sentiment still made his chest warm brilliantly.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t have a chance to settle, because Watts chose now to take the shot.

“So then surely you noticed when Qrow’s fascination with omegas first started?”

Tai spluttered. “P-Pardon?”

“Hmm, so that’s how he’s playing it.” Qrow barely caught Pietro’s murmur under the crack of Rhodes’ hand smacking the table.

“Objection! Arthur that’s a leading question.”

The other lawyer gave a shrug, as if it didn’t truly matter. “So it is. I retract it.”

Had he done that on purpose? Nails scratching across the table, Qrow barely withheld a scowl as he started to figure it out as well. Watts was trying to give the idea he was obsessed. It didn’t matter that the question was getting tossed aside; just the implication he wasn’t fully mentally sound would stand out.

He breathed out slow, trying to reign in the anxiety.

It was fine. They still had to do the cross examination – which would be the chance to do some damage control.

“Am I still allowed to answer it?”

The entire court’s attention snapped to Tai, shocked and bewildered.

A beat, then suddenly the reporters were in a frenzy while Qrow desperately tried not to tear out his own hair.

Tai what are you doing!?

Even Watts wasn’t completely unfazed, having to clear his throat first. “Uh, yes, well... I suppose that is up to the court.”

“If he wants to, why not let him?” Predictably, that was Theo.

James sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “Because it can lead to unsustainable evidence. Really Theo, have you ever sat in on a real court hearing before?”

“Nope!”

Qrow was beginning to think the only way he was winning Vacuo’s majority was by entertaining them enough.

From the opposite side of the bench, Oz sipped from his mug (when had that appeared?) as he peered down at Taiyang. “Do you believe what you have to say is important to this case?”

“I do, your honor.” Tai sounded so certain. What in Brothers’ names was he up to?

“Then let’s hear it.”

He nodded, facing the prosecutor once more. “The reason Qrow has such an interest in omegas is because he used to be one.”

Oh boy. Qrow sunk a bit in his seat, practically feeling the cameras turning towards him.

For the second time in ten minutes, the court went into a frenzy – bad enough that Leo had to call for order to quiet everyone down.

Watts was staring at Tai like one would a countryside bumpkin. “As fantastical as that claim is Mr. Xiao Long, biology does not work that way. Qrow was born an alpha, therefore he is an alpha.”

“Yes, he is, but he wasn’t raised like one. Qrow’s parents were convinced he would be an omega, so they groomed him to be one. He went to omega-based primordial classes. He could sew by the time he was nine and he was cooking with his mom a few months before she passed away. And that doesn’t even begin to cover all the socialization differences.” Tai uncrossed his legs, leaning forward. “Just because Qrow presented otherwise doesn’t take away from the fact that for thirteen years, he was an omega. So of course he feels a connection with the dynamic he was once a part of.”

“That’s a bold claim to make, but I’m afraid you don’t have the psychological expertise to back it.”

“Perhaps, but I do have personal experience.”

“As a teacher, you mean?”

“No.” Qrow didn’t have to see it to know Tai’s smile was smug. “As someone who lived his first fourteen years as an alpha.”

That got the court going again, though more contained this time around.

Watts seemed to be at the end of his rope with this clown show, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let’s move on, shall we?”

It was a small, but significant, victory.

“So, you’ve never sat in on any of Mr. Branwen’s tattooing sessions with another client?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Why not?”

“I had no reason too. Not only would it be invasive for the omega having the work done, I’d seen and experienced first-hand how careful Qrow was with his work.”

“How can you be certain he wasn’t just treating you, his closest companion, as an exception?”

“I suppose he did in some ways. Like not minding our eight-to-ten-hour sessions for weeks on end. But as far as his work ethic goes, when I found him, he was thin as a stick because he was sacrificing his grocery budget just to make sure he had all the needles and antiseptics he needed in stock.”

The questioning had been going on for nearly forty-five minutes.

At first, he assumed Watts was just continually trying to dig through his history via Tai, hoping to find something incriminating to prove Qrow was, in fact, a spawn born from the deepest pits of darkness. While that was certainly somewhat true – such as spinning his introverted habits into something more sinister (“Did Mr. Branwen ever have other instances in which he had issue working with others?”) – it didn’t seem the lawyer’s primary goal. The realization of what was creeped up on him as he noticed Glynda hide a yawn behind her hand and Lil’ Miss check her watch.

“He’s stalling.” He hissed.

“Yes.” Pietro was equally displeased. “It’s one of his favorite tactics. He knows the more time he takes, the less we have. I figured he might do this right at the end.”

“Can’t you do anything?”

He rubbed a hand under his chin thoughtfully. “In a normal court, no… but perhaps in this one…”

“We’ll give it a shot.” Rhodes agreed, getting to his feet. “Objection! Arthur, you’ve been at this for quite some time. Is this line of questioning going anywhere?”

The other lawyer waved to Tai, “I merely wish to delve into as much of the defendant’s history as possible, seeing as Mr. Xiao Long here is our only character witness.”

“But wasn’t it also you who said the UFK’s time was valuable?”

“Are you accusing me of wasting time Dium? That’s not a true objection.”

From further above, James asserted, “As it is, I’m thinking to sustain it regardless. I’ve heard about as much of Mr. Branwen’s teenage escapades as I care to hear.”

As the conversation went on above them, Qrow couldn’t help but notice the way Tai fell back some in his seat, a line of exhaustion weighing his shoulders. It seemed Watts’ tactic hadn’t just affected the court. The omega had been very careful the entire time, never giving too much with any answer and, if he could, trying to keep things in a positive light.

