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warsofasoiaf · 3 years ago

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Writing Characters With Believable Military PTSD

I typically write these writing and worldbuilding essays from a dispassionate perspective, offering advice and context to prospective writers from as neutral a point of view as I can manage, with the goal being to present specific pieces of information and broader concepts that can hopefully improve writing and build creators’ confidence to bring their projects to fruition, whether that be writing, tabletop gaming, video game programming, or anything that suits their fancy. While writing this essay though, I struggled to maintain that perspective. Certainly, the importance of the topic to me was a factor, but ultimately, I saw impersonality just as a suboptimal presentation method for something so intensely personal. I do maintain some impartiality particularly in places where historical or academic context is called for, but in other respects I’ve opted for a different approach. Ultimately, this essay is a labor of love for me, love for those who suffer from military PTSD, love for those who love those who suffer from it, and love for writers who want to, in the way that they so choose, help those two other groups out. Thus, this is a different type of essay in certain segments than my usual fare; I hope the essay isn’t an unreadable chimera because of it.

This essay focuses on military-related PTSD. While there are some concepts that translate well into PTSD in the civilian sphere, there are unique elements that do not necessarily fit the mold in both directions, so for someone hoping to write a different form of PTSD, I would recommend finding other resources that could better suit your purposes. I also recommend using more than one source just in general, trauma is personal and so multiple sources can help provide a wide range of experiences to draw upon, which should hopefully improve any creative work.

And as a final introductory note, traumatic experiences are deeply personal. If you are using someone you know as a model for your writing, you owe it to that person to communicate exactly what you are doing and to ask their permission every step of the way. I consider it a request out of politeness to implore any author who uses someone else’s experiences to inform their writing in any capacity, but when it comes to the truly negative experiences in someone’s life, this rises higher from request to demand. You will ask someone before taking a negative experience from their own life and placing it into your creative works, and you will not hide anything about it from them. Receiving it is a great sign of trust. The opposite is a travesty, robbing someone of a piece of themselves and placing it upon display as a grotesque exhibit. And if that sounds ghoulish and macabre, it’s because it is, without hyperbole. Don’t do it.

Why Write PTSD?

What is the purpose of including PTSD in a creative work? There have been plenty of art therapy actions taken by those who suffer PTSD to create something from their condition, which can be as profound for those who do not have it as it is therapeutic for those that do, but why would someone include it in their creative works, and why is some no-name guy on the internet writing an essay offering tips as to how to do it better?

Certainly, one key element is that it’s real, and it happens. If art is to reflect upon reality, PTSD suffered by soldiers is one element of that, so art can reflect it, but what specifically about PTSD, as opposed to any other facet of existence? Author preference certainly plays a factor, but why would someone try to include something that is difficult to understand and difficult to portray? While everyone comes to their own reason, I think that a significant number of people are curious about what exactly goes on in the minds of someone suffering through PTSD, and creative works allow them a way to explore it, much the way fiction can explore scenarios and emotions that are either unlikely or unsafe to explore in reality. If that’s the case, then the purpose of this essay is rather simple, to make the PTSD examination more grounded in reality and thus a better reflection of it. But experiences are unique even if discernable patterns emerge, so in that sense, no essay created by an amateur writer with no psychological experience could be an authoritative take on reality, the nature of which would is far beyond the scope of this essay.

For my own part, I think that well-done creative works involving PTSD is meant to break down the isolation that it can cause in its wake. Veterans suffering may feel that they are alone, that their loved ones cannot understand them and the burden of trying to create that would simply push them away; better instead to have the imperfect bonds that they currently have than risk losing them entirely. For those who are on the outside looking in, isolation lurks there as well, a gulf that seems impossible to breach and possibly intrusive to even try. Creative works that depict PTSD can help create a sense that victims aren’t alone, that there are people that understand and can help without demeaning the sense of self-worth. Of course, another element would be to reduce the amount of poorly-done depictions of PTSD. Some creative works use PTSD as a backstory element, relegating a defining and important element of an individual’s life as an aside, or a minor problem that can be resolved with a good hug and a cry or a few nights with the right person. If a well-done creative work can help create a bridge and break down isolation, a poorly-done one can turn victims off, reinforcing the idea that no one understands and worse, no one cares. For others, it gives a completely altered sense of what PTSD is and what they could do to help, keeping them out, confusing them, or other counter-productive actions. In that sense, all the essay is to help build up those who are doing the heavy lifting. I’m not full of so much hubris as to think this is a profound piece of writing that will help others, but if creators are willing to try and do the hard work of building a bridge, I could at least try to help out and provide a wheelbarrow.

An Abbreviated Look At The Many Faces and Names of PTSD Throughout History

PTSD has been observed repeatedly throughout human history, even when it was poorly understood. This means that explorations of PTSD can be written in settings even if they did not have a distinctly modern understanding of neurology, trauma, or related matters. These historical contexts are also useful for worldbuilding a believable response in fictional settings and scenarios that don’t necessarily have a strict analogue in our own history. By providing this historical context, hopefully I can craft a broad-based sense of believable responses to characters with PTSD at a larger level.

In the time of Rome, it was understood by legionnaires that combat was a difficult endeavor, and so troops were typically on the front lines engaged in combat for short periods of time, to be rotated back for rest while others took their place. It was considered ideal, in these situations, to rotate troops that fought together back so that they could rest together. The immediate lesson is obvious, the Romans believed that it was vital for troops to take time to process what they had done and that was best served with quiet periods of rest not just to allow the adrenaline to dissipate (the "combat high"), but a chance for the mind to wrap itself around what the legionnaire had done. The Romans also recognized that camaraderie between fellow soldiers helped soldiers to cope, and this would be a running theme throughout history (and remains as such today). Soldiers were able to empathize with each other, and help each other through times of difficulty. This was not all sanguine, however, Roman legions depended on their strong formations, and a soldier that did not perform their duty could endanger the unit, and so shame in not fulfilling their duty was another means to keep soldiers in line. The idea of not letting down your fellow soldiers is a persistent refrain in coping with the traumas of war, and throughout history this idea has been used for both pleasant and unpleasant means of keeping soldiers in the fight.

In the Middle Ages, Geoffroi de Charny wrote extensively on the difficulties that knights could experience on the campaign trail in his Book of Chivalry. The book highlights the deprivation that knights suffered, from the bad food and poor sleep to the traumatic experience of combat to being away from family and friends to the loss of valued comrades to combat and infection; each of these is understood as a significant stressor that puts great strain on the mental health of soldiers up to today. De Charny recommended focusing on the knightly oaths of service, the needs of the mission of their liege, and the duty of the knight to serve as methods to help bolster the resolve of struggling knights. The book also mentions seeking counseling and guidance from priests or other confidants to help improve their mental health to see their mission through. This wasn’t universal, however. Some severely traumatized individuals were seen as simple cowards, and punished harshly for their perceived cowardice as antithetical to good virtue and to serve as an example.

World War I saw a sharp rise in the reported incidents of military-related PTSD and new understandings and misunderstandings. The rise in the number of soldiers caused a rise in cases of military PTSD, even though the term itself was not known at the time. Especially in the early phases of the war, many soldiers suffering from PTSD were thought to be malingering, pretending to have symptoms to avoid being sent to the front lines. The term “shell shock” was derived because it was believed that the concussive force of artillery bombardment caused brain damage as it rattled the skull or carbon monoxide fumes would damage the brain as they were inhaled, as a means to explain why soldiers could have physical responses such as slurred speech, lack of response to external stimuli, even nigh-on waking catatonia, despite not being hit by rifle rounds or shrapnel. This would later be replaced by the term “battle fatigue” when it became apparent that artillery bombardment was not a predicative indicator. Particularly as manpower shortages became more prevalent, PTSD-sufferers could be sent to firing squads as a means to cow other troops to not abandon their post. Other less fatal methods of shaming could occur, such as the designation “Lack of Moral Fibre,” an official brand of cowardice, as an attempt to shame the members into remembering their duty. As the war developed, and understanding grew, better methods of treatment were made, with rest and comfort provided to slight cases, strict troop rotations observed to rotate men to and from the front lines, and patients not being told that they were being evacuated for nervous breakdown to avoid cementing that idea in their mind. These lessons would continue into World War II, where the term “combat stress reaction” was adopted. While not always strenuously followed, regular rotations were adopted as standard policy. This was still not universal, plenty of units still relied upon bullying members into maintaining their post despite mental trauma.

The American military promotes a culture of competence and ability, particularly for the enlisted ranks, and that lends itself to the soldier viewing themselves in a starkly different fashion than a civilian. Often, a soldier sees the inability to cope with a traumatic experience as a personal failure stemming from the lack of mental fortitude. Owning up to such a lack of capability is tantamount to accepting that they are an inferior soldier, less capable than their fellows. This idea is commonly discussed, and should not be ignored, but it is far from the only reason. The military also possesses a strong culture of fraternity that obligates “Don’t be a fuckup,” is a powerful motivating force, and it leads plenty of members of the military to ignore traumatic experiences out of the perceived need not to put the burden on their squadmates. While most professional militaries stress that seeking mental health for trauma is not considered a sign of weakness, enlisted know that if they receive mental health counseling, it is entirely likely that someone will have to take their place in the meantime. That could potentially mean that another person, particularly in front-line units, are exposed to danger that they would otherwise not be exposed to, potentially exacerbating guilt if said person gets hurt or killed. This is even true in stateside units, plenty of soldiers don’t report for treatment because it would mean dumping work on their fellows, a negative aspect of unit fraternity. Plenty of veterans also simply never are screened for mental health treatment, and usually this lends to a mentality of “well, no one is asking, so I should be fine.” These taken together combine to a heartbreaking reality, oftentimes a modern veteran that seeks help for mental trauma has often coped silently for years, perhaps self-medicating with alcohol or off-label drug usage, and is typically very far along their own path comparatively. Others simply fall through the cracks, not being screened for mental disorders and so do not believe that anything is wrong; after all, if something was wrong, surely the doctors would notice it, right? The current schedule of deployments, which are duration-based and not mission-based, also make it hard for servicemembers to rationalize their experiences and equate them to the mission; there’s no sense of pairing suffering to objectives the way that de Charnay mentioned could help contextualize the deprivation and loss. These sorts of experiences make the soldier feel adrift, and their suffering pointless, which is discouraging on another level. It is one thing to suffer for a cause, it’s another not to know why, amplifying the feelings of powerlessness and furthering the isolation that they feel.

Pen to Page - The Characters and Their Responses

The presentation of PTSD within a character will depend largely on the point-of-view that the author creates. A character that suffers from PTSD depending on the presence of an internal or external point-of-view, will be vastly different experiences on page. Knowing this is essential, as this will determine how the story itself is presenting the disorder. Neither is necessarily more preferable than the other, and is largely a matter of the type of story being told and the personal preference of the author.

Internal perspectives will follow the character’s response from triggering event to immediate response. This allows the author to present a glimpse into what the character is experiencing. In these circumstances, remember that traumatic flashbacks are merely one of many experiences that an average sufferer of PTSD can endure. In a visual medium, flashbacks are time-effective methods to portray a character reliving portions of a traumatic experience, but other forms of media can have other tools. Traumatic flashbacks are not necessarily a direct reliving of an event from start to finish, individuals may instead feel sudden sharp pains of old injuries, be overwhelmed by still images of traumatic scenes or loud traumatic sounds. These can be linked to triggers that bring up the traumatic incident, such as a similar sight, sound, or smell. These moments of linkage are not necessarily experienced linearly or provide a clear sequence of events from start to finish (memory rarely is unless specifically prompted), and it may be to the author’s advantage to not portray them as such in order to communicate the difficulty in mental parsing that the character may be experiencing. Others might be more intrusive, such as violently deranged nightmares that prevent sleep. The author must try to strike a balance between portraying the experience realistically and portraying it logically that audience members can understand. The important thing about these memories is that they are intrusive, unwelcome, and quite stressful, so using techniques that jar the reader, such as the sudden intrusive image of a torn body, a burning vehicle, or another piece of the traumatic incident helps communicate the disorientation. Don't rely simply on shock therapy, it's not enough just to put viscera on the page. Once it is there, the next steps, how the character reacts, is crucial to a believable response.

When the character experiences something that triggers their PTSD, start to describe the stress response, begin rapidly shortening the sentences to simulate the synaptic activity, express the fight-flight-freeze response as the character reacts, using the tools of dramatic action to heighten tension and portraying the experience as something frightful and distinctly undesirable. The triggering incident brings back the fear, such as a pile of rubble on the side of the road being a potential IED location, or a loud firework recalling the initial moments of an enemy ambush. The trauma intrudes, and the character falls deep into the stress response, and now they react. How does this character react? By taking cover? By attacking the aggressor who so reminds them of the face of their enemy? Once the initial event starts, then the character continues to respond. Do they try to get to safety? Secure the area and eliminate the enemy? Eventually, the character likely recognizes their response is inappropriate. It wasn’t a gunshot, it was a car backfiring, the smell of copper isn’t the sight of a blown-apart comrade and the rank odor of blood, it’s just a jug of musty pennies. This fear will lead to control mechanisms where the victim realizes that their response is irrational. Frequently, the fear is still there, and it still struggles with control. This could heighten a feeling a powerlessness in the character as they try and fail to put the fear under control: "Yes, I know this isn’t real and there’s nothing to be afraid of, but I’m still shaking and I am still afraid!" It’s a horrifying logical track, a fear that the victim isn’t even in control of their thoughts - the one place that they should have control - and that they might always be this way. There’s no safety since even their thoughts aren’t safe. Despair might also follow, as the victim frantically asserts to regain control. Usually with time, the fear starts to lessen as the logical centers of the brain regain control, and the fear diminishes. Some times, the victim can't even really recall the exact crippling sense of fear when attempting to recall it, only that they were afraid and that it was deeply scary and awful, but the notion that it happened remains in their mind.

Control mechanisms are also important to developing a believable PTSD victim. Most sufferers dread the PTSD response and so actively avoid objects or situations that could potentially trigger. Someone who may have had to escape from a helicopter falling into the ocean may not like to be immersed in water. Someone who was hit by a hidden IED may swerve to avoid suspicious piles in the road. Someone buried under a collapsing ceiling may become claustrophobic. Thus, many characters with PTSD will be hypervigilant almost to the point of exhaustion, avoiding setting off the undesired response. This hypervigilance is mentally taxing; the character begins to become sluggish mentally as all their energy is squeezed out, leaving them struggling for even the simplest of rational thoughts. This mental fog can be translated onto the page in dramatic effect by adding paragraph length to even simple actions, bringing the reader along into the fog, laboriously seeing the character move to perform simple actions. Then, mix in a loss of a sense of purpose. They’re adrift, not exactly sure what they’re doing and barely aware of what’s happening, although they are thinking and functioning. In the character’s daily life, they are living their life using maximum effort to avoid triggering responses; this is another aspect of control that the character can use as an attempt to claw back some semblance of power in their own lives. Even control methods that aren’t necessarily healthy such as drinking themselves to pass out every night or abusing sleeping pills in an attempt to sleep due to their nightmares, are ways to attempt to regain a sense of normalcy and function. Don’t condescend to these characters and make them pathetic, that’s just another layer of cruelty, but showing the unhealthy coping mechanisms can demonstrate the difficulty that PTSD victims are feeling. Combined with an external perspective, the author can show the damage that these unhealthy actions are doing without casting the character as weak for not taking a different path.

External perspectives focus on the other characters and how they observe and react to the individual in question. Since the internal thought process of the character is not known, sudden reactions to an unknown trigger can be quite jarring for characters unaware, which can mirror real-life experiences that individuals can have with PTSD-sufferers. In these types of stories, the character’s reaction to the victim is paramount. PTSD in real life often evokes feelings of helplessness in loved ones when they simply cannot act to help, can evoke confusion, or anger and resentment. These reactions are powerful emotions with the ability to drive character work, and so external perspectives can be useful for telling a story about what it is like for loved ones who suffer in their own fashion. External perspectives can be used not just in describing triggering episodes, but in exploring how the character established coping mechanisms and how their loved ones react to them. Some mechanisms are distinctly unhealthy, such as alcohol or prescription drug abuse, complete withdrawal, or a refusal to drive vehicles, and these create stress and a feeling of helplessness in characters or can impel them to try and take action. Others can be healthy, and a moment of inspiration and joy for an external perspective could be sharing in that mechanism, demonstrating empathy and understanding which evokes strong pathos, and hopefully to friends of those who suffer from PTSD, a feeling that they too, are not alone.

As the character progresses, successes and failures can often be one of the most realistic and most important things to include within the work, since those consumers who have PTSD will see parts of themselves in the characters, which can build empathy and cut down on the feelings of isolation that many victims of PTSD feel. A character could, over the course of the story, begin weaning themselves off of their control mechanisms, have the feelings of panic subside as their logical sides more quickly assert control, replace unhealthy coping mechanisms with healthier ones, or other elements of character progression and growth. Contrarily, a character making progress could, after experiencing significant but unrelated stressors, backslide either into unhealthy coping mechanisms or be blindsided by another attack. This is a powerful fear for the victim, since it can cause them to think ‘all my progress, all my effort, and I am not free!’ This is often a great fear for PTSD users (people with depression often have the same feeling) that find methods of coping are no longer as effective, and the struggle is perceived as one that they’re ultimately doomed to failure. This feeling of inevitable failure can lead to self-harm and suicide as their avenue of success seems to burn to ash right as it was in their hands. More than one soldier suffering from PTSD has ended up concluding: “Fuck it, I can’t live like this,” as horrible as that is. Don’t be afraid to include setbacks and backsliding, those happen in reality, and can be one of the most isolating fears in their lives; if the goal of portraying PTSD accurately is to help remove that feeling of isolation, then content creators must not avoid these experiences. Success as well as failure are essential to PTSD in characters in stories, these elements moreso than any other, I believe, will transcend the medium and form a connection, fulfilling the objective we set out to include in the beginning paragraphs.

Coming Back to the Beginning

It might be counterintuitive at first glance to say “including military PTSD will probably mean it will be a long journey full of discouraging story beats that might make readers depressed,” because that’s definitely going to discourage some readers to do that. I don’t see it that way, though. The people that want to do it should go in knowing it’s going to be hard, and let that strengthen their resolve, and put the best creation they can forward. The opposite is also true. Not every prospective author has to want to include any number of difficult subjects in their works, and that’s perfectly fine. Content creators must be free to shape the craft that they so desire without the need to be obligated to tackle every difficult issue, and so no content creator should be thought of as lesser or inferior because they opt not to include it in their works. I think that’s honestly stronger than handling an important topic poorly, or even worse, frivolously. Neither should anyone think that a content creator not including PTSD in their works means that they don’t care about those who suffer from it or for those who care about them or who simply don’t care about the subject in general. That’s just a terrible way to treat someone, and in the end, this entire excursion was about the opposite

Ultimately, this essay is a chance not only to help improve creative works involving PTSD, but to reflect on the creative process. Those who still want to proceed, by all means, do so. Hopefully this essay will help you create something that can reach someone. If every piece of work that helps portray PTSD can reach someone somewhere and make things easier, even if ever so little, well then, that’s what it’s really all about.

Hoping everyone has a peaceful Memorial Day. Be good to each to other.

SLAL

#essays on writing and worldbuilding #ptsd

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glenncoco4 · 3 years ago

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You Can Count On Me

A/N: Chapter 8

••••

Marty Deeks has been patient his entire life, whether that be waiting until Christmas morning to open presents or until a new Donnie & Marie album was released, but when it comes to one Kensi Marie Blye becoming his fiancé, he’s anything but. So he’s not at all deterred when he steps into the small antique shop in search of a ring. Her ring, without getting a yes first.

No, she hasn’t said yes to his proposal yet, but she did confess that she wanted everything with him. So even if it’s not a yes right now, it will be eventually and he wants to be ready.

Now here he is at the fourth store today, considering how large Los Angeles is and the amount of people, he thought it’d be easier than this. As he examines the display of unique and elegant jewelry, he begins to lose hope once again, nothing catching his eye.

The shaggy blonde’s attention is suddenly pulled away from his perusal when he looks over to the man behind the counter and the older lady that’s holding out something to him. He’s only a few feet away but the delicate features of the solitaire diamond ring scream out to him.

The older black woman feels the shaggy blonde’s stare, she turns, studying his face as his focus continues to stay on the ring in her hand. There’s one thing she’s learned in her 70 years of life and that’s the look of a man in love, but not just any love, a love that’s all consuming.

He’s pulled out of his trance, realizing that the two have stopped their conversation completely and the woman’s gaze is now on him. “I don’t mean to stare its just...”

“No need to apologize, I recognize that look on your face. Reminds me of my Henry.”

He flashes her sad smile, knowing just by the reverence in her voice that she’s talking about him in the past tense. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He was my first love...my only love. Some people don’t get that in life, we were lucky.”

“I know what you mean.”

Something in the way he drifts off for a minute with a dreamy gaze makes her consider her ring and the love she hopes it will be a part of again. “Tell me your story.”

Never missing the chance to talk about his girl, Deeks feels his lips pull into an automatic smile. “I met Kensi when I was 11 years old. My mom and I were in a bad situation at home and her family took us in. That first night we were there I had a flashback of sorts, as I was sitting there paralyzed in fear, she wrapped her arms around me and some part of me knew that I was finally home.” Shaking his head, he thinks about how easy it is for him to tell this woman with deep brown eyes full of understanding how much his best friend means to him. “I know its crazy, she was 8 years old, I was 11, but it made sense in my mind. Growing up we were inseparable, still are. We experienced so many life changing moments together and apart, but no matter what we were there for the other. She’s my person...the person I go to for everything, no matter how big or small it may be. I’ve always felt like I’m my most true and authentic self around her and she around me. We’re just synced. A few weeks ago we finally realized what everyone else around us saw from the start, we’re in love. It’s been 20 years and she still makes me feel like that safe little 11 year old boy. I didn’t see any point in waiting any longer, so I proposed to her a few days ago.”

The older woman takes a look around the store, expecting to see the young woman since he’s already proposed, she’d imagine they’d want to pick out the ring together. “Where is she?”

He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, a little embarrassed. “Well, she hasn’t said yes yet. My Kensi’s a thinker, she likes to look at a situation from all views.”

“But you’re still looking for a ring?”

“Yeah, because I know that she’ll be ready one day and when that day comes I want to give her something special with meaning behind it. I’ve been looking everywhere for the perfect ring and I was losing all hope until-“

“You saw mine.”

He smiles hopefully as she finishes his sentence. “Yes, ma’am.”

Without hesitation, she extends the delicate piece of jewelry towards him.

He hesitantly reaches for it, looking to her for confirmation. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. This ring deserves to continue being a representation of our kind of love. It represented mine and Henry’s for 50 years and now its for you and Kensi.”

“It’s so beautiful, I’m sure you could get so much more for it than what I have.”

“How much do you have, son?”

“Four thousand.”

It’s not about the money for her really and that’s when the idea strikes her. “I think we can make that work, but on one condition.”

It takes everything in him not to wrap the woman up in a bear hug. “Anything.”

“You let me meet this woman of yours.”

Nodding his head, he can’t agree fast enough. He thinks about his love and how sentimental she is, especially when it comes to their relationship. She’ll definitely want to meet that’s given them something so special. “I’d like that...we both would.”

••••

The next day at work its as if the universe is helping him out when the death of a marine who had suddenly come into a lot of money lands on their front door step. Of course its tragic but the shaggy blonde can’t help smile at the opportunity this case is bringing him.

Once the two pair of partners return from their respective assignments they gather in the bullpen, trying to figure out the different angels that could’ve resulted in the marine’s untimely demise.

“Maybe he was here to spend it.” Kensi speaks up, snowballing off of Callen’s statement about leaving behind a paper trail.

Sam’s eyebrows raise, nodding his head at the strong possibility that she may be right. “Corporal Peterson said he was thinking about getting married.”

“An engagement ring from Tiffany’s?” Deeks questions, knowing Corporal Porter had a serious girlfriend and it would be logical he’d be hunting for a spectacular ring now that money wasn’t really an issue.

The brunette locks eyes with her partner, flashing him a small grin. “You have no idea what that little blue box means to a girl.”

He smirks, thinking about the small delicate ring that’s in the black satin bag tucked in his wallet between a photo of them and Marg’s information. One of the main reasons he went in search at an antique shop is because he remembers the gaudy diamond ring Jack had proposed to her with and how it screamed the opposite of what his best friend was. That should’ve set off warning bells from the get go, because if there’s one thing Kensi Blye is not, its flashy. His girl isn’t one for bling and he knows the story behind the ring he bought will mean more to her than any content of a little blue box could. “Oh, but I do.”

••••

She’s been feeling him stare at her on and off all day...well more than usual. It’s when they’re walking towards the home goods store to question Porter’s girlfriend that she’s finally it. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

His brow furrows at her accusatory tone, shrugging his shoulders. “What, a guy can’t look at his fiancée?”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“Didn’t you?” He smirks, knowing good and well that they’re as good as engaged.

She shakes her head. He’s right, but there’s no reason for her to voice that, not that there’s really time to before they’re already at the front of the store.

As her partner goes off to distract Diane’s manager, Kensi’s able to question the blonde without interruption. It’s when the young woman talks about she and Porter picking out rings that she suddenly feels a strange kinship with her.

When Jack had proposed to her all those years ago she hadn’t really thought about how gaudy and so unlike her that the ring truly was. It wasn’t until he was off in Afghanistan that she would catch herself staring at the large diamond thinking that it didn’t belong there. Everything was different with him, she realizes that now that her rose colored glasses are off.

She’s been having these moments ever since Marty proposed, finding herself imagining what kind of ring he’d give her. He loves her like no other, he knows she’s not into blingy things. It makes her smile when she remembers all the times he’s seen women with large diamond rings and spouting off something about someone overcompensating. She’d laugh and that would make him laugh, and in turn they’d get stares from strangers making them laugh even harder. Never in her life has someone made her laugh the way Marty Deeks has.

Kensi’s focus goes back to the woman standing in front of her, against her own will the image of their roles reversed comes to the forefront of her mind. What if it was Marty that had been killed? The answer brings a gut wrenching ache over her.

••••

The jewelry store op had been a bust. As soon as the man behind the counter got a glimpse of Kensi’s bracelet the air shifted and they were immediately asked to leave. It may have not turned out like they planned but Deeks can’t help but love the fact he and his partner got to deceive their coworkers once again by “posing” as a couple. Kensi didn’t seem too keen on showing affection however, especially when Sam and Callen were just outside. He wasn’t the least bit surprised when the sharp point of her heel lands directly into the top of his foot.

So now here they sit in the bullpen, in silence, trying to figure out the team’s next move. He took over Callen’s chair so they could work more closely but neither have come up with any links to their victim in the myriad of old case files piled on each desk.

The shaggy blonde takes a look next to him, smiling at the pout that’s displayed on his girlfriend’s face. She hasn’t spoken a word in the past 30 minutes which is kind of worrisome. Afraid that he pushed to far by calling her his fiancée, he speaks up in hopes that she’ll respond. “Are you mad at me?”

“Dogs go mad. People...people get angry.”

The spark in her mismatched orbs makes him want to forget this nonsense and kiss her right then and there, but he quickly remembers the terms of their bet and knowing Callen isn’t anywhere around, he continues this little charade...for now. “Is this about the jewelry store? Listen, I was just trying to sell the fact that we were a couple.”

“Yeah, whatever. Like anybody would believe that we’re a couple.”

He has to hold back a laugh at her words because ever since middle school that’s all people thought they were. “You’re right. You are so not my type.”

••••

It takes longer than any of them anticipated but eventually Porter’s killer is caught. As Hetty congratulates them on a job well done, she hands Kensi a small ring box. The contents of said box are a delicate simple ring much like Diane had described.

She thinks back to the woman and her heart aches for the loss that she’ll never get over. The life that she’ll never get to experience with the man who she loved. She’s drawn out of her thoughts at the distinct laughter of her love filling the room. Looking across to Hetty’s office she watches as he exchanges some verbiage with Sam making Callen laugh and she could swear there’s a hint of a smile on the Operation Manager’s face. It’s then she realizes that she wants to accept Marty’s proposal. Who the hell cares that they’ve only been dating for a few weeks. They’ve known each other their whole lives and she doesn’t ever want to live without him. There’s just one thing she has to do first.

Taking out her phone, she presses call on the newly added number “Diane, hey, Special Agent Kensi Blye, NCIS. I was wondering if I could drop by. I have something that Tom left for you.”

••••

Deeks watched from the passenger seat of the SRX as his partner handed over the small box to Diane. As she pried it open, tears immediately sprang to the woman’s eyes and before either knew it her arms were wrapped around the junior agent in a giant bear hug. It suddenly made him think about what if he were the one that died, leaving Kensi all alone. The thought alone breaks his heart in two.

A few minutes later the pair bid their farewells and part ways. He’s surprised a little at the look in her eyes, its not one of sadness but there’s something else, something he’s not sure how to describe.

The shaggy blonde is so focused on his girlfriend that he doesn’t realize she misses the turn towards his apartment, instead she keeps going for a few minutes until she hits the Santa Monica exit. A few minutes later they’re back in the same spot at the overlook where they were just a week ago.

“What are we doing here?”

She turns towards him, that unrecognizable look still swirling in her mismatched eyes. “Well, I’ve been thinking.”

#Densi #Kensi Blye #Marty Deeks #Densi Fanfic #Kensi x Deeks #NCIS: LA #You Can Count On Me

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cobra-diamond · 5 years ago

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The East Asian Origins of the Fire Nation and Its Villains

Introduction

Over the years, many volumes of fandom blood have been spilled from discussions concerning the Fire Nation’s main villains, Ozai and Azula. Paralleling this have been arguments over their relationships with Zuko, Iroh, Ursa, Mai, Ty Lee, with each other, even with themselves. Since Ozai and Azula are the figureheads of the Fire Nation that Zuko must peacefully restore the honor of, it is worthwhile understanding why people “like them” are considered proper leaders of the current Fire Nation.

Most of these discussions have sought to create “theories” that explain these characters as exclusively combinations of mental illness, personality disorders and various emotional traumas.

A couple examples of these discussions are the essays “Azula, the Embodiment of Jealousy and Neglect,” and “Three Pillars Theory of Azula.” These two essays are just examples, but they capture the widespread strategy the fandom has employed in trying to understand the motivations and goals of Ozai and Azula and their various relationships with the other characters. In addition, the shouting matches between Azula “fans” and “haters” also illustrates these discussions. Since the franchise has yielded so few hard answers, these importance of these discussions has not waned.

What these discussions focus on, as represented by those essays, are the characters’ apparent emotional problems, theoretical moral compasses and perceived inadequacies in the eyes of their families. Typically, the “lens” these discussions view these villains through is one that tries to relate them to present day spousal and domestic abuse narratives, namely as being both “abuser” and “victim” in a cycle of abuse that can be related to the modern, real world.

What these conversations do not provide are adequate explanations for how the historical, political, military and cultural aspects of the Fire Nation molded these military leaders. You would think that people with “Lord” and “Princess” in their names, who train daily for warfare and hand-to-hand combat, would make their responsibilities take center stage in their lives.

While there is a place for “nitty gritty” psychological examinations for understanding certain behaviors, trying to depict the Fire Nation villains as purely allegories of modern day domestic abusers, empathy deficient bullies and people afflicted by personality disorders eliminates Avatar’s most unique and defining characteristic: its East Asian origins.

You don’t need beautiful animation, martial arts-styled bending and immersion in a fantasy world to explain how families in the modern era can hurt their children for petty reasons. We have that in our own lives. We have friends and families who have experienced that. It can be addressed in any other setting. It can be addressed in Avatar but it doesn’t need Avatar to address it.

What we don’t experience in our modern lives is ancient China 2000 years ago, or feudal Japan after the takeover of the Tokugawa Shogun, or religious monks living in their temples in the mountains untouched by the modern world, and so on.

The setting of Avatar is one of both beauty and relative detachment from the real (and modern) world, but it is one that is based on a period of history and human civilization that most of Avatar’s audience (North America and Europe) have little exposure to. If the characters’ motivations are too detached from the fictional world in which they live (i.e. by ignoring the historical, political, military and cultural context), then you begin to lose the world’s depth. At the same time, if their motivations are too connected to the present world, then all Avatar is is a visual motif of ancient East Asia.

By seeking to explain the Fire Nation villains as embodiments of modern psychology’s understanding of “bad” people, you erase the opportunity to apply East Asia’s very real history of warfare, monarchical domination and oppressive cultures to a fictional world that is trying to say something about that warfare, monarchical domination and oppressive cultures. Note that the show did in fact achieve this with the Dai Lee’s corruption and manipulation of the Earth King; it depicted loosely the very real occurrence of Chinese Emperors being “kept in the dark” by their advisors so as not to interfere with the “real” governing of the states.

If your goal is to view Avatar purely as an allegory for modern dysfunctional relationships and domestic abuse, you lose Avatar’s uniqueness as a fictional dive into an East Asian-inspired world, especially one that is ravaged by warfare and feudalism.

In this article, I describe an alternative model for understanding the Fire Nation’s culture and history, and how its politics and military molded its heroes and villains.

What We Know and Might Know

In order to fill the gaps in our knowledge of the Fire Nation, we first have to understand what is both known about the Fire Nation and what can be reasonably presumed about it.

First, what do we know about the Fire Nation?

1. The Fire Nation is an archipelago with a history spanning thousands of years.

2. The Fire Nation was originally the “Fire Islands” and was not initially governed by a central power.

3. The Fire Islands had a unified cultural and religious authority in the form of the “Fire Sages”.

4. Eventually, the Fire Islands were unified by a single power—the “Imperial Government”—and afterward became known as the “Fire Nation”.

5. The Imperial Government is headed by a supreme ruler: the “Fire Lord”.

6. The Fire Lord is a hereditary monarch whose family is considered the “Royal Family”, both of which are separate entities from the Fire Sages.

7. The Fire Sages remain a distinct entity from the Imperial Government.

8. Both the Fire Lord and Royal Family are military and administrative rulers.

9. The Fire Lord and their Royal Family are not sacred and everlasting; their power can be “challenged” by rival leaders.

10. Fire Lords are expected to “show their worth” and be competent fighters in their own right; prowess in military arts and control of subordinates are valued traits.

11. Agni Kais are a longstanding component of Fire Nation culture.

12. The Fire Nation experienced an “unprecedented time of peace and wealth” during the era of the Fire Nation, not during the era Fire Islands.

Next, what can be reasonably presumed given what we know?

Something necessitated the Fire Islands becoming unified, but this unification did not result in the Fire Sages taking power, nor did it yield a peaceful, democratic government.

The Imperial Government that resulted from this unification is rooted in military control and maintaining the fealty of its subjects; in Avatar and the Fire Lord, Sozin put on his “ruler persona” to Roku initially before acting friendly, only later to demand loyalty from him as if Roku was any other subject.

The culture of the Fire Nation values strength and bravery from its firebenders, as explained in an official description of Agni Kais. Presumably, the Agni Kai predates the era of the Fire Lord and has been used to settle disputes of various kinds. This could be interpreted as a “non-destructive” means of avoiding war and greater loss of life given how easily firebenders could wreak havoc to wooden buildings and crops (among other flammable components of society). Since nobody recognized Zuko on Ember Island in The Beach, despite his obvious scar, severe scars from burns must be common enough in the Fire Nation that a teen boy having one on his face is not horrifying nor particularly unattractive.

Presumably, the Fire Nation/Fire Islands used to hold its religion and spiritual ties in higher regard, but Sozin’s start of the war required this aspect of the Fire Nation to be suppressed, as implied by dragon hunting and the divided loyalties of the Fire Sages at Roku’s temple, and the fact that various generals and admirals have defected. At the same time, vast enough swaths of the country and its leadership did follow Sozin’s path, considering that he and his family remained in power for over a hundred years. If Fire Lords can have their power challenged, then either nobody tried to stop Sozin, or they were defeated. Azula’s comment about “rumors of plans to overthrow him (Ozai)” in The Avatar State implies betrayal of the Royal Family is not a dormant threat. Though she was technically lying, it must have been a credible lie since neither Iroh and Zuko thought it was preposterous; his brother being “regretful” is what puzzled Iroh, not that there would be plots against the Fire Lord.

Notably, the Fire Lord’s throne room changed between the start of the war and the present day. Prior to Sozin, it did not have the imposing wall of flame as it does now. Certainly it had to be rebuilt after Roku destroyed it, but the wall of flame is much more imposing than the old.

The Fire Sages still pay a role in the Fire Nation, but this role is not known. Presumably, they play some part in the succession of the Fire Lord since they preside over coronation. Perhaps the relationship between the Fire Lord and Fire Sages is similar to the relationship between the Japanese Emperor and the Shoguns, where the Shoguns held the true power in the country (military and administrative) whereas the Emperor maintained a facade of power as a cultural and religious symbol. What is known about the Fire Sages is that they have a temple in the capital and are divided between their loyalties to the Avatar and the Fire Lord.

Finally, the Imperial Government’s capital is located in an isolated, fortified city inside a volcano’s caldera, where coming-and-going is strictly controlled. The city is large, full of nobility, physically disconnected from the external port city (versus directly being the hub of economic activity) and contains numerous underground bunkers.

Why would the Capital require such extensive bunkers and fortifications? Presumably because the Fire Lord and Royal Family can be “challenged” and the bunkers are a defense mechanism against both external and internal threats. The Fire Nation did have a “darkest day” tied to solar eclipses, which suggests that the loss of firebending had profound military consequences. Whatever the reasons, the Imperial Government is so concerned about its survival that it has constructed massive fortifications around its capital, implying that warfare is a major concern.

Areas of Confusion

But what does all of this mean?

Was the Fire Nation previously peace-loving and compassionate while Sozin is responsible for all of its “evils”?

Have Agni Kais been performed for centuries and so Zuko being challenged to one was neither unusual nor particularly grotesque for the Fire Nation’s culture?

Did Sozin face massive opposition to starting the war or was everyone humbly obedient to the Fire Lord?

How is a Fire Lord’s rule challenged?

Why wasn’t Sozin overthrown if he had to “impose” the war upon the country?

Why did the Fire Lord come to existence in the first place?

Why has the Imperial Government not been replaced by the Fire Sages?

Why does the Fire Nation need a national government?

What is a more compelling explanation for the Fire Nation’s villains other than mental illness and personality disorders?

As it turns out, there is a way to understand the Fire Nation that adequately fills in the gaps, explains its heroes and villains and provides a lesson on East Asian history.

A Brief History of Ancient Japan’s Unification

The islands of Japan have been populated for tens of thousands of years, but the “modern” era of warlords and emperors did not begun until the past 1500 years or so. While the Japanese people were not united under a single state, there was an “Emperor” who was believed to have been descended from a goddess. Despite this first emperor having control over a certain portion of Japan, it did not take long until the country split into separate feudal states.

While the Emperor never went away, their power over the country waned. The real power in Japan laid in the hands of the various feudal lords (daimyo), who used their armies to defend their territories and capture new ones from other lords.

Since the Emperor represented a shared cultural connection among the people, their power was not completely absent. In the earlier parts of history, before the Emperor became completely subordinated, the Emperor would appoint a Seii Taishōgun, or supreme commander, of the Emperor’s armies. Eventually, this “supreme commander” became the actual ruler of the Japan since they controlled the military. By appointing them “shogun” they more or less had the public approval of the Emperor despite the Emperor not actually being able to control them.

Various shoguns came and went, but through it all were the daimyo using their samurai to battle for control of the country. Ruthlessness and murder were common. Building alliances only to later betray them were often wise tactics. For a thousand years, the rulers of Japan lived by the sword, died by the sword and used it to maintain their power. Things got particularly bad during the Sengoku Period, which is considered the “Warring States” period of Japan. That tells you all you need to know.

It was during this time that one of these feudal lords rose to power, a man named Tokugawa Ieyasu (first name Ieyasu, last name Tokugawa). Using a combination of political tact, military genius and European steel breast armor, he defeated all other daimyo during the Azuchi–Momoyama period and installed himself as the shogun of the Tokugawa Shogunate. This marked the end of over a thousand years of continuous violence and social turmoil in Japan.

The Tokugawa Shogunate represented Japan’s first unified national government. The country’s existing daimyo were placed under strict control to ensure they did not rebel. The military was nationalized and the existing feudal governments rearranged to ensure centralized control by the Shogun in his capital at Edo. Notably, Edo became modern day Tokyo.