He imagined since his best friend was trying to hold up one of the most cynical bastards he’d ever known, his arms had to be getting tired.

“Stop that. You’re not a joke, you know?”

The echoing words chiding him left his lips quirking upwards.

Heh. Right. When was he going to learn to stop underestimating the other man? Tai wasn’t here simply to get him out of trouble; he was here because he believed in Qrow. Not just what he represented, or the work he did, but him at his core. If anything, Qrow was the one being the real fool, not even humoring the idea that very little of what Tai had said so far even stretched the truth.

That maybe, just maybe, Tai truly did regard him that highly.

Gods, He thought fondly, What did I ever do to deserve you?

As if he could feel Qrow’s stare, Tai glanced back. Though it was hard to tell from this distance, he seemed almost nervous.

Despite knowing he probably wouldn’t be able to make it out, Qrow mouthed as precisely as he could, ‘You’re doing great!’

Something must had translated, because Tai grinned.

“-Four more questions, understood?” Leo was saying, tuning them back into the trial.

“Understood your honor.” Watts replied. There was something almost deadly in his eyes as he faced Tai once more, like he was staring down a dueling opponent and he was best trying to figure how to win the draw. “Mr. Xiao Long, we’ve been speaking of the defendant’s purchase history for some time now, but there’s one in particular I would like you to look at with me.” Much like he had with Qrow, the lawyer picked up some documents from the evidence table, bringing them over. “As the court is already well aware, alphas and omegas are both required to be registered with the pharmacy, so that suppressant usage can be documented and properly distributed.” He stopped in front of Tai. “This is from six years ago, during the same months you happened to have testified you were within contact with him in Argus.”

Qrow sat up, ramrod straight as a stone dropped into his gut. Fuck.

“Will you read for the court the purchase made on July 27th and then the one made on August 12th, including the amounts and prescription length?”

Tai seemed confused, even as he complied, “Moschidor, 200mg, thirty-day use. $28.50. Odocoilus, 300mg, fifteen-day use. $53.66.”

“So, let me clarify what occurred here.” Watts said, gesturing with the papers to the court, “The defendant was on Moshidor, one of the cheaper suppressants on the market, but known for its general effectiveness for every day use. However, before the defendant’s prescription was even close to being finished, he was purchasing Odocoilus, a much more expensive and aggressive suppressant. We’ve also already covered that the defendant’s budget constraints hardly allowed for such lavish spending. Which only leads me to believe that he was in a position in which he had to make this purchase.” He spun back to Tai and took the shot, “So the question is Mr. Xiao Long, do you happen to know if some sort of incident occurred to spark this change?”

At a loss for words, the omega just spluttered. “I, well, uh…”

“Please answer the question Mr. Xiao Long.” He pressured.

Tai shifted uncomfortably, ducking his head. “He… had a spontaneous rut.”

Qrow’s nails dug into the grain of the table, hearing the too-loud whispers of the reporters start up.

“Well now isn’t that fascinating.” Watts exclaimed, looking much like a man who had just discovered a gold mine. “Spontaneous ruts are most often caused by the presence of a potential mate. It wouldn’t be an unforeseen happenstance, being around as many omegas as he was. But then, that doesn’t line up with Mr. Branwen’s declaration of holding a candle for someone well before his tattooing days, now does it?”

In the brief hush, Qrow worked out the options. Tai could lie, of course. Could say he just missed a few doses – but then Watts would string that along to make him seem irresponsible and intentionally hazardous. Or, maybe he could convince everyone the suppressants just stopped working because his body became too accumulated to his current prescription. It would work, if only it couldn’t be easily countered by the fact that effectiveness goes down overtime, and other rut-like symptoms would have popped up months prior to the full cycle.

It was with a sinking feeling he realized there was only one ‘good’ answer to that question.

A flush was working its way up Tai’s neck, pinkening his ears, as he no doubt came to the same conclusion. “It does, actually. Because…” His whole back rolled with the breath he took before raising his head, “I’m that person.”

Yet again, an explosion of noise overtook the court.

Qrow shut his eyes, as if he could shut it all out. The little victory they had gotten earlier on in the testimony felt like a consolation prize to the defeat they were facing now. Even with only two questions left, Watts had a dozen little ways he could twist that information and the precious seconds it took the leaders to call for order only gave him more time to figure out exactly how to best ruin the most beautiful thing in Qrow’s life.

Ruin it he clearly wanted too, what with the way Watts steepled his fingers together and smiled menacingly as he waited patiently for order to be restored before speaking, “Mr. Xiao Long, I’m afraid I feel like I’m missing a few pieces here. Your statement implies you triggered Mr. Branwen’s rut. However, spontaneous ruts don’t come about from a mere crush. Otherwise, we’d have every teenager in the world out of school every other week. Mr. Branwen had to be in a situation in which he felt you could become his mate for a rut to happen in this manner. So, what occurred between you two to create this chain reaction?”

“We… spent the night together. Platonically!” Tai stressed quickly. “It was my birthday and we’d had a few glasses of wine together. He invited me to stay over for the night. Nothing else happened.” A pause, then Tai added in rashly, “We’d done it a million times before so I didn’t think anything of it. I hadn’t known Qrow had had any feelings for me at the time, otherwise I wouldn’t have stayed.”

Qrow grimaced and hunkered down, already knowing what was about to be said.

Sure enough, Watts grabbed the lead in like he’d just fished his best catch of the day, “I find that very curious of you to say. Because Qrow’s already attested to the fact you never returned his feelings – but he failed to say when you rejected him. Now from this account, it seems to me he manipulated you into a hazardous situation, using your ignorance to his potential gain.”