National laws were written, along with cultural and religious standards to ensure social cohesiveness, stability and control. The economies of Japan also flourished, especially in the cities. A consequence of the Tokugawa Shogunate, however, was closing off Japan to the outside world. The Shogun wanted to ensure their rule and control of the populace. Allowing other countries to influence them and provide assistance to competing powers within the country was viewed as destabilizing.

A particularly unique aspect of the Tokugawa’s politic strategy was requiring the daimyos’ families to live in the capital while the daimyo themselves had to go back and forth between their homes in their territory (called a domain) and their homes in the capital every other year. The Shogun essentially held the daimyos’ families hostage to ensure they would not rebel or work against him, although they lived in the comfort and relative freedom of a modern city, not as actual prisoners.

Another tactic the Shogun utilized to quell rebellion was to keep careful control of who entered the city of Edo and its surroundings. Guards were at all entrances and major roads and registries were kept of all people. Essentially, if you weren’t suppose to be somewhere, you weren’t allowed to be there.

Bushdio also developed during this period as way of controlling the warrior class, and was much more complicated than most Western depictions. With war and feudal fighting no longer a constant threat, the samurai class became enforces for the new government. Naturally, the Shogun was particularly interested in controlling them.

Control is a common theme of the Tokugawa Shogun’s government.

The Tokugawa Period was one of peace and stability, prosperity and enjoyment of the arts, but Ieyasu Tokugawa was not a nice person. He hunted down and executed the families of rival clans, including kids, during the takeover. He held families hostage and made sure his subordinates feared him and never stepped out of line. He enacted strict laws to control the populace and made sure no one could challenge him and his government’s reign. And it worked. Japan did not experience another war until the end of the Tokugawa Shogunate 278 years later, when the Emperor regained control and ended the era of isolationism. There’s a reason why modern day Japan doesn’t view this period with derision and loathing; given the context of the time, it was a proud moment for a region racked by warfare and division.

A pattern is beginning to emerge: an island nation ruled by feuding lords with no central power to direct them; a religious and cultural figure with no real power; a period of intense warfare and turmoil followed by a lasting period of unification and prosperity; a powerful central government headed by a hereditary monarch who took power using ruthlessness and military might; a hereditary monarch who rules through fear and demands fealty; a capital city with strict control of who comes and goes.

Themes of control and subordination from a central power.

This is sounds very familiar.

The Military and Political History of the Fire Nation

The history of ancient Japan provides a real-world model for understanding the origins of the Fire Nation’s Imperial Government, the Fire Lord and why they rule through fear and military domination. Keep in mind that the Fire Nation is not Japan, but warfare, centralized control and a desire for peace and stability are universal. Ancient Japan’s experience with feudalism, warfare and the eventual peace that came from having a competent central authority can go a long way in applying Avatar’s “East Asian origins” to the Fire Nation and its villains and heroes.

Using the rise of the Tokugawa Shogunate as a template, the history of the Fire Nation looks like this:

The Fire Islands were ruled by various feudal lords. These feudal lords engaged in warfare with each other as they vied for ever increasing control. Firebending was the primary source of these lords’ military might. The Fire Sages were recognized as spiritual and religious leaders by the Fire Islands people, but they did not have the practical power necessary to enforce peace upon the lands.

At the same time, firebending was recognized as being fundamental to the influence of the Fire Sages and the power of the feudal lords. Since fire can destroy houses, burn fields, melt iron and lay waste to non-bending armies, whoever can control and weaponize firebending for their own purposes will attain the most power. On the other hand, this also makes warfare particularly destructive as even small rebellions could lay waste to cities given how much fire a single firebender can unleash.

At some point, in order to put a stop to the fighting, a central authority came to power, either as one of those warlords or a Fire Sage acquiring enough military and political power. Maybe an avatar helped them. Without a doubt, military might had to have played a role in ending the “Warring States” period of the Fire Islands.

In order to make sure the Fire Islands did not fall back into fighting and remained peaceful and stable, this new central authority created a sweeping national government to control them. Thus are the beginnings of the Fire Lord and Imperial Government.

Because the Fire Nation is full of people with ”desire and will, and the energy and drive to achieve what they want” (in the words of Uncle Iroh), the destructive capacity inherent to a nation full of firebenders must be kept under strict control; if the goal is to create a prosperous, flourishing society, you cannot allow it to be destroyed periodically by walking flamethrowers.

As a result, the Imperial Government is not a “friendly” entity. It controls the nobility and lords who act as the local “vassals” in their home territories; it amasses a large, overwhelming military to quash any attempts at rebellion, and to send a clear message to its people to not even try; it uses fear and threats of violence to control the people who might feel the “drive and willpower” to try their hand at acquiring wealth and power through force.

The Agni Kai exists as a means of settling conflict without the destructive consequences of firebending. Perhaps a Fire Lord enacted this to further tamp down on firebenders’ destructive tendencies. It may also be an example of how the Fire Nation’s “warrior class” handles internal disputes in a similar manner as bushido.

Bravery, ferocity and a willingness to fight are valued in the leadership of the country because the Imperial Government is supposed to be a military entity first; how can the Fire Lord, their family and government inspire fear in the people if the people don’t believe they will be crushed if they step out of line?

At the same time, since the Fire Nation is much smaller than the Earth Kingdom, the Fire Lord must ensure they can defend the Fire Nation from invasion; you need a large, devoted, competent military to go up against an enemy multiple times your size.

In order to further control the country, the Fire Lord requires the families of the lords and nobility to live in the closed-off, guarded capital inside the caldera in a similar manner as the Tokugawa Shogunate required. This is why the capital is so guarded and closed-off, yet beautiful and comfortable; it is both a defensive measure for the administrative officials and a means of holding the nobility “hostage”.

The Fire Lord and Royal Family views themselves as presiding over, and maintaining the peace and stability of the Fire Nation. Their responsibility is to ensure that the peaceful Fire Nation does not fall back into the chaotic Fire Islands. Being nice and democratic is not their means of achieving this; making sure everybody subordinates themselves to the Imperial Government is.

After hundreds of years of peace and an unprecedented era of prosperity, the Fire Nation began to lose its internal enemies. The lords and nobility were under full control. The Imperial Government was vast and efficient. Nobody was trying to invade the Fire Nation. Everyone was happy and proud of their culture and government.

This allowed Sozin to begin looking outward. Using the all-powerful Imperial Government apparatus developed over the centuries, plus the sweeping loyalty to it ingrained into the public, he was able to get the country to go to war against the world. The militarism inherent to the Fire Nation’s leadership was not crafted out of whole cloth but simply cranked up and sent down a dark path.

The military being so willing to go along with it was because of their inherent loyalty to the Imperial Government and their culture of aggression and lust for battle necessary for warriors. This is actually where the 20th century Imperial Japan connections come in, but that’s a separate topic.

In summary, the Fire Lord and Royal Family view themselves as stewards of the peace and order of the Fire Nation. They see their responsibility as doing whatever it takes to prevent the “bad old days” from returning and that the Fire Nation is never weakened by foreign invaders. They rule through coercion and fear in order to ensure a country full of people who can shoot fire out of their hands remain subservient to the Imperial Government’s will. They embrace a culture of fighting because their primary goal is to prevent fighting by deterring those who might want to try.

An Alternate View of the Fire Nation’s Villains

Viewing the Fire Nation’s culture, government and leadership through the lens of Japanese history paints a more coherent picture of the Fire Nation’s villains, versus the M.C. Escher-like theories that result from focusing entirely on mental illness and personality disorders.

Look at it like this: the Fire Lord demands fealty and obedience from the people yet Azula’s emphasis on controlling people through fear is a result of Freudian Excuses and personality disorders?

No way.

Ruling through fear and coercion is necessary from the viewpoint of a soldier-princess who is supposed to command obedience from subjects, or else.

Agni Kais are expected events in Fire Nation culture, so common that child-Zuko is perfectly happy to face the general over mere “disrespect”, but the Fire Lord challenging his son to one is uniquely out of line? It’s awful, I mean, really awful, but it’s not out of line and it says a lot about the ingrained culture of the Fire Nation; Ozai didn’t think it would be viewed as shameful by everyone watching. Keep in mind that the tale of the 47 Ronin started with one member of the nobility insulting the other (essentially) and being asked to commit suicide simply for drawing a weapon inside Edo Castle (strictly forbidden). If Ozai can have his power challenged as any other Fire Lord can, then nobody was willing to oppose him because everyone else supported him.

Iroh spends a lifetime invading the Earth Kingdom, no doubt killing tens of thousands, and he can joke about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground? Of course he can, because it’s what Fire Nation generals do and part of the terrible culture that must be changed, as horrible as it was. The prince-general is supposed to be a military leader and enjoy what he does. He better not be squeamish.

Zuko is expected to be “loved and adored” for having firebending talent, courtly manners (to quote official descriptions of Azula) and intelligence in a similar fashion as his prodigal, early-blooming sister? Yes, because she bloomed early as the type of princess the nobility and leadership want and expect. It’s unfortunate they were so hard on Zuko, but now we know why he wasn’t “adored” like his sister; she was what others wanted Zuko to be.

Ty Lee is strong-armed by Azula into leaving the life she loves, even having her life threatened, when Ty Lee is a family member of the nobility that the Imperial Government seeks to control? Of course she is strong-armed. Can you really imagine this scenario playing out:

Those lines are taken from the show. Sounds a lot different, doesn’t it? Ignore the smirking and smugness for a moment and think about what is actually happening: a supreme military leader and heir to the throne is bullying a subordinate in order to get what they are entitled to; unwavering loyalty from a subject. Doesn’t make it good. Doesn’t make Ty Lee’s fear and loathing of Azula any less justified, but it puts it in a much more relevant context than vague theories of sadism and personality disorders. It also tells us something about the real ancient world: this how military rulers in East Asia’s history behaved and now you’re getting to see it in a fictional setting.

Fire Lord Azulon orders one of his sons to execute their son? That’s bad. Really bad. Did you also know that Ieyasu Tokugawa ordered his own son to commit suicide over suspicion he was conspiring against him? He didn’t want to but those were the wishes of the lord he was working with to win the war. That’s really bad too, and not shocking for the era, unfortunately. The leaders of the ancient world valued human life a lot less than people do now. It’s sad they didn’t value it more.

Manipulating subordinates (i.e. playing them off each other) and being ruthless were not frowned upon, but legitimate tactics. Murder and backstabbing were useful means of getting rid of an opposing leader. What mattered was winning, and the blood on your hands could simply be washed off, and if people didn’t like you for it? Well, were they in charge?

None of this is “good”. None of this is moral, or righteous, or anything close to how people should act in the modern era. However, these were not kleptocratic dictators like we see around the world today. These were legitimate administrative rulers by their day’s standards, and we (you and me) will never truly know what they were feeling when they woke up in the morning with the responsibilities of warfare and politicking.

We will never be able to completely relate to what these ancient leaders did. Do you know what it’s like to be the law in the land who can order people to commit suicide, and who will do it? Do you know what it’s like to prosecute a political and military war against multiple opponents across a vast country? Do you know what it’s like to manage an ancient authoritarian government after hundreds of years of warfare and chaos? None of us will, but that’s the kind of situation that a fictional country like the Fire Nation can take inspiration from, and should take inspiration from.

These were all very real problems of the ancient world and problems which Avatar, as a fictional work, can allow us to explore in the safety and comfort of not actually having to be there (and without having to open up huge history books).

Summary

The Fire Nation’s political and military history can be modeled on ancient Japan’s, in particular the rise of the Tokugawa Shogunate, where the Fire Lord represents the shogun and the Fire Sages the emperor.

The Fire Nation capital is both the head of the administration and home to the nobility’s families, who are held as hostages (in comfort) to prevent the various lords from rebelling.

The Royal Family and Imperial Government rules through fear and threats of force because they have to keep a country full of walking flamethrowers in line.

As military leaders who can have their power challenged, firebending talent and military prowess are highly valued and necessary for Fire Lords. At the same time, the rest of the country’s leadership wants leaders who appear worthy of that power and authority, hence those who have all the right qualities (Azula) are viewed in higher regard than those who have less (Zuko).

Azula’s emphasis on using “fear to control people” is not a psychological hang-up but a natural tactic of the Fire Lord, military, and Imperial Government to maintain obedience; as a teenager with limited life experience, she has internalized her role as a princess and warrior to the detriment of her personal relationships and emotional maturity (this is where the “child soldier” narrative has relevance).

Ozai represents the pinnacle of self-interest, authoritarianism and militarism that the combination of Sozin’s War and the longstanding nature of the Imperial Government have combined to create. In the ancient world, lords waged warfare for two reasons: to acquire power or pre-emptively wipe out rivals. Ozai wants power.

Ozai challenging Zuko to an Agni Kai is awful but not unusual, hence why he felt he could do it at all. Agni Kais are a fundamental aspect of conflict resolution in the Fire Nation, most likely because the Fire Nation’s leadership values bravery and a willingness to fight very highly. As Zuko was a prince and future leader of the warrior class, those values applied to him as well, but they got applied to him far too young (again, this is where the “child soldier” narrative has relevance).

And finally, by modeling the motivations of the Fire Nation’s villains and heroes on the military leaders of ancient Japan, you have the opportunity to learn about and critique that ancient society while also giving it a fictional flare.

As a final remark on applying the history of ancient Japan to the Fire Nation, the Tokugawa Shogunate ended when the Emperor forcibly took control of the Tokugawa government in order to end the forced isolationism. If ancient Japan hadn’t been pressured to adapt to more advanced European civilizations (say, if it existed in a vacuum) then the Tokugawa Shogunate might have continued to be the longest and most stable period in Japanese history; post-World War 2 Japan is only 70 years old while the Tokugawa Shogunate lasted for 278. When the Emperor wrested control of the country from the Shogunate, there was already enough peace, stability and government bureaucracy in place to lead a rapid transition of the country into modernity. That was the ultimate value of the Tokugawa Shogunate.

If the Fire Islands had not unified under a central authority, then they might have never industrialized so rapidly during that “unprecedented time of peace and prosperity” and may have eventually been conquered by the Earth Kingdom (should an EK conqueror have found a way of killing the Avatar, or taking advantage of their absence).

Conclusion

Think about ancient Japan for a moment. All of the warring lords. The conquest and ruthless political maneuvering. The ruling through fear and totalitarian control. What is a more reasonable explanation for the behavior of that society: mental illness and personality disorders, or universal concepts of ancient nation-building?

What makes more sense for furthering Avatar’s East Asian themes in terms of the Fire Nation: sociopathy, personality disorders, lack of fundamental human qualities, petty bullies and insecure abusers? Or universal concepts of ancient nation-building in the context of people who can shoot fire out of their hands?

Was Ieyasu Tokugawa suffering from a personality disorder? Was ancient Japan swimming with people who lacked fundamental human traits? That would be and absolutely extraordinary anomaly of human genetic variation.

When discussing the evils of the Fire Nation, you have to start with the in-world context that created them, and in order to understand that context, you have to apply some East Asian history. Why “decent” or “normal” people end up doing terrible things is a question as old as humanity itself and should not be erased from Avatar.

In order to understand why Ozai and Azula seem like “bad” people to us, it’s because the rulers of ancient Japan acted like bad people. Zuko can’t be soft and fumbling. Azula can’t let people say no to her. Iroh can’t abandon the siege with no consequences. Ozai can’t let Zuko refuse to fight. As bad as many of these things are, they are driven by the fact these people are the most powerful entities in their country and must show their fire-wielding subordinates that they deserve their power and should not be challenged. There is no room for weakness, only strength and competence.

When you resort to psychological theories or genetic anomalies to explain the Fire Nation’s villains, you erase the opportunities to tie the Fire Nation to critical elements of East Asian history, namely the rise and success of the Tokugawa Shogunate. By relating the main villains of Avatar to the very real “villains” of the ancient world, you preserve the East Asian themes that make Avatar unique and informative to a Western audience and help shed light on what drove them to be what they were.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #atla meta #fire nation #Azula #ozai #Zuko #iroh

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sareesonscreen · 3 years ago

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S1 E4: Saucy Deep Dives: Third Person SIngular Number

After spending the last two months watching and examining Bollywood hits, it’s been very exciting for us to introduce our audience to hits from all across South Asia. In this episode, we are thrilled to be watching a Bangladeshi favorite made by one of the most famous contemporary directors there.

Mostofa Sarwar Farooki came into the scene in the early 2000s, at a time when mainstream television and cinema largely existed either in the form of family entertainment or copy-pasted “hero’s journey” scripts made for quick consumption.

This is where Farooki came in with his more casual and approachable filmmaking. His stories revolved around the relatable everyday struggles of ordinary people. This also meant utilizing colloquial language in his cinema (which was rare, given that the media at the time would only depict formal Bangla or a standard dialectical Bangla [for rural stories]).

Third Person Singular Number (2009) was Farooki’s third movie, which solidified his position as one of the most notable contemporary directors in Bangladesh.

Third Person Singular Number is conceptualized as a fairytale-like story of Ruba (played brilliantly by Nusrat Imroz Tisha, Farooki’s partner, and long-time muse), who is confronted by the challenges of being a single woman in South Asia, after her partner (note, not husband lol) is sent to jail. Ruba struggles with constant harassment as she attempts to find housing and employment. The Prince Charming character of this movie comes to us in the form of Ruba’s childhood friend - Topu (a successful musician in Bangladesh, both in the movie and IRL), whose support helps in making Ruba feel safe. Her feelings for Topu force Ruba to engage with her conflicted relationship with her mother (who left her father for her lover) as well as her fidelity to her jailed partner.

One of the most remarkable things about the film is its deliberate focus on Ruba and how it centers her perspective - this is extremely apparent in the cinematography and Farooki being able to employ the feminine gaze aptly. The first half of the movie depicts at length the various ways in which women become victims of sexual assault - be it at home, in public, or in professional spaces.

There's this one scene in particular, where Ruba becomes hesitant to go to the police station as she recalls a news story from a couple of weeks ago where a woman was r*ped at one. A male gaze retelling of this would tell the audience through action - a flashback where the woman is facing violence, or perhaps when Ruba was reading the paper, or conversing about it with someone. But in this story, Farooki chose to make this woman materialize in front of Ruba and tell the story herself. Not only giving voice to an unnamed woman who had met a horrible fate, but also creating a moment of emotional connection between the two women. It humanized what is often just reduced to news headlines, statistics, or water filter conversations. There are hints throughout that she is an unreliable narrator. Resulting in the (spoiler alert!) the fairytale-esque second half of the movie. Fairytales, historical romances, and fan-fictions often serve as great mediums for social commentary, particularly on the dynamics of power (esp. geared towards women). The fact that the only escape available to Ruba from her bleak reality is an absurd Prince Charming figure speaks heavily to the harsh reality of the real Rubas of the world. For them, her ending would not be a possibility.

The use of space in the visuals of the film was also noteworthy, with Ruba being shown to feel trapped or caged in the company of predatory men (even including her own partner, whom she feels stifled by later in the film). This is often done through the use of close and medium shots, along with physical obstructions in the shot. Meanwhile, her relationship with Topu is shown to be much more affectionate and easy-going; this is depicted with a wide shot of the beautiful kashbons of Bashundhara. Not only was this technique used to remark on the state of Ruba’s mind (which is rare given that male directors rarely highlight women’s perspectives), it also commentated on the wider issue of South Asian women and how they are often made to feel small and struggle to find space (be it physically or metaphorically).

This beautiful work with space is further used to remark on the silence of the other women in the film (notably, Ruba’s cousin, friend, and mother). Unlike Ruba, the only woman with a voice (and the narrator, of course), these women are often seen in the confines of layered cage-like homes (with distinct obstructions like columns, furniture, etc. present in every layer). These characters, like their real-life counterparts, often exist in the crevices of their own homes and are stifled by the domineering presence of the patriarchal structures and insecurities around them.

The two noteworthy women characters (aside from Ruba) are her cousin and her mother. Both of whom we know very little about. However, in their fleeting moments on the screen, some of them make attempts to defy patriarchal structures around them in small but significant ways – Ruba’s mother by being courageous enough to follow her heart and leave a marriage and her cousin by helping Ruba despite her mother-in-law’s objections.