Fury burnt in his gut, angry tears brimming. That wasn’t what happened! He’d never… could never have lived with himself, if he’d hurt Tai like that. How was it right that someone could mock his love this way? Make it seem like a sham.

Yet just as it felt like all he could do was sit here helplessly as the one thing he’d held most dear fell apart for all to witness, Tai stood up for him, chair scraping back, voice near explosive all on its own, “No! That’s not the truth!”

Watts merely arched a brow at the emotional display, and rather than calling him out for the outburst only egged him on further with his final question, “Then what is the truth, Mr. Xiao Long?”

“The truth is it was my fault!”

Oh Tai… Qrow shook his head, willing him not to take the fall for him but unable to stop him as he bravely carried on.

He expected some outlandish lie to protect him.

Some sort of tall tale that he’d conjured up to push the blame off of himself so that Tai looked like the guilty party in all this.

What he didn’t expect – the last thing he’d ever expect in the entire world – was what Tai said next.

“Qrow’s rut didn’t trigger because of his feelings, they triggered because of mine!”

WHAT?!

….W…What?

Even as the press stirred up behind him and the council bore down from above, Tai didn’t halt, tone trembling on the words, “I had started falling for him when we met up again. But I was too much of a coward to tell him, because the last time I had, my entire life was upended!” He pointed frenziedly towards James’ section. “I got shipped off to Atlas and my daughters ripped away from me! Years I’ll never get back, because I had dared fall in love a second time. I couldn’t stand the thought of it happening again, so I… I never told Qrow.” His arm fell and, with it, his ferocity.

Qrow didn’t need to see him to know he was crying.

“Not that it would have mattered. Qrow was already staying away as much as possible to keep me and my girls out of this. Telling him, when we couldn’t be together, would have been cruel.” Tai hung his head, ending softly, “I loved him too much to break his heart that way.”

The irony was, he certainly didn’t feel that was even possible, with how full his heart suddenly was. He wanted to cry. He wanted climb the tallest mountain in the world and shout his happiness until it echoed into the canyons. But more than anything, he wanted to jump up and take Tai into his arms and never, ever let him go.

Watts cleared his throat, reminding him where he was and that his life was on the cusp of being nothing but three stone walls and a door with bars. “I suppose… I have no further questions.” He walked back to his table, only stopping long enough to gripe, “And take your seat, Mr. Xiao Long.”

As Tai sat back down, Ozpin lent forward, surprisingly kind as he offered, “Would the witness like a moment, before we continue?”

“No.” He snuffled, running a hand over his eyes. “I’m okay. I apologize for the display.”

The leader only nodded, “Very well. The defense may proceed.”

Pietro gave Qrow a firm pat on the back, “Hang in there, my boy.” Before making his way to the evidence table. He picked up a paperback book and, strangely, a measuring tape, before rolling himself over to Tai. “I promise to be brief, Mr. Xiao Long. Now, you said it took about six months for my client to finish rebranding your mark, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And during those six months, you met every Sunday for up to ten hours a day, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And where is your brand?”

“It’s on my back.” Tai made a vague motion towards the area. “Across my shoulder blades.”

“I see. So, it’s not in plain view. Would you please remove your shirt to show the court?”

That had Watts snapping, “Objection! We’ve seen Qrow’s work on the other witnesses. We don’t need to disgrace Mr. Xiao Long in such a manner.”

“I do promise that I am going somewhere with this.” Pietro told the court. “Mr. Xiao Long’s time with Mr. Branwen was significantly longer than any other witness or potential witness we encountered, but I believe seeing it will only truly express why.”

The four leaders glanced at one another, before James tipped his head, “We’ll allow it. Mr. Xiao Long, if you would.”

Tai got to back to his feet, turning around. His fingers fumbled a bit over the buttons of his shirt as his eyes met Qrow’s, a confliction of feelings playing across his face. Qrow couldn’t help but feel a storm well within him. There was so much he wanted to say and to make up for. But all they could have right now were their gazes on one another, the longing between them almost tangible.

Tai shrugged out of his shirt, the fabric falling to the floor.

A ring of gasps could be heard from some of the councilmembers.

Qrow didn’t need to see it to know why, remembering every line he’d etched like it had been just yesterday.

He could almost feel his hand moving once more, his outline detailing the S into an 8 – Tai’s birthdate. Within the top and bottom circles, the colors of dawn and dusk bloomed anew along the beaches of Patch. Both the upper and lower half were drawn out symmetrically so they mirrored one another. Both had the same sands, the same waves, the same distant isles of Vale, and even the same birds flying in the sky. The only difference was the time of day, so that the sun rose and fell in infinity.

Beside it was the former L that was now shaped like an arch window. Spilling out of the shadows of a deep cave was a glorious four-legged dragon, with scales of gold and wings like a bird’s folded upon its back. It was peering down at where the end of its tail was curled up like a small spiral, where a little black bird was perched, beak open in song.

Then was the U, no longer detectable as it had blossomed into a simple silver rose, a loving reminder of a pendant Summer herself once wore. The edges of the rose were given a red tinge to match the woman’s graduating hair. A few of the petals were giving way, delicately falling on either side. Cursive script had been added both above and below the rose, the exact words of a poem the woman had once adored, versing out: ‘Thus kindly… I scatter’.

Finally came the T, now transformed into a maple tree not unlike the ones spread around the yard of Tai’s house. This one was on the cusp of autumn, its bright green leaves having a blush of reds, oranges and yellows. At the time it was a wish, the colors a representation of the family Tai hoped to raise at his former summer home. Below the tree, a sea of white daisies and sunflowers had sprouted up, stems bent like they were dancing. A new beginning in the sunlight.

Each one was created with a steady hand and careful consideration for the man who bore them. So that when Tai walked out the door that final time, it was no longer with shame, but with pride that he could wear something on his back that was as beautiful as he was.

Pietro allowed them to stare for several long seconds, before he requested, “Rhodes, if you could assist me for just a moment.” The other lawyer was quick join him, taking the tape measure as it was handed over. “If you would, could you measure out the length of the first tattoo for me?” The ruler made a metallic hush as it was pulled out and held against the man’s back. “Now Mr. Xiao Long, could you read for us the reading on the tape?”

Tai glanced down as Rhodes held it out towards him. “Eight and a half inches.”

“And what was the first letter of the word on your back?”

“It was an S.”

“Is the S still discernable?”

“Yes. It’s one half of the figure eight.”

Pietro nodded, glancing at his associate. “Just to make sure it is fully understood, Rhodes, can you trace the letter so that the court can clearly see what Mr. Xiao Long means?”

“Of course.” Rhodes complied, stepping to the side so it was in clear view as his finger followed the line.

“Thank you. You may return to your seat Rhodes. As can you, Mr. Xiao Long.”

Tai met Qrow’s eyes one more time, and this time gave him a tiny smile, before he turned to settle back into the chair. He fetched his shirt up off the floor.

While Tai was making himself decent once more, Pietro drew the attention his way as he held up the book to the court. “I have here in my hand a guidebook from the New Horizons Reformatory, the very same one Mr. Xiao Long attended. In chapter three of this book, are the guidelines for omega branding.” He flipped over to the chapter he had to be talking about, holding it out to Tai. “Mr. Xiao Long, would you please read aloud the parameters for acceptable size of the brand, as listed under section 3?”

“A brand is not to exceed the length of two inches and no larger than the length of the chosen body part to prevent words from circling around the limb.” Tai recited obediently.

“Mhm. And can you also read aloud section 5?”

“The chosen word cannot in any way be considered: derogatory, defamatory or otherwise indecent to be seen by the public eye.”

Pietro lowered the book. “Mr. Xiao Long, the word that was on your back is entirely indiscernible, but am I correct to assume it was a four-letter word that started with an S?”

“Yes.”

“Would you please tell the court what that word once was?”

Tai took a breath and the room seemed to hold it with him.

Then, he released it and the terrible truth along with it, “It used to say ‘Slut’.”

Not a word was uttered. Even the reporters in the back had nothing to say, because it spoke for itself.

Qrow chanced a glance upwards. Few could look at Taiyang, and those who were did not hide their humanity. Of course, it was the four leaders that seemed the most prominent. Theo’s frown was heavily pronounced, his gaze burning holes into the tabletop in front of him. James was running a hand over his eyes, a sagging to his once proud shoulders. Leo was shaking his head, murmuring quietly to himself. And Oz, as usual, was near completely unreadable, hiding his expression behind his hands again.

Hope beat like a frail thing in his chest and he tried not to hold it too hard.

The silence was eventually broken by Pietro snapping the book closed with an air of finality. “Thank you, Mr. Xiao Long. I have no further questions. You may step down.”

“Well,” Leo spoke up, as the two men began to move. “As there are no further witnesses, we’ll allow for the final statements. After that, the jury will convene for a judgment and-”

The rest of it faded to background noise, Qrow’s fixation completely on Tai as he passed between the tables.

The omega paused, just long enough to mouth a single word to him before he continued on:

‘Soon.’

It felt like a promise.

Thirty minutes was all it took to decide his fate.

He had thought the deliberation period would last longer. That everything they’d done here today would shake up at least some people’s conventions. Yet, for the decision to be made so quickly meant there’d been little to no discourse. No split votes. No uncertainties. Nothing that held up their ruling.

Almost as if their verdict had been made well before he even first walked into the room.

It didn’t seem to add up. After all the heavy expressions, outbursts, and shocked silences, Qrow had thought they had had an impact.

Had it all just been for the cameras?

Had nothing mattered?

Traversing the path back to the conference room for the last time, Qrow felt like he was walking back to the gallows.

“Don’t look so glum. It’s not over yet.” Pietro urged as he wheeled along beside him.

He scoffed. “Tch. Might as well be. Face it wheels, they already knew what they wanted to do with me before we ever started this dog and pony show.”

“Perhaps…” Was all he said and thankfully no more.

On his other side, Rhodes offered him a firm pat to the back, though it failed to do much when his own expression was crooked with nerves.

Too soon, Qrow was settled back into his chair between his lawyers. Not much had changed about the room, except the witness chair was gone and the reporters had been given permission to encroach further in the room – most of them stood only ten feet away from his table. Across the way, Watts was completely at ease, his hands clasped before his face to hide a smirk. No doubt because he too knew this was already over.

Ozpin spoke first, “We’ve called you back in here because our councils have reached our verdicts. Each head of council will give their individual verdicts based on majority vote before giving our unanimous ruling. Mr. Branwen, we ask you to come to the center of the room as we read our verdict.”

The heat of an invisible spotlight followed him every step of the way as he did as requested, until he stood in the exact spot he’d made his initial testimony. But the anxiety he’d felt then was nothing compared to now – heart pounding, ears rushing, hands curled up into fists to hide their shakes. It took all of his strength to look up and face the court. Every face he looked at was carefully blank, giving away nothing.

Barred, like he soon would be.

“James,” Oz gestured towards him, “Since the defendant was apprehended on your kingdom’s grounds, I feel it only appropriate to allow you to go first.”