Another interesting thing is that despite Topu being Prince Charming, his character was given depth by not making him entirely selfless and sacrificial. Topu’s expectations were conveyed to the audience in a subtle but effective manner, using scenes like his outrage in the forest after Ruba backs out of having sex with him (though sex was never mentioned, only alluded to), as well as the ever-awkward buying condoms at a chemist shop (an entirely silent and secretive transaction, btw).

Ruba’s character in the film is shown to be determined, independent and tenacious even while she struggles with the oppressive realities of being a woman under patriarchy. One of the focal points of the movie is her strained relationship with her mother (who passes away, leaving no possibility of redemption or reconciliation ). The film uses an interesting technique of showing Ruba’s internal demons manifesting as younger versions of herself, hypothesized to be metaphors for her id (6-year-old Ruba), ego (present Ruba), and superego (13-year-old Ruba) as she battles over her feelings for Topu and consequently her feelings of resentment for her mother. Though her relationship with her mother is significant to Ruba’s evolution as a character, very little is shown of her mother and her motivations. Despite trying to give Ruba some semblance of closure with her mother at the end, the film falls short in creating multiple well-written women to enhance the story and the emotional connection to the characters.

We’ve also had the pleasure of having Raidah of Raidahcal on this episode. She does wonderful work addressing contemporary feminist issues in Dhaka, Bangladesh. While we all had different takes on the movie, it was wonderful to have Raidah’s unique insights and perspectives. Be sure to check her out. We’ve also had the pleasure of collaborating with her on her podcast Raidahcal in an episode exploring feminist economics – we would love for you to check it out as well!

She also asked us a question that made us pause a bit: Why are men given passes for not portraying women's realities accurately just because they are creating sophisticated art?

And this made us realize that there is a very thin line between centering a woman's perspective in a film, versus presenting an intrusively voyeuristic gaze to watch her struggle. Ultimately if the author of the art is not able to distinguish the two for everyone watching the movie, is all that nuance pointless? This ambiguity within the film became more clear to us as we left our own echo chambers and were faced with a wonderfully challenging guest and the realization that the film is sometimes as good as the viewer wants it to be.

Even on our Sauce Meter, this film fared better than some of our previous takes. Here’s a breakdown of our scores.

1. Is there at least one character who adds a nuanced representation of a diverse South Asian identity, without stereotyping and tokenization?

Ruba, the protagonist of the film is a complex, well-rounded character and a woman – the film also uses an unfamiliar perspective by centering the story around the experiences of a woman vs a man (which is considered the default) – but she is one of the few non-male characters that get significant screen time, so not full points.

0.5

2. Are the primary characters (especially women and marginalized characters) portrayed with agency, individuality, and motivation?

Despite Ruba being limited by the sexist nature of the social structures around her – notably her struggle to find housing and employment as a single woman, she is shown to have agency and individual motivation – she is also shown to want autonomy and finds ways to assert herself despite inhibiting circumstances.

0.75

3. Are women and marginalized characters shown to be cognizant of their identities and how they exist within the social context?

Taking half a point off because there are limited representations of women and other marginalized characters, but the glimpses we get into other women apart from Ruba all seem to be painfully aware of how their choices and abilities are limited by oppressive patriarchal structures. Notably, her cousin despite having limited control over her life and household still tries to help Ruba, and Ruba herself has several moments where she points to the tribulations of being a woman in society.

0.5

4. Do the women and marginalized characters have meaningful relationships with each other?

While the women’s relationships with each other are not given a lot of screen time, they remain focal plot points. In particular, Ruba’s relationship with her mother is instrumental in the evolution of Ruba’s character and arguably even her liberation, however, the movie does not do these relationships complete justice and dedicates very little time to other women or marginalized characters in the movie.

0.25

5. Does it challenge any flawed notions upheld by capitalism, patriarchy, and the caste system?

The movie successfully subverts stereotypical representations of women and even defies traditional ideas of marriage and power dynamics between men and women and for that, it gets a full point!

TOTAL SCORE ON THE SAUCE METER: 3/5

What did you think of our rating of Third Person Singular Number? Did we reach too hard? Let us know!

- Usha and Rekha

Listen Now

#Season 1

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a-student-out-of-time · 4 years ago

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NEW ARC HYPE How’s the Kasugano Krew gonna deal with Toko? GJ was only ever pacified because of Byakuya, but I doubt you can get him to cooperate in this timeline. Having her befriend Komaru could work, but that’s risky because you guys don’t know how she’d react to meeting a serial killer outside the circumstances of post-tragedy Towa City (probably not well). I think a good first move is just to befriend her yourselves and “accidentally” trigger GJ’s transformation so you can blackmail her.

The most recent killing took place in the parking structure of an apartment building in the Chuo Ward of Saitama yesterday. Time of death is estimated around 7-10 PM.

Cause of death was indeed multiple stab wounds, and the phrase “Bloodbath Fever” was found written on the wall.

Damn...the kid was only 14. And Syo turned out to be one of the heroes during the Tragedy?

It’s complicated. Basically, during the Killing Game-

Actually, would it be alright if I explained? I have been thoroughly invested in this case!

Huh? O-Oh, yeah, sure. Go right ahead.

Alright, I shall start from the beginning. You see, the Hope’s Peak library possesses a reading room with many classified documents, including cold case files. I believe it was to help aspiring Ultimates whose talents were in crime investigation. I myself have examined many of them, including the one on Genocider Syo.

“Syo’s modus operandi is targeting young men, typically on weekdays at night or on holidays, primarily in the afternoon. The method of killing always involves fatal stab wounds with a custom-designed pair of scissors, followed by the infamous message being written in the victim’s own blood on the wall. There has never been a deviation from this pattern among any of Syo’s now 87 victims.”

It’s just like Yoshikage Kira and his obsession with hands...

But what is more, the method of killing also involves the victim being suspended by their wrists with these scissors. That information, however, has been kept entirely within police circles and the Academy. No one in the media, no one online, and no one outside of our group besides the killer themselves has this knowledge.

And among profiling results, such as lingering at the crime scene or the lack of eyewitnesses, it has been suggested that Genocider Syo may suffer from Dissociative Identity Disorder.

That sounds like a rather ableist claim.

Yeah, but the thing is...they’re right. Syo does have a split personality.

Her real name is Fukawa Toko.

Wait, you mean that famous author girl?

Yep, that’s the one. Whenever she falls unconscious, sneezes, or experiences an electrical shock, she switches personalities.

Ironically, she’s also terrified of blood.

Okay, but how’d the Hope’s Peak survivors get Syo to work with them?

They didn’t. She decided to work with them out of...I’d say love, but it’s more like obsession with Togami Byakuya.

She’s a...very perverse person, and made it no secret after they found out about her. According to Syo, they share general knowledge and emotions, but not memory.

Which isn’t that crazy. DID cases actually do involve the body treating different identities as separate: one can be right-handed and the other left, they can have variations in their eyesight that are detectable by ophthalmologists, and one can even be allergic to something another isn’t.

But cases like Syo’s are anomalies among an already rare condition. I hope I don’t need to tell you all that the vast majority of people with mental health issues don’t grow up to be violent or criminals.

Thank you.

Well, from what I know, Fukawa’s life was a unique kind of hell. She was abused all the time, by her family and by her classmates. She didn’t have any close friends, she didn’t even thank anyone until she met Naegi’s sister.

Wait, she met Naegi-chan?!

Yeah, one of the things the despairs did was imprison everyone’s closest friend or relative in Towa City and hold them hostage. A future motive would’ve been to commit murder before one of them was killed or before they were all forced to kill each other too. I don’t remember what the details were, since it never got that far. They were stuck in Towa city for 18 months before Future Foundation showed up to save them.

That’s...actually where the kids got involved too. They started their own game where they hunted down the captives while they were destroying the city. Only two of them died though.

Hold on, didn’t you say Fukawa-san had no friends? Who’d they pick for her hostage?

She, uh...has a pet stink bug. That’s her only friend.

...Oh.

But yeah, at that point, Syo was working with Future Foundation. She wasn’t a full member yet, just that she had to be kept on a short leash. No more killing people, just Monokumas. And it was thanks to Naegi Komaru that they managed to put a...not a stop, but more of a damper on the carnage in Towa City.

Syo was in love with Togami and Naegi became her first friend. But we can’t exactly bring those two here.

Yeah...probably best we keep Togami-sama away from our group, just in case.

We at least have a general idea of where she is, and we’ve got at least three months before we need to save Sasaki-san. The good news is that, if this goes off without a hitch, it might get the police to trust us a bit more.

#danganronpa #sdr2 #danganronpa 2 #dra #danganronpa another #sdra2 #super danganronpa another 2 #hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #kyoji nakamura #emma magorobi #nikei yomiuri #iroha nijiue #akane taira #sonia nevermind #a student out of time #DR #equinox arc #Anonymous

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vaguely-concerned · 5 years ago

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Some more mass effect andromeda thinky thoughts as I run around heleus getting some achievements!

- the murderous angaran ai is genuinely so fucking funny. “How are you feeling here on Aya?” “I hope you die” “Is there anything we could do to make you more comfortable?” “BURY THIS PLANET UNDER FIRE AND ASH” “o.oookay. Goodbye then.” “I HATE you.”

- I hope I never become irresistibly moved to write mass effect andromeda fic b/c there really is no other description for a good 70% of the expressions reyes makes than :> and how could one capture that in words

- as mentioned I’ve been doing a bit of achievement hunting and in the process I’ve been switching up a lot of gameplay stuff from how I handled it the first few times around and let me tell you it’s baller as fuuuuuuuuuck -- it just looks so awesome and is so satisfying between the maneuverability of the jetpack and biotic charge and the effects. special shoutout to what happens if you biotic charge a frozen victim enemy and the biotic pull/push combination. (throwing people around like ragdolls is actually so much fun I’ve kept doing it even after I unlocked the achievement lol)

- lol lol when you get meridian online there’s the montage of every planet coming back to life, right? well the one on kadara is from inside kralla’s song, with umi looking out at everything that’s happening. and all I can imagine is her jaded-ass voice going ‘what the fUCK did that asshole kid do now I only just cleaned up after the bar brawl he started with his krogan grandpa and now he’s rearranging the entire fucking planet right from under us goddess I need a drink’

- the implication that reyes ‘cards so close to my chest you won’t even know I’m playing’ vidal just does not shut up about how amazing ryder is to anyone who’ll listen gives me so much life. when you try to be mysterious and laidback but the human pathfinder is so fucking cute tho Y____Y (also go watch his scenes if you’re being standoffish with him the entire time -- he clearly wants ryder to like him so much right from the beginning, he’s doing so much work to no avail and I feel sort of bad for how funny I find it haha. interesting that it really does seem to be an emotional thing as well as y’know the practical/tactical benefits of having the pathfinder on his side. methinks the charlatan might be a bit lonely there behind all his masks lol)

I think this is why I’m willing to give him some benefit of the doubt too, despite all the cloak and dagger stuff -- he’s so immediately drawn to ryder, who you can never make a bad person, really. something in him must respond to that, if potentially only in the ‘attracted to traits I do not possess myself’ way hahaha

- I love sam. so so much. some of the open world implementation is still grating (yes sam. yes I know I can mine this area for resources through my mining interface. we’ve been doing this for a hundred hours sam. you’ve been right here with me the entire time sam. please sam), but he’s SUCH a good and I’d argue underutilized concept (emotionally at least) and the best boy. the fact that he can get SARCASTIC on you fsdhfjsadh he’s growing and learning! he’s doing so from inside your brain which is kind of unsettling but also SO COOL! there’s something about that level of intimacy, of always knowing there will be someone there with you in your head that is super interesting and deserves to be examined more fully -- both how it could be comforting and how it’s r e a l l y not how people or ai are generally designed to work lol.

he also gives us a unique link with our dad and I wonder if the writers would have explored that in more depth if there’d been more development time -- it practically SCREAMS out an invitation to get to play/see things from alec’s POV in short bursts, like the memories you unlock except you could go through playing it as him since sam is common to both of us. (see my ‘our dad comes back through either kett or remnant nonsense in the sequel and we need to find some way to connect with him’ idea. it would be. amazing. listen alec already looked at the ethical guidelines involved in creating ai and went ‘huh interesting ideas but not for me thanks!’, don’t tell me he wouldn’t have left some loophole in so this could happen)

- reyes literally says ‘the cavalry’s here’ when we get to meridian and I for one love him more than words can express (he also asks us if we’re okay in sort of a sweet/worried way right before we get to the control room. aw buddy)

- like we don’t think of them like that because we’re in control of them and see all the stumbles and awkwardness and how young they are all the time, but damn the ryder twins must look like something else to everyone in andromeda haha. they literally stride around like demigods restoring entire planets. on voeld spring non-metaphorically follows in their footsteps. shit dude if we’re talking realpolitik here the angara must feel p r e t t y nervous about this -- there’s no one saying they can’t turn off the vaults as easily as they turned them on. I hope we get them somehow teaching the angara how to do it too, on a smaller scale at least, as a show of good faith or something in a sequel, because that power imbalance is disconcerting

- I’m glad sam and I have such similar priorities whenever we’re on kadara. ‘maybe mr vidal would know. perhaps we should ask mr vidal about this. mr vidal said something relating to this pathfinder maybe we should speak to him’ . yeah sam i know the feeling, same (it does undeniably read as sam having a bit of a crush which is. hilarious?)

- the fact that alec ryder thought ellen responded to his bad boy act in any way when what really charmed her was that he was a great big nerd <3 it’s kind of nice to see a fictional marriage that seems to have just been. nice and stable and chill? just two intellectual equals who like and respect each other very much and not a lot of drama until alec went full alec and started developing rogue ai instead of watching his wife die lol. again I would love for the sequel to involve ellen finally waking up and being like ‘death? trying to claim MY husband? I do not think so, I can die he can’t he’s not leaving me behind’ and helping out and you realize that the reason they were soulmates was that under the relatively rational and unemotional surface they’re both, at heart, batshit crazy mad scientists who are insanely devoted to each other. imagine it tho! the people of andromeda realize alec ryder is back from the dead somehow and doing some Shit out there, they put a ton of resources into curing ellen’s disease because their best shot is something to do with the implants she made, hey presto we’ve got all ryders on the board and in play.

- just want to make it clear that I’m still sad about avitus rix and hope he’s having a good day

- do you think ryder ever asks sam to read something to him ‘aloud’ in his head if he’s anxious and can’t sleep. or just to talk at him about something boring until he nods off. again the possibilities inherent in the concept!!! he has someone who’s closer to him than any other person could be, what’s that like?

- *me sticking to my sidewinder pistol the whole playthrough even though it’s laughably inefficient* I just wanna feel like a cowboy bioware please work with me here

- the male ryder voice actor has such amazing comedic timing, there’s a lot of reaction stuff out in the field he absolutely nails. I enjoy the female voice too and I like how much emotion she manages to convey towards the end of the game especially, but there’s a casual comedy in male ryder’s voice that can’t be beat. (well, it’s not hawke levels, but then nothing ever is, that’s too much to ask)

- I love vorn and kesh so much. nerd krogans unite & make out

- I still want to sit peebee down and have a long serious talk with her about emotional abuse, maybe give her a hug :( fuck kalinda

- this game does not get enough credit for how stunningly beautiful it is, it all got buried under criticism about the animations and it’s a fucking shame. the last few vaults you go through are just mindboggling in scale and visual uh striking-ness. it makes me so sad to think there won’t be any more of it D:

- I really like this mainly casual + logical dialogue options ryder I’ve found; it makes him sound like a younger and more irreverent version of his father, but also softer and less closed off and much more willing to show affection for his family especially.

- i wonder if different people’s individual SAMs will take on a certain tone/unique pattern when they’ve coexisted long enough. have I mentioned. how much I want a sequel to this game

- one last reyes note because don’t look at me okay -- I wonder how much we’re meant to read into ‘being honorable never got me anywhere’. on the one hand I’m fully prepared to believe he’s never even tried doing anything the honorable way in his entire life lol but on the other there’s also some interesting potential in the interplay of that sentence and ‘to be someone’. (there seems to be a deep fear in him both of powerlessness and of being truly seen/recognized -- he equates secrecy with safety pretty explicitly -- which seems... telling? of what I don’t know but telling all the same hahaha) like he might be saying he’s tried doing things the ‘right’ way and it didn’t work and the price was too high, so he just went for this instead with the ends low-key justifying the means. hmmm. :Ia (this is what happens when I get Attached to a character with like an hour of screentime my friends, and I’m already primed to give my entire heart away at the sound of nicholas boulton’s voice)

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #I'm sorry about this my brain just won't shut up about this suddenly so here we go #reyes vidal #meta

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cardentist · 5 years ago

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the transmisandry “debate” and the attitude towards trans men is so transparently a retreading of literally every exclusionary movement of the last few decades and Yet it’s being perpetrated and tolerated by what otherwise should be inclusionist spaces because it’s once again being pointed at a more “acceptable” target

like, on some level I understand the gut reaction, the term itself is associated with a lot of negativity and “mens rights activists” and the like have made the idea of men specifically facing oppression for being men at best laughable and at worst a red flag for violent misogyny. it’s one of those things that a lot of people in left leaning spaces take for granted as being true across the board, something they don’t need to think about or examine. and to be clear “they” included me for quite some time, I do understand where the feeling comes from

but it’s not about oppression for being men, it’s oppression for being trans men, it’s transmisandry for the same reason that transmisogyny is transmisogyny. it’s a term specifically meant to cast a net over the broad array of experiences that people have specifically as trans men to give them an outlet to both examine their experiences in relation to the wider community of trans men and to specifically seek and give reassurance and solidarity to each other.

the bigger problem with this argument is that many people will resort to denying what I’ve just said in order to reject the proposed term, whether it’s something they’d actually believe once they examined the situation in earnest or not. because people act as though acknowledging that trans men face oppression for being trans men will open up the floodgates leading to cis straight white men convincing people that they’re oppressed for being men. so trans men Can’t be oppressed for being trans men because trans men are men and men aren’t oppressed.

so leading from this line of thought what you’ll generally see is the argument that what trans men experience is “just” transphobia, and if you press the issue or bring up a personal example you’ll almost as commonly get that anything else is “just” “misdirected” misogyny. and just, there’s so So much to unpack there that I’m almost tempted to just leave it where it is, but ignoring the issue won’t make it go away and I wouldn’t be writing this post if I didn’t want the issue to change.

the point with, I think, the least baggage is one that I’ve already touched upon, that being that the experiences of trans men and trans women are just naturally going to be different from each other and it’s useful for both parties to have language to talk specifically about their experiences, in the same way that it’s useful to examine the differences between the experiences of binary and nonbinary trans people. it doesn’t matter who you think has it “worse” because this isn’t a competition to see who’s oppressed enough to Deserve having their experiences heard. the urge for trans men to make a term to describe their experiences isn’t some way to try to argue that they’re more oppressed, it’s born from the inherent need to be understood and to see that other people exist in the way that you have. it’s the solidarity that brought the trans community together in the first place

a point leading off of that with probably significantly more baggage is the idea that queer and lgbt+ spaces are a contest to measure your oppression in the first place. don’t get me wrong, it Is useful to recognize different axis’ of oppression, to recognize larger patterns of violence faced by specific groups of people at a disproportionate rate. it helps us, as an entire community, identify the most vulnerable groups of people so we can lean into helping them on both a systemic and individual level, so we can see whose voices need to be boosted so they can be heard both in and out of the community. and moreover having these numbers and experiences together can help people outside of the community see that it’s is a problem as well.