“Thank you Oz.”

As the general got to his feet, Qrow ducked his head to hide his grimace. It was better this way. Hearing the one kingdom that assuredly condemned him meant he couldn’t possibly get his hopes up by any other rulings.

James began, voice commanding all attention to him, “In the case of Qrow Branwen v. the Four Kingdoms-”

He screwed his eyes shut. On the cusp of the end of his life, he swore it flashed before him. Tiny, trivial, nearly uncatchable bits of the people he’d left behind or let down.

His father’s stern hand.

The softness of his mother’s hugs.

His twin’s pretentious stance.

His nieces’ excitement every time he came home.

The buzzing of his pen as he drew a thousand different works of art upon a thousand different people.

“-We, the council of Atlas, ruled 3-to-5 and find the accused…”

But of everything that slipped in and out like sand through an hourglass, the one that held tightest without letting go was Tai. Until there was nothing left in his memories but the bright smile he’d first fallen in love with eighteen years ago.

A smile he’d taken for granted twelve years ago.

Had fought to bring back six years ago.

Now, today, he’d be taking it away, as the world who cared nothing for an omega’s happiness found a way to break his heart for a third and final time.

I’m sorry, Tai. Qrow thought helplessly just as the verdict was declared.

“-Innocent of disorderly conduct against omegakind.”

Qrow wasn’t sure if the boom he heard was Watts’ hands meeting the table from shock or his own head exploding.

Had… he truly heard that right?

As he dared peek in James’ direction, he swore he got the hint of a smile on the man’s face as he took his seat once more. A glance back, and he could see Pietro and Rhodes’ optimistic expressions. Watched the reporters twitter about animatedly, repeating the ruling into their cameras.

“Can you believe-”

“The ruling is in-”

“-and in this shocking turn of events-”

“-Atlas’ decision is innocent!”

The shock hadn’t even had a chance to start wearing off, before Qrow’s focus was forward once more as Leo was encouraged to go next.

His proclamation was much shorter: “The Mistral council finds Qrow Branwen innocent in a 6-to-9 ruling.”

Then went Theo, who had the audacity to wink at him before speaking, “The Vacuo council ruled 7-to-11 that Mr. Branwen is innocent.”

Breath coming short and every bit of him tingling, Qrow could barely contain his anticipation as Ozpin stood to give the final verdict:

“In a unanimous 8-to-8 ruling, we the Vale council also declare the accused innocent. As the UFK has reached a shared ruling, Qrow Branwen will be acquitted of all charges against him.” Before the commotion could really get going, the leader held up a hand, speaking over it, “Furthermore, this case has brought to our attention that omega branding has become an outdated and, quite frankly, inhumane practice. Thus, we have decided that any form of branding will be prohibited in all institutions across the four kingdoms from this day forward.”

The reaction to those words was a thunderous roar that rattled the windows and shook the rafters. It took Qrow a moment to place the source, until it hit him that it was coming from outside. It was the massive crowd that had gathered on the lawn, all cheering so loudly that it was bouncing off the walls, amplifying the noise until it resonated more like a pride of lions triumphantly sounding off, letting their voices be heard.

Silenced no longer.

In the wake of it, Ozpin was almost inaudible as he finished, “This court is now adjourned. Qrow, you’re free to go.”

It took him a moment to get his legs to cooperate, relief turning his limbs to jelly as he swayed back over to the table. Both lawyers were quick to greet him.

Rhodes’ excitement was palpable in the way the pat he delivered to his back was enough to whoosh all the air from his lungs. “Come on Qrow, smile! You’re not walking out of here in handcuffs.”

“I know, I just… did that really just happen?” He questioned, half-expecting to wake up from the past five minutes and discover it was all just a dream.

“That it did. Hold it with pride that this was a well-earned victory.” Pietro congratulated, holding out a hand. “It’s been a pleasure working with you, my boy.”

For some reason, that was what finally got the tears to gather, though Qrow stubbornly tried not to let them fall as he shook the other’s hand. “Thank you. Both of you. I wouldn’t have had a chance without you.”

“Believe me when I say the thanks is all from us. Working on a case like this is something lawyers only dream of.” Rhodes replied. “I haven’t seen this old man so invigorated in years!”

“Now Rhodes, don’t make it seem so self-serving. Anybody with eyes could see Qrow was no criminal. In the end, it’s not the prestige that I’ll be holding onto, but the joy in seeing this young man walk free.” The elder admonished.

The battle was lost as the first tear slipped down his face, though Qrow was quick to wipe it away. “I-”

“Mr. Branwen! Can I get a statement?”

He started at the shout, seeing one of the reporters beelining towards him – though her call had drawn the attention and ravenousness of the others. Sharks, all of them.

Pietro mumbled quietly, “Rhodes, I believe Qrow needs to make a hasty exit.”

“Got it.” Before he could blink, the lawyer was pushing him between the cameras and the microphones, saying diplomatically as they went on by, “While I’m certain Mr. Branwen would love to answer all your questions, he has a rather important matter to attend too.” He would have sworn it was just a ruse meant to dissuade the press. But then they reached the doors, and Rhodes was leaning over, whispering in his ear, “Take a left, then go down the second hallway. You’ll find an elevator there. Tai’s on the second floor, room 218.”

The realization hit like a strike of lightning.

Right, no more cells. No more handcuffs. No more guards.

If he stepped out of this room, no one would stop him.

He was truly and wholly free to go.

Which meant…

“Go get him.”

Qrow hardly needed the push, feet pounding loudly on marble as he sprinted down the hallway, running faster than he ever had in his entire life. His shadow stretched alongside the wall beside him, cast by the falling sun outside that came through the floor to ceiling windows. A glance outside revealed the masses still celebrating. They were a sea of faces, indistinguishable in the dimming light, but their rapture was universal. Seen in the hugs being shared. Shoulders being cried on. In the group that had started to dance for no other reason than to share in each other’s joy.

Tomorrow, they’d remember the other battles still left to be fought, the inequalities still meant to be corrected – but today was for rejoicing, for reveling in one of the most monumental gains for omegakind in over fifty years.

Through the tinted windows, Qrow smiled to them before disappearing around the second corner without a single one of them ever knowing he was there.

Unseen as he always was meant to be.

The elevator was taking too long.

“Come on, come on.” Qrow pressed the button another half dozen times, tapping his foot impatiently. As he waited, he couldn’t help but wonder what Tai was doing right now. Was he still watching the newsreel on his scroll? Or was he standing by the window, watching the ongoing merry-making of his fellow omegas? Or maybe he was pacing the room, just as anxious to see him as Qrow himself was.

Gods above, he didn’t even know what he was going to say to him. All he knew was he needed to be with him, right now.

He stared at the light above the door like he could will it to light up.

Another few seconds passed and it remained offensively dark.

“Tch!” He scowled at it, rushing back into hallway, sprinting for the door at the end that had a sign marked “Fire Escape” on it. He sent a silent prayer that it wouldn’t be alarmed as he reached for the knob.

Only for it to swing open of its’ own accord.

Qrow’s heart jumped as he suddenly found himself staring back at Tai, disheveled and winded, on the other side. Like he’d just run the entire way here.

The omega took about a half-step out before his eyes blew wide as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Qrow! How did you – I mean, what are you doing?”

“Coming to find you.” Qrow rasped, swallowing a bit. “How ‘bout you?”

Tai’s scent spiked, nerves making it sharper, more prominent. “I, uh, same. Was trying to use the elevator but-”

“It was taking too long?” He guessed, a smile pulling at the edges of his lips.

“Yeah.” Tai said, beginning to grin along with him.

Then they were laughing, as it hit them that in their haste to see one another, they had done the exact same thing. Qrow’s amusement only grew, when he surmised that the reason the elevator was probably taking so long was because it was on Tai’s floor, waiting for the blond who already was long gone.

He was just starting to get ahold of himself, taking in a breath to speak, when a ding sounded off and voices and footsteps filled the hall. He glanced back, unease filling him as he recognized Robyn’s voice. Though he imagined she was probably going to join the festivities out front, if she spotted him, she’d surely want to catch a word. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on the issue, because Tai abruptly grabbed onto his wrist, yanking him into the stairwell. The door whispered shut behind them.

“Sorry, I just…” Tai trailed off, letting go.

Which was just unacceptable. Qrow reached out, capturing his hand in his and squeezing tightly. “I know. Me too.” The omega looked between their hands back to him. “So… all this time?”

“I, yeah.” He sucked in a sharp breath, a swell of emotions caught in his tone, “I wanted to tell you so long ago. But, I just – Gods I don’t even know where to start.”

He hushed him soothingly, brushing away the tears threatening to fall. “Hey, none of that now. Remember what you told me before? Just because they’re your feelings for me doesn’t mean I own them.” That same hand quested further, winding around the back of his head to card through blond locks. “In fact, forget all that. I don’t need you to explain and by Gods do I not want you to apologize, for anything.” He lent forward, until their foreheads brushed and all they could see was each other. “I just want to know: This is really what you want? You want to be with me?”

Those beautiful blue eyes that Qrow’d seen be as turbulent as a stormy sea and as calm as an undisturbed lake stared back at him in a way he’d never quite seen before. They had softened to something strikingly warm and crystal clear, much like the beaches of Patch. Like home.

“Yes.” Tai resolutely replied, gentle and sweet. “Yes, I really do.”

Overwhelmed, Qrow could only bring him that much closer, promising against his lips reverently, “Okay. Then I’m yours,” before the distance between them closed.

Somewhere, the world was still turning around them. But for Qrow, his own had been off its axis for months now.

It was only in Tai’s lips against his that he felt it finally right itself once more.

It was still blissfully early in the workday when Qrow led his final customer back to the front of his shop, going through the care instructions like a mantra. “-And don’t forget, no direct sunlight until it’s fully healed. Got all that?”

“Yep!” Gretchen assured, her high voice giving an almost musical lyre to her words. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to get rid of all my stupid knee-high socks.”

Distracted by a random flutter of anxiety, his response came late, “Ah, don’t mention it.”

They walked into the lobby area – or, as he often jokingly referred to it, his art museum. The walls were covered in nothing but framed mementos of his work. Some were just drawn onto sketchbook paper, others were actual photos of past clients showing off their marks. The room was fairly sparse besides a small desk that had his itinerary for the year and a desk phone. A few chairs were also scattered about the room for friends or family of the client.

In one of them sat Gretchen’s brother, Hazel. Upon seeing them, the absolute mountain of an alpha got to his feet, trudging on over. “All done?”

“Uh-huh.” The woman launched herself at him and despite her petite size, Qrow could tell her hugs were rather large. “Thank you for paying for this.”

“I’m just glad it made you happy.” He said with complete sincerity, his own embrace lifting her off the ground.

Qrow had to wonder if it was like getting a hug from a grizzly bear. Still, the sight pulled a smile out of him. It was always reassuring, seeing his clients getting the support they deserved. “Call if anything doesn’t seem right, okay?”