however, the issue comes in when perceived theoretical oppression is used as a social capital to decide who is and is not allowed to be heard. I’m sure I’ve already lost the ace exclusionists ages ago by now, so that’s a perfect example. at it’s most extreme ace exclusionism is blatant bigotry and hatred justified with the excuse that they’re protecting the queer and lgbt+ community from privileged invaders, and even when in it’s milder form ace exclusionism is powered by the idea that asexual people don’t face oppression. marginalized people are denied resources, solidarity, safe spaces, and voices because they’re painted as not being oppressed or not being oppressed Enough. this wouldn’t be able to happen if your worth as a member of the lgbt+ community wasn’t measured by how oppressed your particular minority group is, if it didn’t have the sway that it has. creating a power structure in any way at all leaves people with the ability to exploit that structure, and the specific one that’s emerged within the queer community and leftist spaces in general allows people to exploit it while hiding it as moral, while hiding that they’re causing any pain at all. it’s the same frame of mind that’s made bullying cool in activist spaces

another reason why this hierarchy tends to fail on an individual level is, of course, that the level of oppression that an entire group faces does not dictate someone’s lived experiences, which is an idea that goes both ways. the argument over whether or not asexuals are oppressed is ultimately a meaningless distraction from the lived experiences of asexual people. it is a Fact that asexuals face higher levels of rape and sexual assault than straight people, you can deny that what they’re facing counts as oppression specifically but what does that matter? there are people who are suffering and that suffering can be lessened by allowing those people into our community, shouldn’t that be enough? likewise, comparing the suffering of individual people as if they were the same as the suffering of their respective groups combined is absolutely absurd. someone who is murdered for being a trans man isn’t less dead than someone who was murdered for being a trans woman. a trans woman isn’t Guaranteed to have lived a harder life than any and every other trans man just because of a difference in statistics, and the same can be said for literally every other member of the lgbt+ and queer communities. other community members aren’t concepts, they aren’t numbers, they’re people with unique lives and sorrows and joy. neither you or I or anyone else is the culmination of our respective or joint communities and some people need to learn how to act like it.

again, there is Meaning in seeing how our oppression is different, it’s not inherently wrong, but creating a framework where it can be used to paint a group of people as both lesser within the community and less deserving of help is creating a framework that can more than readily be abused. and because it positions the abused as privileged it creates a situation where the abuser can justify it to themselves. you use another minority as an outlet for the pain you feel under the weight of the same system that hurts them while denying their pain.

but to pull the conversation back to trans men specifically, lets examine lived experiences for a while longer. “misdirected misogyny” and “just misogyny” are both employed commonly in exclusionist spaces to deny that either someone’s oppression happened to them for the reason they say it did or to deny that their oppression is their own, and often times it’s both. for instance, the claim that ‘asexual people may face higher rates of sexual assault but That’s just because of misogyny (and/or misdirected homophobia)’ is used to deny that what asexual people face is oppression for being asexual. if you can’t deny that an assault victim was assaulted without either violating your own moral code or the moral code of the community you’ve surrounded yourself with then denying the cause of their assault is a more socially acceptable way of depriving them of the resources they need to address that assault. their pain wasn’t their own, it belongs to someone else, someone who’s Really oppressed.

in the context of trans men the argument is, of course, that they’re men. if they just so happen to face misogyny then it’s because they were mistakenly perceived as women. this works a convenient socially acceptable way to deny the lived experiences of a group you want to silence both in the ways that I’ve already illustrated And with the added bonus woke points of doing so while affirming someone’s gender identity in the process.

again, I want to reiterate, even if it were objectively true that all trans men face transphobia and misogyny totally separately, like a picky toddler that doesn’t want their peas anywhere near their mashed potatoes, that is ultimately an insufficient framework when talking about individual lives. there’s literally nothing wrong with trans men wanting to talk about their lived experiences with other trans men in the context of them Being trans men. being black isn’t inherently a part of the trans experience but being black Does ultimately affect your experiences as a trans person and how they impact you and it’s meaningful to discuss the intersection of those two experiences on an individual level.

but it just, Isn’t true. this shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone, but trans men were born in bodies that are perceived as being women, misogyny is a Feature to the experiences of trans men inherently. even trans men who are fully transitioned, have full surgery, have all their papers worked out, completely pass, move to a new state and changed their name, and have zero contact with anyone who ever knew them before or during their transition still lived a significant portion of their lives under a system that was misogynistic against them. of course there’s still a spectrum of personal experiences with it, just like there are with cis women and trans women, but to present the misogyny that trans men face as “accidental” is just absurd. and moreover, most trans men Aren’t the hypothetical Perfect Passing Pete. I’ve identified as trans for seven years now and I frankly don’t have the resources to even begin thinking about transitioning and won’t for what’s looking to be indefinitely, I don’t even begin to come within the ballpark of passing and it Sure Does Show. misogyny is just as present in my life as it would be for a cis woman but the difference is that I’m not supposed to talk about it. and even barring That there are transitioned trans men who face misogyny specifically because they are trans men, before during and after transition. you could argue that that’s “just” transphobia but you could do the same for transmisogyny. if we can acknowledge that trans women have experiences that specifically come from their status as women who can be wrongly perceived as men then we should all be able to acknowledge that trans men have experiences that specifically come from their status as men who can be wrongly perceived as women and that both the similarities and differences between these experiences are worth talking about.

another issue with painting it as “just” misogyny that ties pretty heavily into what I was just talking about is the fact that men don’t have the same access to spaces meant to talk about misogyny that women do. again, this is something that makes sense on a gut level, it’s not like cis men are being catcalled while walking to 7/11. but like, a lot of trans men are. misogyny is a normal facet in the lives of trans men but male voices are perceived as being invaders in spaces meant to talk about misogyny, both in and out of trans specific spaces and conversations

trans men lose a solidarity with women that they do not gain with men. there’s a certain pain and othering that comes with intimately identifying with the experiences of a group of people while being denied that those experiences are yours, of being treated the same way for the same reason but at once being aware that the comfort and understanding being extended isn’t For you and feeling like you’re cheating some part of your sense of self by identifying with it.

part of that is just the growing pains of getting used to existing as a trans person, but that in and of itself doesn’t mean that we aren’t allowed to find a solution. if trans men can’t, aren’t allowed, or don’t want to speak about their experiences in women’s spaces then why not allow them to talk about their experiences together? the fact that we even have to argue over whether or not trans men Deserve to talk about their experiences is sad enough in it’s own right, but even sadder is inclusionists, people who should frankly know better at this point, refusing to stand up for trans men because someone managed to word blatant bigotry in an acceptable way Once Again.

#discourse #transphobia #trans men #transmisandry #inclusionism #long post #hi yes hello everything I say is exactly two ideas in a trench coat

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bodyswapmischief · 5 years ago

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Tales of the Sculptor: Origins

If you passed me on the street, you'd probably not remember who I was. Not because I would make you forget, but because I look so average. I'm not attractive or ugly. I'm not skinny, buff, or fat. I'm some where in between. I wasn't gifted with insane intellectual, creative, or athletic abilities. I was just another face in the crowd.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't want to be special and I knew I could have it much worse. But, everything change once I developed my abilities. You see, I can change another person's body, but never my own. Bodies becomes clay in my hands and I transform them. I've always tried to use these powers for good. I have help people gain or regain control over their lives. But, every time there is a consequence. The person I transformed gets a part of their personality changed. This has lead to some interesting situations, but also some terrible problems.

In my travels, I have meet others like me. People who have been gifted with transformation and shifting abilities. Whether they be mad scientist, magic users, cursed, or genetically gifted, these individuals all had a unique way of using their powers. Although there has been many people who also used their powers for good, I have witnessed many evil acts done by some with these abilities. And, Now I think I have committed one these horrible acts. I think I have made a mistake.

In these last days, I can only reflect on my journey and how I ended up here. I can only hope who ever reads this collection can find some understanding to what I did and why I did it. So, I guess now it's time to start from the beginning. How I discovered my power and the first person I changed, my origin story.

I discovered these abilities, when I was 18. I had just graduated high school, and decided not to immediately go to college. I had no plans for my life, so wasting money going to college without having a goal seemed like a bad idea. Instead, I went to work and looked for inspiration in the real world. I was free to explore who I was ... well almost. As fate would have it, someone else decided to not seek the college route. My bully, Bruce Mathews, throughout my whole educational life.

In high school, Bruce was the quarterback of the high school football team. He was insanely attractive. His dark hair was perfectly styled. His jawline was chiseled perfectly. His blue eyes stared right into your soul. You could say, I was attracted to him. I mean who wasn't. But he made everyday a living hell. And those feelings of love turn to fear, sadness, and confusion.

To the outside world, he was mister perfect. The whole school was on his side. His body was ripped from his sports workouts. His arms popped with muscle. His legs where made of pure power. His chest looked good, as his pecs strained against his shirt. He was the only person at the school with an 8 pack. He had the body of a god. The girls loved him. The guys wanted to be him. And, the staff/teachers made sure he was taken care of.

He had the power to make or break your social life. If he hated you, you would become an outcast. Name calling and verbal put downs where very common to these poor victims. But, I had it the worst. I was his number one target. As a result, I got the honor of also getting my ass kicked, regularly, by him and the rest of the football team. This ugly side of him ended up getting the better of him, when he decided to drink and drive. He got into a car accident by swerving into a store, in the middle of the night. As a result, he lost his scholarship, got rejected from his college, spent some time in jail, and was indebted into paying for the damages. So ... yeah karma got him. But, it didn't help me. Because now he was still around and even angrier.

I was walking back home, through some old railroad tracks. When I saw Bruce sitting on a log and drinking from a bottle. I quickly looked away from him and start walking past him. But, he got up and walked to me. He was wearing a muscle shirt and his muscular arms were on full display. His chest was rock hard. And, the tight muscle shirt outlined his abs. He grabbed me and pulled me up to his face. His breath smelled like alcohol.

"What the fuck you looking at fag!" He yelled as he pushed me to the floor. He then got on top of me and used his whole weight to pin me down. With the weight of the muscled jock on me it was becoming harder to breathe. With the flexing of his arms, he began punching me. The first few hit my chest and arms. Immediately, I felt an intense pain. And, I didn't know how much more I could have took. Then out of nowhere one hit my face and my eye sight went black for a second. I was completely left dazed. (He is going to kill) I thought to myself.

With a surge of adrenaline, I was able to free my arms. As, he aimed to punch me again, I grabbed his arm. I tried to talk to him, but only disoriented mumbling noises come out of my mouth. Meanwhile he kept drunkenly cursing at me. I felt myself losing the tug of war with his arm, as one of my hands braced his forearm and my other hand cupped his bicep. Suddenly, I felt less force being used to pull away from me. And his rock hard arms start to feel soft and squishy. Suddenly his whole arm slipped out of my grasp.

We both look at his arm, now it was stick thin. The mountain-like bicep was gone. The sturdy forearm was weak a fragile. Even his hand became smaller. It looked deformed on the rest of his big muscular body. "What the fuck did you do ... to me?" He yelled and then he decided to punch me with his other arm. Again, I grabbed it. And another tug of war occurred, with the same results and sensations.

He got off me and stumbled to the ground. I used that as my chance to flee. But, I looked back to see his eye turning red, with tears, as he examined his new arms. Still in a drunken haze of confusion. He saw me running away. He struggled to lift up his heavy body with his weak arms, so he yelled. "Come back you gotta fix this." But, I kept running. Reaching my house, I was extremely tired and instantly fell asleep.

I woke up the next day, confused if yesterdays events even occurred. But, I saw the bruises on my face on body. (Maybe I had some weird concussion induced dream) I thought to myself. My parents already left for work. I got dressed and made my way downstairs. When I heard a knock at the door. I was shocked to see Bruce standing in front of me. His muscular body still towering over me. However, this time he didn't have a form fitting shirt on. Instead, he was wearing an over sized sweater.

He weakly grabbed me by the collar. "Nobody is here right." He whispered. I just nodded yes. Then he tried to push me inside, but he failed to even move me an inch. Instead, I just walked back into the house, allowing him to follow me. He sighed and closed the door, as he followed me inside. I was just speechless and confused. Then he looked me straight in the eye and said "You gotta help me." He started taking off his sweater. Underneath he was shirtless. His massive pecs and 8 pack were the first things to come out. Then. I realized the truth once I saw his tiny arms. (It wasn't a dream).

"You gotta change me ... you gotta help me." He begged. I stood their in disbelief. "I don't even know what I did." I replied. "Look you little shit. I might not have my arms. But, I still have my legs, chest, and abs. If you don't help me, I'm going kick your ass." He yelled. With his small arms he grabbed my hands and weakly pressed them against his body. Scared my instincts took over. Not wanting him to kick my ass and wanting to fix what I did to him, I slid my hands to his arms. Again they felt soft, but with each heart beat they pumped up with muscle. Suddenly, he pushed me away.

"What the fuck are you doing." He yelled. "I want you to drain me from my muscles, not give them back." "What!?" I gasped in absolute shock. "Why?" "I realized something after, I sobered up and calmed down, yesterday. I hate my body. I always have. I hate being a big strong muscle jock." He said with complete honesty, while I stood there with my mouth open in shock. "I'm gay by the way. No one knows. Everyone excepts me to be this tough guy. But, I want to be small. I want a big strong man to take care of me. The truth is I had a crush on you in school. But, I hated that fact. So, I took it out by kicking your ass. By making you the monster." His voice now pained with guilt and regret. "Truth is ... I wanna be a twink" he shook his head and laughed "And now you can help ... you can change me. I already ruined this life. Turn me into a completely different person, so I can start again."

I looked at him. My bully confessing everything to me. All the things he did to me, why would I help him? But, my moral compass took the best of me. And , I placed my hands on his rock hard body. Instantly muscle evaporated off his body. His thick arms became sticks again. His chest flattened out, as I rubbed my hands on them. His abs were washed away with one brush of my hands. I continued rubbing different parts of his body. As these parts became clay in my hands, they started to shrink and become less defined. Less muscular. Smaller. Suddenly he started shrinking, until he was smaller then me. I made some changes to his face, but for the most part kept it the same. My hands slipped as I accidentally touched his crotch, shrinking his dick and balls as a result. He only moaned out in pleasure. His transformation was done as he cummed, all over the floor. His eyes glazed over.

"I'm sooo ... sorry for everything I put you through." He said to me. His voice was softer and lost any ounce of toughness. "I hope you can forgive me" he continued. Any presence of power left him. Now in front of me was a timid little twink. I understood what happened. I changed him and now his personality shifted. "Um ... now that your the big one. I mean you don't have to. But, since I have had a crush on you. And, I'd like to repay you. Can you ... um please... um fuck me." He shyly said, his checks becoming red.

I just nodded. As we embraced each other. Slowly making out. My body wrapped around his smaller frame. He adjust to suck my dick. And, I chuckled in disbelief, as my ex bully is now the little weak one who just wants to please me. I lift him up on the bed. With erotic thoughts of his transformation in my head, I shoved my hard on into his tight little ass. We both climaxed and laid next to each other, catching our breath.

He leaned over and kissed me. "Thank You." He said. He took my clothes and walked out of my home. They were still to big for him, but they fit better than his old ones. I never heard from him again. But, I heard he made his way to California to live the best off his twink life.

That was my first time having sex and the first use of my power. It is also, only, the first part of my story.

#male #body #swap #mischief #transformation #tf #stories #muscle #theft #twink #TotS #One Life

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mw-moriearty · 4 years ago

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Superman III is an Anti-Capitalist Parable and Way Ahead of its Time

No seriously. Here’s the skinny.

Superman III came out in ‘83 and was directed by Richard Lester, who also directed the markedly inferior theatrical cut of Superman II three years earlier. Lester had a very different approach to the Superman series than his predecessor, Richard Donner: he insisted, ostensibly at the studio’s urging, on taking the series in a more camp comedy direction rather than the Old Hollywood epic movie tone Donner brought to the table. It makes sense, then, that audiences would push back against the goofier, lower-stakes tone of III. They were used to the (comparatively) operatic tone of the original Superman and, to a lesser extent, its sequel.

Superman III was a financial success, but it was negatively received by audiences and by critics, a negative reception that helped send the follow-ups Supergirl and Superman IV: A Quest for Peace to the bottom of the trash heap (not that they needed much help).

But, unlike those two installments, Superman III, when watched today with an unbiased eye, holds up much better than its reputation would suggest. The emphasized comedic undertones don’t stand out so much in this era of light, bantery Marvel films.

And, what’s more, Superman III is probably one of the most plainly anti-capitalist superhero movies of all time. Its maybe not “woke,” but its pretty damn close.

At the core of the film, and perhaps its most controversial element, is the comic relief character played by comedian Richard Pryor. Pryor’s character in Superman III may not be the most nuanced character of color in film, but he is also certainly not the Jar Jar Binks minstrel clown some make him out to be. What he is, is a naturally-gifted computer programmer so brilliant that he is able to hack into a government weather-controlling satellite while completely blitzed and effortlessly design a supercomputer so sophisticated it gains self-awareness. It is obvious the only reason that he lives on unemployment and can’t keep a job rather than being the next Bill Gates and giving the millionaire villain orders is the deep institutional racism upon which capitalism is founded.

The film is well aware of this racism, highlighting it in ways both big and small. Pryor is blackmailed into serving the rich white Trump-esque antagonist, played by Robert Vaughn, after being forced by his ridiculously small paycheck to commit embezzlement (the only victim of which being Vaughn himself, who is so dripping with surplus wealth that he has an artificial ski slope on the roof of his skyscraper). Their first interaction is full of condescending microaggressions on Vaughn’s part, such as cringe-inducingly calling Pryor “my man” in a manner that brings to mind the dad in Get Out.

When Pryor travels to Smallville, Kansas later in the film, he is visibly aghast at how eerily lily-white the whole place is, particularly staring in horror at a trio of porcelain-tinted mannequins in a store window. I’m sure his discomfort would be echoed by many black men taking their first step in rural southern America. Later, to infiltrate one of the businesses that he plans to hack in the small town, Pryor wears one of the awful suits worn by the aforementioned dummies and puts on an affected “white voice” to earn the trust of the drunken redneck that watches the place at night, a fitting commentary on how black men and women are expected to homogenize and “act white” to be above suspicion in white America.

And what happens when Pryor convinces Vaughn to give him the resources to construct his incredible supercomputer? Why, Vaughn and his sister appropriate it for themselves and put its unique capabilities to nefarious ends, shutting Pryor out of any control of his baby and leaving him out in the cold.

Pryor is much more than a victim through all of this, however. I already mentioned how he took the initiative to bolster his paltry computer programmer’s paycheck by using a clever scheme to embezzle from his greedy millionaire boss. He also doesn’t let said boss kick him around, either. Though his circumstances leave him with little choice but to be a cohort in Vaughn’s schemes, when push comes to shove, he stands up for himself. He refuses to allow Vaughn’s order for complete control of the oil tankers to be irreversible, he fights for his fair cut of the loot when Vaughn starts profiting off of his brilliance, and in the end he stands by Superman against his bourgeoisie bosses. He even saves Superman’s life on multiple occasions, using both his computer smarts and eventually a fire ax to come to the big guy’s rescue.

Given that Pryor has at least as much screen time as Supes throughout the picture, one is left wondering, who’s the real hero here? Why, its the guy running around in the frilly pink tablecloth, of course!

And Pryor’s not the only example of a downtrodden minority not being allowed to live to their full potential in a white supremacist patriarchal capitalist society. Perhaps the most interesting character in the film is the villain’s girlfriend, who is initially presented as a vapid, gold-digging bimbo until we learn that this is all an act on her part and she actually is a computer-wise, philosophy-reading secret genius herself. She only plays the part of the brainless trophy girl because life has left her few other options. It is a very fun subversion of the typical villain-moll dynamic, and it is a shame we don’t get more of this character, though she like Pryor is ultimately disturbed by Vaughn’s increasingly villainous actions and bails on him in the end.

But lets talk about Vaughn’s villain, and how he’s emblematic of the film’s ideas on rich white privilege as a whole. This is a guy who is so used to getting everything he wants that he sics a freaking hurricane on Colombia just because the country is competing with him in the coffee export industry. If that ain’t capitalism at its finest. He even repeats the tired adage “it is not enough that I succeed, others must fail,” misattributing it to Genghis Khan like an idiot. I mean seriously, who does this sound like?

This is the guy who gives us probably the most immortal line from the whole movie.

And that’s only the tip of the white entitlement iceberg. There’s also the running joke of the old white couple who win the Daily Planet’s vacation lottery and get sent off to Colombia, where we are treated to the wife saying things like, “look dear, a native wedding!” Cut to the most conventional looking church wedding ever. After this parody of cultural voyeurism, we have the couple later threatening to SUE Daily Planet Editor-in-Chief Perry White because A HURRICANE RUINED THEIR VACATION. What a couple of Karens.

The whole film is about the struggle between the working class and the rich. I’ll paraphrase one of the Smallville locals who, after seeing the chaos caused by the gasoline shortage brought about by Vaughn’s forced oil monopoly, says “I don’t know what’s going on, but I guarantee you, someone’s getting rich off of it. Someone’s always getting rich off of it.”