“I will.” With a wave goodbye from Gretchen and a silent nod of gratitude from Hazel, the pair left his shop together, plans to visit the ice cream shop down the block trailing after them.

He locked the door behind them, a sense of anticipation rolling through him. It was rare he got to close up shop before sundown on a Friday and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing weekend at home. He worked out the stiffness in his neck and wrist as he went about the motions of preparing for the following week. The pen was taken apart and dropped into the ultrasonic cleaner. While the cycle ran, he settled back out front to make a few calls, confirming Monday’s appointments. Next, he checked the inks, refilling the black and blue that had begun to run low. By the time he was done with that, the cleaner was done and he reassembled the pen, storing it away in its’ kit.

After that, there was nothing left to do but pull out his scroll and text Tai.

Early night at the shop. Should be home by six.

He felt the response in another wave of anxiety well before he heard the jingle from his device. Just getting dinner started. See you soon.

Qrow hesitated, tempted not for the first time today to just ask what was up with his mate, but like every other time, he pushed the selfish desire down.

After they’d bonded, he and Tai had established early on that neither of them wanted the other to drop everything to be at each other’s beck and call whenever they felt a hint of a negative emotion. It was too stifling and, when it came right down to it, too insulting. He didn’t need Tai in his ear while dealing with an ornery customer any more than Tai needed him at his side every time one of his coworkers got on his nerves. They both wanted to feel trusted, not coddled.

So, curiosity wasn’t a great reason to break that trust.

Whatever was making Tai feel so jittery, he knew he’d tell him when he was ready. Until then…

Could pick something up on the way home, if you’d rather. He offered.

The reply was just a picture of their kitchen counter, spread with the familiar ingredients for his favorite curry dish, followed by a cheeky, You sure?

He folded quicker than a bad poker hand. Forget I said anything.

Tai just sent back a bunch of laughing faces.

Qrow took it as a good sign.

Harbinger’s Tattoo Parlor was located in a small shopping center in central Patch, easy to find even for the farthest of travelers. It was also a convenient fifteen-minute drive from the forest-entwined cabin Qrow called home. The trees acted like a natural privacy fence, with only a winding dirt road the only way in. Driving in, the home seemed to glisten in the late afternoon light, a recent coat of timber stain having given the logs a dazzling sheen, making the decades-old structure appear newer than it was. Little planters of sunflowers and daisies surrounded the front and eastern sides of the home, adding a serene splash of color to the dwelling. He gave the blooms an appraising eye as he continued down the path to the backyard, parking by the shed.

No sooner after he’d cut the engine and started making his way towards the house, did the door burst open and his nieces came flocking out.

“Hi uncle!” Yang said, snatching the keys as she went. “Bye uncle!”

He blinked down at his empty hand. “Hey, wait!”

“Love you!” Ruby dropped a kiss to his cheek, bouncing on by with a few colorful giftbags swinging on her arms and a bundle of fur clutched between her hands.

“You’re taking Zwei too?!”

Already halfway in the driver’s seat, the younger alpha shouted back, a clear tease in her tone, “Thought you didn’t like the ‘mangy mutt’?”

“I don’t – was just hoping you were leaving him there!” He retaliated, waving a hand behind him as he headed inside. “Have fun. And don’t crash my car.”

The roar of the vehicle coming to life drowned out whatever response they may have given him. He counted his blessings the Valkyrie residence was only a few houses away as he watched them peel away before stepping into the kitchen. The sound that greeted him was the swishing of a wooden spoon mixing food into a skillet, the heat up high to bring it to a shimmer.

“Welcome home!” Tai greeted with an unusual amount of enthusiasm.

Unsure if it was wise to address it or not, Qrow erred on the side of caution as he strode over with nothing more than a casual, “Hey sunshine.”

He waited until the omega had set the cover down on the pan, before gathering him up in his arms and pulling him back against his chest. When that was met with no resistance, he nuzzled against the side of his neck. After being surrounded by a variety of different scents, it was nice to be enveloped by only his mate’s earthy aroma.

“Mm, how was your day?” Tai asked as turned in his grasp to return the gesture.

Qrow tilted his head back to allow him. “Good. Finished off Gretchen’s mark today.”

“The one who wanted the gingerbread house?”

“Yeah.” He shivered a bit as lips brushed against his bond mark, the scarring having left the area extra sensitive. “How was yours?”

Another spike both in his gut and in Tai’s scent. But his mate only brushed it off with a chuckle. “Oh you know my students, they always like to kid around.”

He groaned, nipping his ear in retribution. “No.”

That got him a more honest laugh. Tai wiggled free, turning away to start cleaning up the dishes and spices he’d left out. “It was math and movie day, so nothing interesting to report.”

With his back turned, he couldn’t see the way Qrow frowned. He’d hoped once they were in the same room together, Tai would open up. Now, he had no idea what was going on. Unless…

He eyed the skillet, his favorite dish still bubbling away underneath the top. It wasn’t unusual for him to make it, but after a long, tiring week at work, slaving over a stove was the last thing either of them wanted to do. Usually, they had pizza or leftovers or something quick and easy. Tai deciding to do something special reeked of him trying to butter him up for something.

Then, there was the oddity of the girls’ bringing Zwei along for a birthday party. Fun as the puppy was, he was also a lot of work and Qrow really couldn’t see a group of teenagers willingly wanting to spend an entire weekend watching him. Especially when he couldn’t get his own to clean their rooms.

Which meant, either they’d been bribed or Tai had been.

“Really, nothing at all?” Despite his mounting suspicion, he kept his tone casual, crossing over to the fridge to fetch himself a drink.

Another clench in his gut. Another lie on Tai’s tongue. “Yeah. It was just another normal day.”

Normal his ass. Qrow pulled out a beer, cracking it open and kicking the fridge door shut all in one motion. He swore to the Gods, if all this was over some new mutt hiding out in their shed, he was going to lose it.

Tai passed him on the way to the sink, pausing just long enough to drop a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

…But, he supposed he could play along.

“Want dessert?”

The call from the kitchen roused him and Qrow’s eyes slipped back open.

He had long ago kicked off his shoes and his ankles were crossed over the coffee table while he lounged back on the couch. The T.V. was playing the latest episode of All Our Life but he’d long ago tuned out whatever comedy the campy sitcom was trying to pull. It had been going downhill ever since Season 3 anyways. Tai must have felt the same, if he’d decided to clear the dishes instead of waiting for the credit roll.

“What are we having?” He yelled back, hitting the power button on the remote with his toe. Maybe they could put on a movie instead.

“Tried and true!”

He snorted. “Sure.”

There was a clack as the pantry opened and closed. The nerves had spiked again, bad enough Qrow had to take a few deep breathes. He sat up straight, bracing himself for the ‘news’. He’d already planned out his reaction. He couldn’t wait to yank Tai’s chain over adopting yet another mangy menace for them to care for – even if he was going to give in in the end.

“Oh, that reminds me, I thought of a great joke.” Tai said as he came back into the room.

Oh Gods, this was how he was going to tell him? Forget it. The furball was going back to pound. “Great is relative with you.”

“Oh hush up and listen! So, what did the bumblebee say to the sugar ant on his birthday?”

His brow furrowed, confused. That didn’t really lead to ‘puppy’ or ‘kitty’. “I don’t know, what?”

“He said,” Tai replied as he tossed him the packaged cupcake, winking as he did, “Boy, this sure is a sweet gift!”

“Ha. Ha. I’m just dying over here.” He deadpanned, ripping open the plastic.

Qrow waited for the rest of the punchline to come, but his mate only dropped down next to him, saying nothing even as his anxiety skyrocketed. Alright. Still not ready then.

He sighed softly, tugging out the cupcake, removing the cardboard bottom.

And froze.

“Speaking of gifts…”

Tai’s voice seemed to come from far away, barely tugging away Qrow’s focus as it centered on the little square in his hand.

Flecks of chocolate had clung to it, but it wasn’t enough to block out the words written on it in happy, yellow ink:

We’re pregnant.

“We’re… You’re…” He stilted out, mind whirling as he looked at his mate, “We’re gonna have…?”

Tai was biting his lip, but it didn’t quite tame the growing smile as he nodded.

Love and affection surged so strongly in Qrow’s heart, Tai’s eyes started to water. The omega was laughing by the time Qrow had dropped the things in his hands to instead pull him into his arms, hugging him as tight as he could. He rained kisses and adoration along the other’s face. “I love you. I love you so much. My Gods. We’re really having a pup?”

“Uh-huh.” Tai swiped away some tears budding in Qrow’s eyes now, even as more fell from his own, the emotions growing between their bond intense and overwhelming. “Found out this morning. I’ve been waiting all day to tell you.”

“I knew you were freaking out about something. But I thought you were gonna tell me we were getting another dog!”

Tai guffawed loudly. “Of course not! Unless…”

“No!!”

He only dissolved into more hysterics. Qrow was soon to follow, the joy contagious.

It was hard to know how long they stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, but eventually they found themselves sprawled together on the couch, talking long into the night about all the little wonders their future now held. From how they’d break the news to Ruby and Yang to how they wanted to decorate the spare room when it became a nursery, there was so much to think about. But rather than feel worried, Qrow only had anticipation in his heart.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d freak out.” He remarked, smoothing soothing circles along his mate’s back.

Tai rose a bit from where he was resting on his clavicle. “I mean, I know we talked about it here and there, but we hadn’t exactly planned this.”

“Sunshine, I dunno where you’ve been the past two decades, but nothing in my life was something I planned out.”

“That’s not-!” The omega paused his own argument, adding humbly, “…entirely true.”

He snorted. “Good save.” He carded a hand through blond locks. “Look. A few years ago, I never even dreamed I’d ever have you, let alone the chance to make a family with you. So, no matter how it happened, I definitely don’t need a plan to know I want this. Don’t you?”

“More than anything.” Tai confirmed, ducking his head. “In fact I… couldn’t help but think this was a do over. That this time I’d get to raise a child without interruption from, well, anything.”

Sorrow skimmed over their connection, almost unnoticeable. Old hurts from broken hearts and cruel injustices, things that had healed with time but never forgotten in how they hurt.

Qrow pressed a kiss to his forehead, murmuring, “Third time’s the charm?”

“Heh, guess it is. Though,” His expression turned teasing, “Aren’t you a bit of a bad luck charm, Mr. Crow?”

He groaned, dropping his head back against the armrest of the couch. “What did I ever do to deserve this?”

Tai pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “That’s the crime of loving me.”

“Well, if that’s the case, lock me up and throw away the key.” He declared like the delinquent he was.

“And you say I have bad jokes.”

“You do. I, on the other hand,” He said, gesturing grandly, “am an artiste.”

Tai’s chuckles were a victory all on their own.

But the reward was in the kiss that followed, devotion intertwining through the bond.

Qrow tilted his head, giving back as much as he was given. His left hand clenched onto the back of Tai’s shirt, where just underneath rested the colorful tapestry that once was the symbol of a new start. Now, it lay with his right hand’s caress to the side of Tai’s belly where their child was steadily and surely growing.

A new beginning that they’d embrace together.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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