Oh yeah, and Superman is in this movie too a little. There’s a plot wherein Vaughn tries to synthesize an artificial kryptonite in an effort to kill Superman and prevent him from foiling his dastardly deeds. But, this being a kryptonite forged in the capitalist machine, its a lazy, half-assed copy that doesn’t even work right (leading to the above line).

That doesn’t mean that the kryptonite has no effect, though. Indeed, the symptoms of this knockoff kryptonite are fascinatingly similar to the effects of living under the crushing wheels of the capitalist regime.

We actually see Superman, through this physical manifestation of the exertion of capitalist oppression, deteriorate into a selfish, depressed, bitter shadow of his usual self. As this happens, the colors of his costume subtly grown more dark, drab, and dingy. Superman becomes concerned only with doing what is best for himself without regard to anyone else, giving up the whole “saving people” thing and even letting himself be coerced by the moll into ripping a giant hole into an oil tanker in exchange for a little nookie (the subsequent disturbing image of a massive oil spill creeping across the surface of the ocean is maybe the film showing its hand a little bit). Many socialist and anarchist thinkers have raised the thought that this exact selfish mindset is the natural effect of being socialized in a capitalist society.

Let’s be clear, this isn’t just “evil Superman”. This is Superman so crushed by self-loathing and the futility of his actions that at the lowest point in his decline we see him looking like this:

Indeed, this sad, alcoholic Superman very deliberately mirrors another character in the film: the aforementioned drunken yokel, who is also the former star quarterback of Clark Kent’s high school graduating class. This is a character who found, after graduating, that his celebrity status in school translated to nothing in the adult world, leaving him woefully unprepared for a real life where he is a functional nobody. Cue binge-drinking and pining for the glory days.

This all culminates in the movie’s most iconic scene, wherein Superman crash-lands in a junkyard and splits into two separate individuals: the above Superdick, and plain old Clark Kent. They then proceed to beat the shit out of each other.

Obviously, we aren’t meant to read this scene as literal; it isn’t actually, physically happening. It is a clever visualization of the internal struggle between the character’s two halves: Clark and Superman.

In fact, this very conflict is the heart of Superman’s story throughout the picture. This is examined in the form of Clark’s re-kindled relationship with childhood sweetheart Lana Lang. After the always tragic will-they-won’t-they of Superman and Lois, Clark and Lana’s romance is refreshingly positive and healthy. The obvious reason for this is that, unlike Lois, Lana isn’t just interested in the Superman persona. She loves Clark for Clark. He can be himself around her. Indeed, any romantic incursions between Superman in costume and Lana are portrayed as downright toxic, as in the unsettlingly realistic scene where Superman, first beginning to feel the effects of the faux kryptonite, makes several forceful, sexually aggressive advances on Lana in her own home. The obvious fear and discomfort on Lana’s face during this scene is incredibly telling. She isn’t interested in an inhumanly privileged, aggressive thug in spandex. She likes Clark Kent, the regular guy.

So it is no accident that in this climactic junkyard scene, Clark comes to represent the character’s “good side” and Superman the “bad”. Because this is not simply a struggle between Superman’s good and bad halves, it is a struggle between Clark Kent, the spectacularly unspectacular working man, and Superman, the ridiculously naturally privileged enforcer of statist status quo. Proletariat vs. bourgeoisie. And Clark Kent, the proletariat revolutionary fighting his way out of the bourgeois Superdick’s corruption, wins.

Not that Superman then becomes a perfect champion of the working class for the rest of the film. He does defeat Vaughnald Trump and blow up the evil computer, but he also remains something of a parody of typical movie “white savior” figures. This is mostly clearly shown in the denouement where Superman, obviously thinking he is providing some great act of charity, drops Richard Pryor’s character off at a dirty coal pit far from his home and recommends him for an entry-level computer job there. Pryor understandably decides he’d rather not slave in a coal mine in the middle of nowhere for the rest of his life, and chooses instead to walk the nine miles to the nearest bus station. There is also the final scene where Superman (who in evil mode had straightened the Leaning Tower of Pisa earlier in the film in an extreme act of pettiness) returns to Italy and “fixes” the tower, smiling and waving in smug self-satisfaction at the locals below, oblivious to the poor souvenir salesman who has just finished making his setting up his new display of now-straight replica towers.

tl;dr, I think that Superman III deserves reevaluation not as the moment where the Superman franchise began its descent into crappery, but instead as a flawed but biting satire on privilege and capitalist corruption in America.

That’s my two cents.

#superman #superman 3 #richard donner #richard lester #christoper reeve #capitalism #blm #fuck capitalism #Donald Trump #richard pryor #movie review #blog post #white privilege #socialism #anarchy #my two cents #tldr

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ifsomeoneasksiwasnothere · 5 years ago

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Porcelain Walls [One-Shot]

Read this on → | Wattpad | AO3 | Spirit | Deviantart

Character Pairing: Candy Pop/Jason the toymaker

Word Count: 5705

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of murder, violence, and parent abuse.

Synopsis: A demonic colorful being, named Candy Pop, was stressed due to his repetitive routine. However, he was lucky that his tiredness was responsible for his encounter with someone who could distract him by their mysterious appearance and unstable temper, the toymaker.

A/N: Ok so, this is my very first story written in the English language that got actually complete, and I’m very excited to share it! I think that it’s important to say that I included a lot of my personal headcanons for these characters in the story.

If you think there are points to be improved, as long as you are respectful, criticism is welcome :D

(The cover was made by me.)

(Jason the toymaker and Amelie belongs to Krisantyl)

(Candy Pop belongs to DanceOfAngels)

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As the night falls, the lights which came from the windows were turned off one by one. It was the time when adults were back from their jobs, most of the young went to sleep, and the kids wrapped themselves in their covers shrinking in fear, afraid of the monsters under their bed or in their closet. Every child was terrified of the boogeyman, even if they were not so sure what or who exactly it was, they knew that it was bad, and wanted to damage them. The dark, mysterious monster who hunts those who simply want to have a good night of sleep, no matter which country you live in, there is always a myth of a scary creature that torment children during rest time.

Candy Pop, however, was a vibrant, appealing being, whose appearance would seem innocent at first sight. His clothes were as colorful as the fireworks of fourth of July, while his pink-colored eyes along with his ocean blue hair, lured the ones who were easily interested in his unique looks, although their fate was mostly being murdered by the deceitful, and colorful Jester.

You could say that his personality matches his dressing style, but it depends on his current mood that can vary in a brief time, going from gentle and kind to a furious train wreck in a matter of seconds. But, he was quite playful, and little did he care what people said or thought about him. What only could make Candy Pop truly delighted, was doing what he had always done: Sail his journey without a destination, making as much chaos and destruction as he can along his path. He was the real boogeyman, the one who would not let the poor children rest. It was told in his myth, but that not only did he terrified people before they slept, also inside their dreams, too. For him, it was much more fun, of course, since he was able to force them to live their worst nightmares, continuously, until they felt so weak and helpless that Candy Pop could consume their souls with ease. The soul of humans was his favorite dish, even though it wasn't necessary to torment them before consumption, the Jester desired to do so only for the satisfaction he got from it. He enjoyed watching the discomfort and fear in people's eyes due to his doing. Seeing them beg for mercy, as it only made their death slower and more painful, made him feel alive.

Candy Pop had to collect human's essence to survive, it was not superfluous, it was a need. He would teleport himself into people's dreams and scare them to death, therefore consuming their souls. However, being forced to do so for his health annoyed him deeply. Torturing them before getting the essence of their lives was enjoyable but it took him time and effort to create an efficient nightmare where the person would prefer taking their own lives rather than living that moment forever. He had to think, plan, and search for horror elements for every single one of his victims, just to make it as personal as he wanted it to be. Obviously, besides the fun he had to execute his planned nightmares, it was tiring. Nevertheless, feeling mentally exhausted as he was, he still needed his energy from souls to maintain his powers.

The jester's exhaustion made him distracted, as he teleported to the wrong reality that he was looking for. Unfortunately, lacking his usual strength, his mood was unstable, which was a mortal trap for anyone who dared to challenge his patience.

Adjusting his vision, as he analyzed his surroundings, he finds himself in some kind of workshop, full of all sorts of toys. His eyes dashed around curiously at the place, noticing the unusual combination of handcrafts. Ragdolls, stuffed toys, porcelain dolls, puppets, along with different versions of music boxes were seen on wooden shelves fixed on the walls. There were hundreds of human-sized dolls spread across the room, some of them with cloth covering their faces, others without legs, eyes, arms, or even with their mouths or eyes stitched up shut. Each of them seemed to have a unique characteristic that distinguishes them from the others, too specific for it to be unintentional.

The place seemed perfect for kids due to the number of toys, but to his surprise, he saw no children, only a tall man looking at him with a serious expression. But as soon as they made eye contact, he seemed to get angrier than before, his long ginger locks hiding half of his irritated look.

"This place is so weird," — Candy Pop said as he scanned the place further, pretending that he was alone in that room. Every eye that there was in that workshop, except for Candy Pop's and the ginger's, appeared artificial, yet they had a certain life in them as if those penetrating eyes were not made of glass. There was something off about them.

The taller male, who glared at the jester, looked slightly offended, but he insisted on keeping his stoic impression not wanting to make him so easily readable, even though a stranger simply appeared out of thin air in his workshop and dared insult the place he so dearly called home. The first thought that crossed his mind was to rip that playful smile away from his face, not letting the vibrant stranger say something so disrespectful ever again.

"Who are you, and what on earth are you doing here?" — The serious male retorted, still looking at Candy Pop with his piercing amber eyes.

By the strong grasp he had on a small piece of fabric plus his assertive posture, it was clear that he was impatient and demanded explanations from the Jester, which was fair in the position he was in.

His dominant attitude immediately interested the jester as he returned to observe the ginger male, and suddenly, he stopped smiling. That was rare to happen, it was not always that something, or someone, could make the colorful man lose his cheerful and but insane persona. No matter how harsh or uncomfortable the situation was, Candy Pop would always wear that annoying, jokingly grin that could drive others mad.

He stared intensity at the other's eyes, noticing how they were sweet colored like honey yet looked so fierce. Although their color seemed to get brighter, emotionless and more intimidating at every second that passed, as he still didn't answer his question. Nevertheless, the blue-haired could not care less about the danger since the simple thought of him having the chance of having someone trying to end his life made him jump on his tiptoes and beam in excitement. Candy Pop was still amazed by his appearance, his hair was long, dark crimson as blood, as well as an unusual black design under his left eye that emphasized his bottom eyelashes, which only made him even more intrigued. The red-haired man appeared charming but dominant, territorial and deadly dangerous.

"Oh, you said something?" — Candy Pop asked as he blinked, visibly distracted by his attractive looks.

Not pleased, the taller male shoved the fabric piece he was holding aggressively across the worktable in front of him, making the jester jump in his spot due to the sudden action, and the ginger breath through his nose impatiently.

"I asked you a question," — he said calmly, but with a slightly irritated tone, — "Who. The fuck. Are you? And what are you doing here?"

The short moment of silence after his ask was interrupted by himself, who at the moment preferred a short quick answer rather than a long thoughtful one. At that instant, some explanation had to be made or else there would be some serious consequences.

"Answer me. Now." He demanded, glaring intensively at Candy Pop.

"How am I supposed to respond if you won't even let me speak?" — asked Candy Pop in a fake innocent tone. — "Didn't your parents teach you that is very rude to interrupt others?"

As the ginger's nails scratched the wooden table's surface from anger, piercing the old material, the color of his eyes faded to a lifeless bright green. The jester has touched a nerve for sure, mentioning his parents was not a welcome idea. However, taking a quiet sigh, he was able to hold himself not to scream at the vibrant one.

"Spit it out," — the serious male said.

"Candy Pop is the name," — he finally responded, bowing dramatically. — "Nothing like me, I know." — he said sarcastically, gesturing toward his colorful clothes.

"...Right," — the taller male furrowed his eyebrows as he stared suspiciously at the jester. Not exactly the answer he wanted which made him deeply frustrated. An unknown has just invaded his home and knowing their name was not enough for him. 'Why was he there?' 'What were his intentions?' 'Where did he come from?' Hundreds of unanswered questions crossed his mind in a short time which he could not manage himself, and that only made him angrier. Disorganization and chaos were his worst enemies, he disliked anything he could not control. Things needed to be in his way, or his way.

"And who do I own the pleasure to meet?" — The jester asked.

"Jason," — he answered in a nonchalant tone.

"You're a seller, Jason?" — Candy Pop inquired him as he examined the place once anew, still amazed by the uniqueness of each toy.

"I'm a toymaker, actually," — corrected Jason, — "Why do you care?"

"I don't," — he sassed, grinning mischievously from ear to ear.

The ginger only replied to him with a huff.

"Now," — began the toymaker, — "Would you mind leaving my workshop, that you so kindly invaded?"

"Excuse me?" — The jester snickered. — "Am I bothering you?"

"No, not at all!" — he said sarcastically. Jason's patience was at its last, there was so little that stopped him from damaging the provocative, vibrant being who appeared mysteriously at his office. His rage attacks occurred quite frequently, although he despised losing his mind and easily snap, it could not be helped. Many of his deliriums ended in the flesh of his once friends, being replaced by a filler material, and his entire workplace was replete by proof and memories from these times.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I stayed just a little while, would you?" — Candy Pop objected, smiling wider.

"Why do you seem so interested in here?" — The ginger male questioned.

"Because of you!" — the blue-haired beamed.

"Me?" — he rose an eyebrow in distrust, and in a matter of seconds, Jason's frustrations seemed to have hopped out of the window. Praising and compliments were his main, if not only, weakness. He would never truly admit it because whenever someone showed admiration towards him, he pretended to act confident and triumphant. 'I know, I know' he would say to them, but it never meant that he did not love hearing the kind words. Even though the toymaker never really thought little of himself, being worshipped by someone else made him bloom with satisfaction, warming the nonexistent heart beating inside of him like he was alive, not just an emotionless doll from his workshop.

"What do you mean?" — Jason asked suspiciously.

"You're different," — stated Candy Pop, — "from the humans I've seen, at least-"

"Different how?" — He interrupted Candy Pop once again, crossing his arms, deeply interested by the jester's answer.

"So you've made all of these?" — A slight flush on his face was unnoticed by the ginger, whilst the jester simply ignored him as he bounced toward the wooden shelves full of porcelain dolls and stuffed toys.

"Yes," — the toymaker replied, clearly puzzled and distressed by not having his answer, however, he did not persist. He knew that he was going to stress over nothing, it was no use to demand anything from him.

"They're quite... exotic," — Candy Pop admitted, — "You crafted them all by yourself?"

"Every piece, and every stitch," — the ginger boasted with a rare, small smile across his face, proud of his art.

Ever since Jason was a child, he had a noticeable interest in toys not only due to his age but because he saw life in them. The beauty of creating and expressing his world and imagination into objects, it amazed him. He became a toymaker so he could be able to live and work inside his creative mind, getting away from his painful reality. 'You need to study more, to get an actual job' his parents would say as they saw their child's perfect school report. 'Stop playing with these stupid toys!' Jason's father scowled, snatching the wooden mannequin from his hand and carelessly throwing it into the trash can. Truth is, his family never supported him, all they cared about was having a successful ideal son, with an impeccable life. For them, that was the only way that Jason could be truly happy: realizing his parents' dreams which they could not complete themselves. But, Jason refused to follow his parents' wishes. He opened his shop where he could sell all of his incredible hand-made toys. Not so surprisingly, due to his extraordinary talent, his market got quite popular among all age groups around his town. Nonetheless, his mother and father were not satisfied, considering that he got expelled from his own home and made clear that they never wanted to see his face in their house ever again.

Candy Pop pranced around the workshop curiously analyzing the various toys that decorated the place, ignoring the unsettling feeling of being watched by the eyes made of glass. He did not interact with any of the toys as he did not see the need for doing so, yet the ginger watched carefully his every move as if Candy Pop would ruin his handcraft by any silly touch. The jester stopped by a unique, human-sized doll that appealed to him. She had dreamy, sky-colored eyes along with her short, chocolate brown, wavy hair, and stunning, short, emerald, flowered dress, surely made her stand out from the other dolls.

"Did you base this one out of a real girl?" — he asked, admiring every single detail closely, brushing his fingers softly through the brunette doll's hair.

"Not really," — the toymaker said airly, not paying much attention to Candy Pop's moves whilst his thoughts were traveling somewhere else as he spoke, — "Why do you ask?"

"She seems much more detailed," — Candy Pop stated thoughtfully, as he glanced at him, — "You put more effort into her, apparently."

Jason avoided the jester's gaze, — "Maybe so."

An uncomfortable, inevitable silence soared through the atmosphere, except for the blue-haired, who was enjoying every second of the taller male's awkwardness. But the quietness was cut short by Candy Pop's curiosity.

"What inspired you to make this doll, then?" — a familiar provocative grin spread on his face.

The toymaker thought for a moment before answering:

"An ideal best friend," — he said, — "Someone patient, kind, and loyal."

"I see," — Candy Pop nodded, — "Did you give her a name?"

"Amelie," — Jason replied quickly, without thinking twice. He immediately regretted answering so incautiously, as he turned away from the jester, clutching at the small piece of fabric in front of him that was before tossed angerly aside, — "Her name is Amelie."

"Oh, Amelie," — he echoed, giggling softly, interested by Jason's sudden excitement on the subject, — "People with this name usually have a deep inner desire for love and companionship, and want to work with others to achieve peace and harmony."

A distinct 'rip' sound was heard, and with two separated pieces of fabric made from the same material, the toymaker furrowed his eyebrows, glaring furiously at his own hands, as his voice came out as serene as untouched water, — "And you know this because...?"

"I'm very good with names," — he stated, — "Knowing their meaning can be quite useful, they can tell a lot about people–"

"Not always," — the taller male interrupted, — "I know from... experience" — he mumbled the last part.

Jason glanced at Candy Pop from the corner of his eyes, "But do you know the meaning of my name?" he questioned.

"Jason, the one who heals," — Candy Pop recited, as he got closer to him, with an irritating, teasingly, and cheerful voice, — "Does it sound, perhaps, suitable to you?"

The ginger smiled proudly, ignoring the other's provocation, — "It does, indeed," — he said, — "I'm the one who fixes whatever needs to be corrected."

"Do you know how to fix hammers?" — the blue-haired questioned softly, as he rested his hand on the worktable, next to the toymaker, to support his tired body.

"Depends on who's asking," — fumed Jason, disliking the jester's sudden approach, and glancing at the jester's hand.

Candy Pop only giggled playfully, enjoying the ginger's stubbornness, — "Well, you see, I have a large hammer that I use very often, and it gets worn out quite easily," — he claimed, — "If you'd fix it, I'd appreciate that."

"And what do I get out of this?" — the serious male scoffed.

"The ideal best friend," — he replied, referring to the ginger's previous statement, grinning mischievously.

"Who? You?!" — Jason exploded in disbelief and doubt.

"What? No! Where did you get that from?" — Candy Pop spluttered, giggling hysterically, — "I can find the perfect friend you're looking for, as many as you want, all I need to do is break in their dreams, manipulate them into meeting you, and you deal with the rest!" — he beamed, — "I do this sort of stuff all the time, it should be fairly easy."

Jason scratched his chin thoughtfully, considering the offer, and then, making his final decision, he suddenly leaned forward, grabbing Candy Pop by his collar, who grasped the taller's hands as a reflex, yet not struggling against it, their faces only inches apart. The entire workshop lost its vivid magic as the room darkened, dolls stared deeply into the jester's soul, while the stuffed toys were frayed, lazily stitched, and as soiled and old as the wooden racks. Its glass eyes were morbid alike the toymaker's, and equally disturbing as his temper. Jason's gaze was locked on the blue-haired male, who discreetly smiled in awe at the ginger's demeanor.

"Here is my proposition..." — he began, keeping his voice low and calm, — "You do your... 'thing', and after that, when they finally come to me..." — there was a brief pause, — "I'll fix whatever you need." — Jason got even closer, his nose almost touching Candy Pop's, — "Then, never show your face here again."

Even though Candy Pop was an immortal being, during his thousands of years of life, he has never met someone so brave, mad, and strong as Jason. He certainly was different from other humans. Not only because his appearance changed drastically depending on his mood as he did, but because it impressed him that the toymaker was able to confront him with such courage and strength. Every time Jason showed any sign of anger, it filled Candy Pop with a peculiar feeling that he did not recognize. A warm sensation that made seem like his heart would jump out of his chest, plus the fluttering butterflies in his stomach, which weirdly enough, did not make him sick. He did not understand those feelings, however, it did not mean that he ignored them. Regardless of his little knowledge on the subject, he looked forward to figuring himself out by spending time with the ginger for as much time as he could.

Lost in the ginger's assertive eyes, along with his crimson locks that softly fell on his dominant expression, Candy Pop spent a fraction of time to recover his senses from what just happened, blinking softly as he bit his lower lip, glancing at the toymaker's lips with dreamy eyes.

"Deal." — he said simply, returning with his common playful grin shortly after, besides being uncomfortably close to someone he just met, — "See you around, Jason."

At that instant, after a snap of Candy Pop's fingers, Jason opened his eyes, and as he adjusted his vision, he was not in the same situation as recently. Whilst he slowly got up from his messy, red velvet couch, his blanket falling on the floor soon after, he rubbed his eyes lazily, like he just had woken up from a deep slumber. Aside from him, there was no one else in the workshop, except for his varied toys, porcelain dolls, and decorations. 'That was different.' Jason thought to himself.

The lonely toymaker would often dream about the most surrealist scenarios: Buttleflies as big as buildings flying over town, seeing his dear workshop melting like fresh paint on a canvas during a boiling hot day, talking animals offering him candy and tea, selling humans in his old toyshop but every customer was a living puppet, or his dolls coming back to life searching for revenge against him. Nevertheless, he had never dreamed or seen that irritating, but unique jester, which confused him for not knowing why such a vibrant, unknown being appeared in his dreams. Shrugging his worries off like he mostly does, Jason rested his head on his palms, mentally listing the tasks he had for the day, observing the details of the old wooden floor under him.

"Who was that guy?" — asked a gentle, female voice, her question echoing inside the small room.

"Go away!" — the impatient male grunted in response, not lifting his head from his hands.

The girl ignored his command utterly and kept talking.

"He seems nice," — she continued, her words making Jason tremble violently, — "And funny–"

"I've already told you to go away, Amelie!" — Screamed Jason in fury whilst he got up from his couch and glared at the source of the voice, digging his sharp nails into his palms, breaking the flesh slightly. The toymaker's hair was white as snow, and his angry orbs a bright, vivid emerald green, unlike his natural amber ones. He searched for the girl, analyzing every edge of his humble office, only to find no one. The porcelain and ragdolls appeared to be exactly where they were supposed to be, so was the stuffed toys, along with the puppets, and the other toys and decorations. After the second he noticed his sudden explosive behavior, he took a sharp breath as he paced toward his favorite chair, counted to ten mentally, and popped himself on to the few pillows on his navy blue sofa, that was carefully placed in the corner of the workshop. Still trying to calm his nerves, breathing heavily, the pale locks of his hair slowly faded to his usual ginger color, yet his eyes still gleamed like green fire.

"It's all in my head," — he whispered to no one in particular, looking at his own feet, — "She's not here, it's all in my head," — he repeated.

"But I'm still here, aren't I, Jason?" — said Amelie, smiling sarcastically at him, but her smile disappeared just as soon as it came.

A young woman, whose wavy hair seemed as soft and sweet as chocolate clouds, stood out her bright, sky blue eyes, and perfectly framed her delicate pale skin. She was wearing a simple, short green dress that ended before her unkles. And there she stood, right in front of Jason's sofa, her hands behind her back, whilst she had a permanent scowl on her face.

Once, a long time ago, Amelie used to be Jason's best, and only, friend. She was the kindest, most patient, and the most devoted person he has ever met in his entire life. They stuck together like gum since elementary school, every memory they built side by side were unforgettable for both, including their last one. When, due to a serious disagreement they had, Amelie and Jason decided to never speak to each other again.

During a stressful day working in his toyshop, Jason let his emotions get the better of him, and his last customer was the victim of his first rage attack. Blood splattered on the floor of his workshop with a quick swing of the handsaw that was strongly held in the toymaker's hand. The moment he noticed the atrocity he had just done, he panicked, his body trembled as goosebumps covered his arms, eyes wide and pressing his lips forming a straight line. But he could not simply stay there observing his mistake, he had to fix it somehow, therefore, he separated the customer's limbs from their body like an old ragdoll and hid the pieces of flesh inside one of his toys. An exaggeratedly long, purple snake with colorful eyes was chosen to be the toymaker's corpse bag. Ironically, Amelie entered the shop just after the incident, she wished to make up with Jason due to a previous fight they had, but she had really bad luck that day. He tried to explain to her what happened, desperately asking for her help, and Amelie told him that he should go to the police to confess what he did because it was the right thing to do, he murdered someone, after all. Jason, enraged for not being supported by his only, dearest friend, spent no time to stop her from going to the cops, using his bloody handsaw. In the end, after a tense battle, Amelie was able to crave a screwdriver right into the toymaker's heart, however, for her disappointment, even though he stumbled back in pain, he did not die. Something happened. Something that not even Jason himself understood, it was a shock to him just as much as it was for Amelie. One of the walls from the toyshop started to inflate, it crumbled as a blue door popped out. He spared Amelie's life and entered the mysterious door, never being seen anew, by her at least. Still, he searched everywhere for the perfect friend to replace Amelie, someone who would stay by his side no matter the situation. Yet every single time, he failed. Not pleased since he did not find the one he was looking for, he "fixed" them by turning their bodies into human-sized dolls which he could shape to his version of better. If he thought that they talked too much, he'd stitch their mouths shut. What if they tried to run away from him? Legs removed and may be replaced by decorations such as a mermaid tail, or wood animalistic limbs. Did they see something that they were not supposed to? Make them never see again. Just put glass instead, it will look better anyway.

Ever since that day, his mental state became weaker day by day of his life, and at some point he began to see hallucinations of his old friend, talking to him, walking around his office, or breaking his toys to get his attention. But, it was not real, it never has been, even if deep down he wished it was. The Amelie who appeared in his office now and then was only a manifestation of his last bit of sanity that disagreed with his unconsequential and violent decisions. Jason did not realize that, but he sincerely needed to have someone by his side that questioned his actions, accompanied him in that lonely workshop, and forced him to get out of his comfort zone.

It was not the first time that she was there, Jason was already used to her inconvenient apparitions. Nevertheless, the girl's presence still annoyed him to the core, he hated remembering the real Amelie by the single look of that dreamy, perfect, fake blue eyes.

The toymaker glared at the brunette as he lifted his gaze at her, leaning his elbow on the armchair and resting his head on his hand.

"What do you want?" — he asked uninterested, with a clear hint of irritancy in his voice, — "Are you here to lecture me, again? Or maybe ruin my day like you usually do?"

"Jeez, must you be dramatic all the time?" — mocked Amelie.

She crossed her arms, softly holding on the side of her shoulders as she ambles through the office unlike it was the first time, turning her head at any eye-catching toy, her brown locks bouncing gracefully. Jason's eyes followed her moves steadily, but his thoughts did not.

The brunette furrowed her eyebrows whilst her attention was towards the worktable in the center of the room, — "Why is this torn? Do you even know what scissors are? You should use it instead of screwing your material up, you don't have much of it too," — she scolded, pitifully grabbing two pieces of fabric that were whole once.

He narrowed his eyes as he tried to identify what Amelie was holding, then waved his free hand lazily.

"I don't remember how this happened," — Jason murmured.

"You know that I can tell when you're lying, right? Can't fool me again–"

"Yes, I can't, because you are not here."

"That still doesn't mean that you can just keep lying to peop–"

"Take care of your own life! Oh, wait–"

"FINE! I got it already," — retorted Amelie, spinning on her heel as she turned her back to the toymaker.

Exploring the workshop anew, unintentionally, she catches herself interested in the human-sized doll which Jason specifically crafted to resemble his old friend. She breathes through her nose grumpily.

"I'm not the only one who notices when you're lying," — huffed the brunette, tugging at her own dress' skirt, — "That weird guy knew that you weren't telling the truth about not referencing that doll from an actual girl."

Jason snickered lowly as if he was a god and Amelie merely a slug.

"As I care for what he knows," he said sarcastically, "For someone who was created from my mind, you know nothing about me at all."

"But what if he exposes you to the police?" — Amelie wondered with a purposeful overly-dramatic tone, taunting the toymaker.

"Did take a look at him?"

"Yea, and?"

"Do you really think he's the type who goes to the police? Someone, who follows the laws and makes sure that others attend them?"

'He has a point,' she pondered in silence as Jason grinned triumphantly, knowing that he was right.

Amelie crossed her arms anew, glaring at the ground. But her frown quickly disappeared, a confused expression taking its place. Her mind randomly aimed at the mysterious jester's reactions to Jason's anger. She remembered how he strangely enjoyed watching the ginger's irritation, pushing him only further to madness without caring about the consequences. 'Sounds like Jason,' the last part made her reflect on their similarities. It made her astonished as Candy Pop was not scared by Jason's true, furious form, on the contrary, he appeared to be aroused.

Jason positioned one leg over another, whilst he sank in the sofa's pillows carelessly, his attention focused on the ceiling.

"The mood gets so much better when you don't speak, please keep it that way," — he gibed.

Not listening to the toymaker, lost in her world, Amelie suddenly spoke:

"I think that colorful guy from before has a thing for you."

In a matter of seconds, Jason jumped from his chair wide-eyed, — "What the fuck?"

"He was looking at you in a very... suspicious way..." — she hinted, raising an eyebrow as she glanced at him from behind her shoulder, — "You seriously haven't noticed?"

"What are you talking about? Did you lose your damn mind?!" — hissed the ginger.

"C'mon! The hundreds of times when you had to snap him out of his daydreaming while he eyed you! You really think that his hammer, or whatever, is conveniently broken?" — insisted Amelie.

"He did not say that his hammer was broken, he said that it broke easily since he uses it often–"

"Think whatever suits you better, but it won't change the fact that he probably likes you."

"Amelie, he's a guy! A MAN!" — he shouted incredulously.

"So?"

"I don't like men, and even if he was interested in me, it would never happen." — Jason claimed, certain of himself.

Considering the environment that he grew up in, it was understandable that Jason rejected this subject without thinking twice. His father was not only too demanding of him, but he was also rudely, and extremely closed-minded. The toymaker got used to hearing his dad's discriminative opinions in his daily life, and due to his lack of courage at the time, he was never able to confront him. After all, he knew that if he disobeyed or angered his father in any way, he'd probably get beaten, humiliated, or in a more drastic situation, spelled from his home. Therefore, he avoids reflecting on sexuality at all costs. Unfortunately, these fears unconsciously stuck with him, shaping the core of his personality.

The brunette opened her mouth to protest, but was instantly interrupted by the toymaker:

"Well yes, he did say that I'm different, he's not wrong, I am quite unique, and I know it, plus he only persisted to stay here because of me," — rambled the ginger aimlessly, gesturing with his hands exaggeratedly, — "But that doesn't mean a thing–"

Amelie faced the wall in front of her as Jason babbled since his main priority at the moment was convincing himself rather than her. Hiding the unavoidable joy that rose in her face, she pressed her lips so hard to avoid her laughter, that they turned white. She put both her hands on her disbelieved expression at the following next hours that the ginger endlessly discussed the blue-haired male.

Who knew that the invisible walls, which the toymaker built inside his head, were actually made of such a fragile, ironical and familiar material such as porcelain, yet he has difficulty on breaking them.

#fanfic #jason the toymaker x candy pop #candypop #candy pop #creepypasta headcanon #jasonthetoymaker #jason the toymaker #Creepypastas #creepypasta

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enchanted-lifepath · 5 years ago

Text

Liverpool History: The Lost Twin of Babylon

Liverpool History – You will learn more & have the best experience if you can find time to watch all the videos in the article along the way.

Be #Enchanted

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DD1srYqtIV4%5B/embedyt%5D

New York 9/11 Code And The Lost Twin of Babylon – The Second City of The Empire – All Roads Lead To Liverpool

INTRO

As with a lot of my work, I seem to do things in present day not knowing the full meaning or relevance of what I am doing until one day in the future when I need the work or thing I have already done. Suddenly the bigger picture becomes clear and I can call on something I did in the past to help me. This is one of the biggest examples to date.

One of the first hunches I ever had after starting Enchanted LifePath was one about the City of Liverpool, the place I was born. My home seemed to have all the warning signs I had learned during research of how the world has been ran by Freemasons and secret societies with satanic beliefs. I learned that attacks are planned and even how history seems to repeat itself.

This lead me to embark on an 18 month investigation into topics surrounding the Hillsborough disaster. I was digging deep always searching for answers only finding more questions. I was revealing things about the city of Liverpool that had never been linked before. I was coming to conclusions that had never been documented.

After I had a strong feeling about my work I had to find a way to present it to the long-suffering people of Liverpool using my website and YouTube channel. I had to show not just my city and the families of victims what I had found. I had to show the world. This was not going to be easy.

For now, I need to show you what I am saying by directing you to this video. The rest will then follow more naturally to you.

Please be warned it does contain some distressful crowd scenes from one of the darkest days in Liverpool’s history. This video helps teach you the codes that are hidden in plain sight. It will help you understand the rest of the article in a more educated way.

Having studied constants in a sea of variables I began to see a pattern emerging. I was seeing the same signatures that are hidden to many. But to a lot of people like myself, this was all clear as day. I had no doubt at all by now that Freemasons had something to do with the Hillsborough disaster. The more I see the more I know it was planned by design. This was no accident and the usual law changes came shortly after with all seated stadiums being introduced.

This paved the way for an easier policing of crowds in what was very soon to become the most televised sport in the world with the foundation of the Premier League. This meant huge sums of money could be made through subscription based sports channels that were easily sold to the newly formed stay at home football fan. But how do I help everybody realise what I was seeing? I just did my best. I could now see a motive and a money trail, but these money trails at this level lead back to a group of people who have no compassion for human life.

I am referring to the elites of the world who carry out ancient mystery teachings via rituals and worship a set of deities that depict the devil. The power and control over the world is backed up by human sacrifices or maybe hoaxes that are also a form of spirit cooking. There is nothing new under the sun as they say and what you are about to see on this page will prove to you that the story we are presented with regarding Hillsborough is only the tip of the iceberg. Speaking of which, we will be paying some attention to icebergs later on when we look at how many people from Liverpool were killed on the Titanic that also fell on April 15th just 77 years prior to the Hillsborough tragedy.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XPKIYuetm-k%5B/embedyt%5D

Two weeks after I published my findings via the video on YouTube the first mainstream news reports of Freemason involvement in the Hillsborough tragedy were published. I knew I was right but it was tough to explain such sensitive issues in this way to people who did not understand the type of synchronicity and research methods used to complete my work.

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This was followed by more investigations leading to more rabbit holes than I could imagine. After looking back over it all something hit me, the link, the gel bonding it all together, what did it all point to?

I now knew. It was right in front of me all along as I wrote every word or studied every article, made every video or when talking to other people and viewers posting comments which I would read and learn more from.

Having gathered all of the information I needed over the years I now have enough evidence to piece together here for you now to help you understand what I have been saying all along. This will be the most unique pieces of investigative film making and journalism work ever seen in Liverpool.

I will explain how the rise and fall of Liverpool was planned. How each and every attack we have come under as a city is the price we have paid for success going back centuries. This will highlight how our proud little city in the northwest of England ruled the waves for the British Empire with slavery and sacrifice being our main trade. We stood shoulder to shoulder with the biggest places on earth for over two hundred years.

If we examine the History of Liverpool over the past 200 years, we see a pattern. We brought the horrors of the slave trade to the world bringing the city vast riches and stature. It was then from Liverpool that the slave trade was abolished. Did this anger the Powers That Be? After that, Liverpool was outright invaded by the Britsih army as well as having our economy halted in August, 1911 (911). This was during the 1911 Liverpool general transport strike, also known as the great transport workers’ strike.

Although it was called the transport strike, other tradesmen from the city took to the picket lines in support. This was pivitol in the establishment of trade unions. Strike action began on the 14th of June which is the same date as the Grenfell Tower fire and Donald Trumps birthday. On August 13, 1911, police smashed into 85-100.000 people with batons injuring 350 with 3.500 troops positioned in the city. This was known as Bloody Sunday, it is the third one I am aware of in the UK and Ireland. The cruiser HMS Antrim was also in the Mersey with orders coming from then Home Secretary, Winston Churchill and the War Office.

Two days later, soldiers of the 18th Hussars opened fire on a crowd on Vauxhall Road, injuring fifteen, two fatally: John Sutcliffe, a 19-year-old Catholic carter, was shot twice in the head, and Michael Prendergast, a 30-year-old Catholic docker, was shot twice in the chest. An inquest into their deaths later brought in a verdict of ‘justifiable homicide’.

A general strike of all transport workers in Liverpool was arranged for the night of August 14, and the next day saw the city come to a complete halt. Any movement of goods was closely guarded by troops, most of whom were drafted in from outside of Liverpool as the territorials of the city had largely been confined to barracks, the authorities wary of their loyalty.

Eight months later on April, 15th, 1912, the same date as Hillsborough, Liverpool lost key figures in the Titanic disaster. Next we had the wars with WW2 most notable on Merseyside for May Day Blitz. It seems as though Churchill got his wish to see Liverpool turned to rubble after all. This devastated our docks and the city had its economy blown to bits. Next, we had the formation of the European Commission in 1958 which meant Liverpool’s US trade facing docks were now playing second fiddle to those on the east coast of the UK that faced Europe. Liverpool was on its legs. The decline had taken full effect by the 1980s as unemployment, homelessness and drug abuse soared.

But this again was managed as we are about to learn with Margaret Thatcher’s managed decline of Liverpool.

After the Toxteth riots in 1981, Marget Thatcher’s Tory’s engaged with the Prime Minister and urged her to “Let Liverpool Rot”

This was followed by an attack on Liverpool that ripped the prosperity out of the city, though it never ripped the heart out of us, that is impossible.

Liverpool was branded a city full of “Bin Dippers” but where did that tag come from? It was this government-sponsored televised propaganda disguised as a World In Action documentary that was aired between 1982 and 1985.

During the programming, the country was shown parts of the Wirral that had fallen foul to unemployment after the closure of the world-renowned Camel Laird shipyard. The yard built its first vessel, an iron barge, in 1828. Some of Britain’s most famous ships have rolled down the slipway, including the first Ark Royal aircraft carrier, two of the four Polaris nuclear missile submarines – Revenge and Renown – and the Conqueror, the nuclear-powered submarine that sank the Belgrano during the Falklands war.

Locals, ravaged by poverty during the managed decline took to the waste tips to salvage whatever they could to get by. Items were taken from the tip and then used at home or sold for a small profit which went towards surviving, not in the same midset as living costs, this was survival horror. This is why Liverpool people are called Bin Dippers because of state broadcasters using public perception manipulation techniques against our city. The rest of the country would not realise that the Wirral is not Liverpool, totally missing the point because of close proximity and accent. Truth be told, it is like Manchester people being called something over a program that was filmed in Stockport.

The 1985 Heysel stadium disaster was next. This was another huge event in Belgium that has been followed by many other since then that have been proven to be false flags or outright loaded with crisis actors as covered on this website many times before.

But in Belgium, in the city of Brussels on one summer night in May 1985, another tragedy involving the city of Liverpool took place. This was when the city of Liverpool, most notably Liverpool Football Club supporters were branded murderers by the rest of the nation. Another tag from the 1980s that is still used today. But was this another set-up?

May 29, was the date, May 29 leaves us with 216 days left in the year. You will see the significance of the number 216 very shortly when we look into a Michael Jackson gig at Aintree racecourse in 1988. But for now, we are looking at the official story at Heysel.

Here is that official story.

The stadium was crammed with 58,000–60,000 supporters, with more than 25,000 for each team. The two ends behind the goals comprised all-standing terraces, each end split into three zones. The Juventus end was O, N, and M and the Liverpool end was X, Y, and Z as deemed by the Belgian court after the disaster. However, the tickets for the Z section were reserved for neutral Belgian fans in addition to the rest of the stadium. This meant the Juventus fans had more sections than the Liverpool fans with the Z section occupied by neutrals which is thought to have heightened prematch tensions. The idea of the large neutral area was opposed by both Liverpool and Juventus, as it would provide an opportunity for fans of both clubs to obtain tickets from agencies or from ticket touts outside the ground and thus create a dangerous mix of fans.

At approximately 7 p.m. local time, an hour before kick-off, the trouble started. The Liverpool and Juventus supporters in sections X and Z stood merely yards apart. The boundary between the two was marked by temporary chain link fencing and a central thinly policed no-man’s land.

Hooligans began to throw stones across the divide, which they were able to pick up from the crumbling terraces beneath them.

As kick-off approached, the throwing became more intense. Several groups of Liverpool hooligans broke through the boundary between section X and Z, overpowered the police, and charged at the Juventus fans. The fans began to flee toward the perimeter wall of section Z. The wall could not withstand the force of the fleeing Juventus supporters and a lower portion collapsed.

Contrary to reports at the time, and what is still assumed by many, the collapse of the wall did not cause the 39 deaths. Instead, the collapse relieved the pressure and allowed fans to escape. Most died of suffocation after tripping or being crushed against the wall before the collapse. A further 600 fans were also injured. Bodies were carried out from the stadium on sections of iron fencing and laid outside, covered with giant football flags.

In retaliation for the events in section Z, many Juventus fans rioted at their end of the stadium. They advanced down the stadium running track to help other Juventus supporters, but police intervention stopped the advance. A large group of Juventus fans fought the police with rocks, bottles, and stones for two hours. One Juventus fan was also seen firing a starting gun at Belgian police.

Despite the scale of the disaster, UEFA officials, Belgian Prime Minister Wilfried Martens, Brussels Mayor Hervé Brouhon, and the city’s police force felt that abandoning the match would have risked inciting further trouble and violence, and the match eventually kicked off after the captains of both sides spoke to the crowd and appealed for calm.

The blame for the incident was laid on the fans of Liverpool FC. On 30 May official UEFA observer Gunter Schneider said, “Only the English fans were responsible. Of that there is no doubt.”

UEFA, the organiser of the event, the owners of Heysel Stadium and the Belgian police were investigated for culpability. After an 18-month investigation, the dossier of top Belgian judge Marina Coppieters was finally published. It concluded that blame should rest solely with the English fans.

A total of 34 people were arrested and questioned with 26 Liverpool fans being charged with manslaughter – the only extraditable offence applicable to events at Heysel. An extradition hearing in London in February–March 1987 ruled all 26 were to be extradited to stand trial in Belgium for the death of Juventus fan Mario Ronchi. In September 1987 they were extradited and formally charged with manslaughter applying to all 39 deaths and further charges of assault. Initially, all were held at a Belgian prison but over the subsequent month’s judges permitted their release as the start of the trial became ever more delayed.

The trial eventually got underway in October 1988, with three Belgians also standing trial for their role in the disaster: Albert Roosens, the head of the Belgian Football Association, for allowing tickets for the Liverpool section of the stadium to be sold to Juventus fans; and two police chiefs — Michel Kensier and Johann Mahieu — who were in charge of policing at the stadium that night. Two of the 26 Liverpool fans were in custody in Britain at the time and stood trial later. In April 1989, (same month as the Hillsborough disaster) 14 fans were convicted and given three-year sentences, that were half suspended for five years, allowing them to return to the UK.

Gerry Clarkson, Deputy Chief of the London Fire Brigade, was sent by the British Government to report on the condition of the stadium. He concluded that the deaths were “…Attributable very, very largely to the appalling state of [the] stadium.”

He discovered that the crush barriers were unable to contain the weight of the crowd and had the reinforcement in the concrete exposed, the wall’s piers had been built the wrong way around and that there was a small building at the top of the terrace that contained long plastic tubing underneath. His report was never used in any inquiry for the disaster.

Despite its status as Belgium’s national stadium, Heysel was in a poor state of repair by the time of the 1985 European Final. The 55-year-old stadium had not been sufficiently maintained for several years, and large parts of the stadium were literally crumbling. For example, the outer wall had been made of cinder block, and fans who did not have tickets were seen kicking holes in it to get in. Liverpool players and fans later said that they were shocked at Heysel’s abject condition, despite reports from Arsenal fans that the ground was a “dump” when Arsenal had played there a few years earlier. They were also surprised that Heysel was chosen despite its poor condition, especially since Barcelona‘s Camp Nou and Santiago Bernabéu in Madrid were both available. Juventus president Giampiero Boniperti and Liverpool CEO Peter Robinson urged UEFA to choose another venue, claiming that Heysel was not in any condition to host a European Final, especially a European Final involving two of the largest and most powerful clubs in Europe. However, UEFA refused to consider a move. It was later discovered that UEFA’s inspection of the stadium lasted just thirty minutes.

When we take a step back from emotions and look at what happened that night in 1985, is it not a good question to ask if all of this seemed to be put in place by the powers that be who set a trap for Liverpool Football Club and its supporters who were not only from Liverpool due to the clubs outstanding success over the years?

The venue, just like Hillsborough, was deemed unsafe for use after various warning signs were ignored leading up to the events. A perfect storm was created by the Global elites who govern all industries, including sport. This led to new laws being created as usual with these situations. And when we ask ourselves who benefits, a bigger picture becomes a possibility.

Our great city fell further into decline for the remainder of the 1980s, but it was built by monsters just like other great cities of the Empires that have fallen for thousands of years. I can prove to you Liverpool is a lost Babylon, we are Rome, we are Egypt, the second city of the Empire.

Now it is time for one of the biggest questions about our city.

What is the 9/11 code and how is Liverpool tied in?

I SEE YOU

Liverpool Foundation – 1190

Liver Buildings – Opened: 1911 During the transport strike

Travel time from Liverpool to New York, World trade Centre – 9 hours 11 mins

Liverpool, New York (USA) Daylight hours in December 9 hours 11 mins

Liverpool May Day Blitz (Beltane Fire Festival) 119 other explosives such as incendiaries were used.

Distance from Liverpool to WTC New York is 3306 miles.

Liverpool was also home to world’s first oversea’s American consulate.

THE 9/11 CODE

Liverpool and New York have many ties but I bet you did not expect them to be linked to the Babylonian Empire did you?

If I asked 100 people to think of a number that reminds them of New York most would say 9/11. This would be a pretty common answer post the September 11, 2001, World Trade Centre attacks which shook us into the new age of ‘fake terror’ we still live in today.

The 9/11 code was present in the blue prints of New York’s twin city, Liverpool, England, hundreds of years before New York was even founded.

The City of Liverpool (The New York, of Europe, Second City of The Empire) was founded in 1190, which is 811 years before 9/11.

Once again we have another highly cryptic number with the 88 code embedded when we look at 8×11 = 88.

Truth Bomb, the 9/11 attacks were coded into the foundation of Liverpool 811 years before the World Trade Centre Twin Towers and building 7 were brought down, do you still think this was an accident?

I showed you in this video from 2013/14 season, remember this one about Liverpool Football Club, the phrase Rise Up and the Liver Buildings depicted with Daniel Sturridge number 15, Steven Gerrard number 8 and Luis Suarez number 7 totalling 33? Take a look.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/9-11-Attacks-Coded-Into-Liverpool-1190-Foundation-811-88-Years-Before-9-11-New-York-Of-Europe.mp4

Wikipedia tells us: The history of Liverpool can be traced back to 1190 when the place was known as ‘Liuerpul’, (LuprEvil) possibly meaning a pool or creek with muddy water, settled by Romans, Liverpool had early ties to the Babylonian beliefs which had re-manifested through the Roman Empire. The city became known as “the second city of the Empire“, and was also called “the New York of Europe” amidst the slave trade. During the Second World War, the city was the centre for planning the crucial Battle of the Atlantic, and suffered a blitz second only to London’s.

1190 was an interesting year as most key events listed on Wikipedia are about the Massacre of Jews! This is huge. Over the Ides of March on the 16th, in 1190, 150 Jews were ambushed by a mob who killed those who did not commit suicide. All Jews killed in Norwich on the 6th. Stamford fair massacre is also mentioned.

We have just seen some 9/11‘s and 88‘s but what if I had more to show you concerning the city of Liverpool and another huge event where reports of a crush were ignored by police just months before Hillsborough? What would you think if it took place on September 11, 1988?

The venues was Aintree Racecourse and the event was the last leg of the Michael Jackson World Bad Tour. The event was watched by 125.000 spectators in the famous venue which had just a 50.000 capacity. Merseyside police played down reports of a crush at the gig but medical reports and world press all stated there was at least 3500 people treated for injuries after being crushed.

This incident took place 216 days before Hillsborough. I told you earlier I would explain the 216 number. 216 is 6x6x6. It is known as the 216 constant. You can read all about the gig and how police played reports from the public down on my article below.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2019/04/21/michael-jackson-bad-gig-crush-aintree-88/

April 15 – Hillsborough disaster ritual – The Fordicia, also called Hordicidia, was a Roman festival for the goddess Tellus held on April 15. During the ceremony, a pregnant cow was sacrificed, the calf fetus burned and the ashes saved for the Parilia festival.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/04/THE-RAVEN-Notre-Dame-Fire-I-Pet-Goat-2-DECODED-Fordicia-April-15-MUST-SEE.mp4

April 15 The Ongoing Fordica Ritual?

FACT: The Ides of April Notre Dame Fire falls one month after the Ides of March Christchurch Mosque shootings when Brenton Tarrant played the song Hellfire after his alleged rampage.

Beware The Ides Of April – The 15th day of the 4th month brings historical incidents in a cryptic pattern that can not be ignored.

1452 Fordicia – Birth Of Leonardo Da Vinci – Born on Fordicia and died during The Beltane Fire Festival some 500 years ago on May 2nd 1519. Da Vinci was featured in the World In 2019 front cover and article as reported on by Enchanted LifePath in December 2018. Leonardo Da Vinci Full Reduction = 88.

1865 Fordicia – Abraham Lincoln Assassination – 1865 is 911 (1+8=9) (6+5=11). Abraham Lincoln Reverse Full Reduction = 93, Notre Dame Spire height 93 meters. Number 93 meaning, Sun worship, sun allegedly 93 million miles away. Thelema Alistair Crowley 93. Lincoln death came 413 years after the birth of Da Vinci. 4×13 = 52 which reduces down to 7. Building 7 WTC.

1912 Fordicia – Titanic Disaster – 47 years after Lincoln, WTC Building 7 had 47 floors 911.

1955 Fordicia – Birth of Dodi Fayed 43 Years after Titanic – (4+3=7) Dodi Fayed Died August 31, 2007, next Princess Diana (Goddess of the hunt) in Paris.

1989 Fordicia – Hillsborough Disaster – 34 (7) years after birth of Dodi 96 Liverpool Football Club fans died after being crushed in a mass Fordicia sacrifice at Hillsborough stadium, Owlerton, Sheffield.

2013 Fordicia – Fake Boston Bombings – 3 reported deaths 24 years after Hillsborough (24/42 mirrored a rainbow can only be seen at 42 degrees) 2+4=6 but 6 is not a master number so it can be reduced to 33 which is a master number so we stick.

2014 Fordicia – Boko Horam Kidnapped 276 School Girls – 2+7+6=15. Dates of Fordicia. The child grab is alleged to have happened 365 Days after Boston Bombings – 365 is 3×11=33 3x(5+6).

2019 Fordicia – Notre Dame Cathedral Fire – Thought to be as symbolic as 9/11 the fire took place on April 15 Day 105 which is the 15:06 time the match was abandoned at Hillsborough (15/1+5=6).

What is the link?

FORDICIA

What is Fordicia?

The Roman Pagan Festival in honor of Tellus, the Roman earth goddess Diana the Huntress, The Mother of All Gods, and here she is all over the Notre Dame Fire and all the other historical, tragic or staged events listed above.

The deity that all these events are connected to.

I have often pointed out how I felt more people from Liverpool died on the Titanic on April 15, 1912, than at the Hillsborough disaster on April 15, 1989. I was able to confirm my hunch quite easily. Let’s not forget the New York connection either as that is where this ship was heading. The Titanic was full of scousers, we made up a huge number of the crew members, we helped design and build the ship. The band playing as the ship went down, who featured in the movie were from Liverpool. The ships main corridor was so long it was nicknamed Scotty Road by locals on board the vessel. This corridor was to play a huge part in the sinking of the Titanic. Another disaster with Liverpool all over it.

The man who shouted “ice berg dead ahead” in the movie Titanic starring Leonardo Di-Caprio and Kate Winslet was a scouser. I often wonder if Jack was portaying a scouser seeing as Liverpool had a major input into all aspects of the stricken vessel.

Scotland Road was a long corridor that ran the entire length of the ship along the port side of E Deck. It was used by crew members and steerage passengers to quickly move between the ends of the ship. There was also an entrance from shore here, single men boarded the ship at this entrance and ended up on Scotland Road. Several Third Class areas could be reached from Scotland Road like the open space and the dining room. The boiler rooms also had an exit on Scotland Road.

The name “Scotland Road” was given affectionately by members of the ship’s crew, many of whom hailed from Liverpool. Scotland Road remains a major thoroughfare in the northern part of the city. Crew members from the surrounding area noted the similarity with the corridor on Titanic, which played a similar role as a primary route, hence the name.

The flooding of Scotland Road

When the ship was sinking, Scotland Road allowed the water to quickly flood all compartments accessible through the road. Because the water could only move this freely at port side, Titanic started to list to port as soon as E Deck flooded at 1:00 A.M. and the developing starboard list was countered.

You can see the work of devious Freemasons all over this one even down to the lies that were published in news articles the next day claiming all passengers had been saved from the ship. How they could print this after such an event is beyond me but it happened. Look at these publications then I will move on to who was on board the alleged Titanic.

We all know the Titanic never even set sail, and it was the identical sister ship, The Olympic who was part of the White Star insurance claim ploy, manipulated by the cabal.

The insurance job reminds me of the recent vanishing of MH370 in one regard, that being, on the stricken plane, were reported to be 4 out of 5 patent holders for RFID technology with the one patent holder not on the plane that day being a Rothschild. Leaving himself sole patent holder. Now how is this similar to the sinking of the Titanic? Look at these three men.

There is no real evidence that the Titanic hit an iceberg. What’s especially interesting is the list of people who, at the last minute, did not board, and the other list of people who stayed onboard. The list of people who did not board includes a great many billionaires, and the other list, of those who did board, also contains a list of billionaires. The survivors, those who did not board, are now among the list of families who run the world. Meanwhile, since eleven Canadian billionaire did board, Canada ceased to be much of a competition to the USA after the outcome of the Titanic. The same was true of a great number of other important and mega rich people who died on the Titanic – their fortunes and power were permanently wiped out. To sum up – the list of people who did not get on board the Titanic reads like a who’s who of ‘most powerful people of the 20th century and beyond.’

Was the Titanic switched with the Olympic? Survivors of Titanic reported hundreds of explosions. The Titanic only had two boilers, two out of the four smoke stacks were allgedly fake. Many water tight compartments were not water tight. JP Morgan got off boat in England unexpectedly. All is very much like the World Trade Center-built cheaply, explosions heard, hundreds of people had pre knowledge of 9/11, especially Mormons, Freemasons, and Elite connect family members like Bush’s, Guillani’s, and more.

I said I feel more Liverpudlians died on the Titanic/Olympic than they did at Hillsborough so let’s look into why I say that.

The diagram below is from an archive of Liverpoool born crew and passengers on board the Titanic on the night of the Disaster. The picture links through to the original source. It shows 72 people. I know this is less than the 96 who lost their lives at hIllsborough but the key word here is Liverpool born and I must point out the fact that this list may not contain a high number of stowaways on baord the ship when it sank. I feel the actual figure will be higher again. People being trafficked must also be brought into account too. Prostitutes on board the Titanic possibly all unaccounted for. Jack in the movie may well have been portraying a scouser, he was a stowaway, they were not all listed.

Less than 50 people from the city of Liverpool died at Hillsborough. This can be confirmed by looking at all the names and where they were from on the list of victims. I excluded people from the Wirral in that count as it is not Liverpool and I am stating more people from Liverpool died on the Titanic than they did at Hillsborough.

There are various occult (hidden) days of significance throughout the calendar year which have special importance. From March 22nd to May 1st is known as the ‘season of sacrifice,’ which as a period of time when many false flag events have occurred.

LIVERPOOL – LIVERPOOL, NEW YORK & LIVERPOOL – EVIL TWIN

Liverpool, UK, has been linked to New York in this article. But did you know New York had a town called Liverpool, New York? The town was settled by Jesuits and the map is shaped like the baphomet. Here is a video I uploaded in 2016 after an area of Liverpool, New York, called Syracuse was trending on Twitter. Syracuse, New York, nicknamed The ‘Cuse, Salt City, Emerald City, The Heart of New York, also shares its name with Syracuse, Sicily, which was founded in ancient Greek times.

Before we watch the video, I just realised something else! Emerald City is known to be the heavens in the bible and its walls are said to be made of jewels such as Emerald. The Heavens green in scripture with Gods throne being in Emerald city. It is known as the Throne Of God. The Emerald is hexagonal in shape. This takes us straight back to the HEX, Saturn worship, the Baphomet and the 6 pointed star of Satan.

The book of Revelation revolves around 7’s, and all jewels do, as well. Everyone of them falls into one of 7 categories.

The diamond is cubic.

The emerald is hexagonal.

The ruby is trigonal.

And so on for 7 different types. 7 is God’s perfect number, and He created all jewels to fall into 7 categories, which reveals His love for order, which is part of the beauty of His creation. Beauty and order will characterize the eternal environment of the New Jerusalem.

When God created the Devil he also created jewelry and made him a garment of jewels. Let me show you.

Satan is the first being that we have any record of who was clothed with precious stones. In Ezek. 28, he is described as the model of perfection in beauty. Then in 28:13 we read, “You were in Eden the garden of God; every precious stone adorned you: ruby, topaz and emerald, chrysolite, onyx and jasper, sapphire, turquoise and beryl. Your settings and mountings were made of gold; on the day you were created they were prepared.“

Revelation 21:19

And the foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jasper; the second, sapphire; the third, a chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald;

http://enchantedlifepath.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/BAAL-DENVER-DOLL-HEAD-MYSTERY-Syracuse-Evil-Twins-Liverpool-New-York-WARNING-HUGE-DISCOVERY.mp4

Liverpool is a lakeside village in Onondaga County, New York, United States. The population was 2,347 at the 2010 census.[1] The name was adopted from the city of Liverpool in the United Kingdom.[2] The village is located on Onondaga Lake, in the western part of the town of Salina and is northwest of Syracuse, of which it is a suburb.

The area was originally inhabited by the Iroquois, starting in the 16th century. In the mid-17th century, Canadian French Jesuits (Black Popes) visited the area, setting up missions. These were not very permanent, however. An example of these missions is Sainte Marie among the Iroquois, on Onondaga Lake just outside the village. Once the (Erie Canal) and (Oswego Canal) were built, the area was settled by Irish canal workers, Yankee settlers, and, later, German immigrants. The early recorded name for the village was “Little (Pagan) Ireland”.

The Lucius Gleason House and Liverpool Cemetery are listed on the National Register of Historic Places

TWIN TOWERS OF LIVERPOOL & NEW YORK

The infamous World Trade Centre stands in our memories as a symbol of terror, I spotted another synchronicity when looking at the Royal Liver Buildings, Liverpool and the World Trade Centre, New York. Both landmarks overlooked world famous waterfronts. The two buildings had the twin theme running through them. Liverpool’s Twin Towers will of gone generally unnoticed as twin towers before now, so what does water and twins link to?

This makes me think of Gemini (Twins & The Creator) and Aquarius.

Aquarius is the eleventh astrological sign in the Zodiac, originating from the constellation Aquarius. The water carrier represented by the zodiacal constellation Aquarius is Ganymede, a beautiful Phrygian youth.

Gemini is the third astrological sign in the zodiac, originating from the constellation of Gemini. Under the tropical zodiac, the sun transits this sign between May 21 (3) and June 21 (3). Gemini is represented by The Twins Castor and Pollux. 11 x 3=33.

The Liver building opened in 1911, the same year as the transport strikes. The building is the purpose-built home of the Royal Liver Assurance group, which had been set up in the city in 1850 to provide locals with assistance related to losing a wage-earning relative. One of the first buildings in the world to be built using reinforced concrete, the Royal Liver Building stands at 98.2 m (322 ft Skull & Bones) tall to the top of the spires, and 50.9 m (167 ft) to the main roof.

It is located at the Pier Head and along with the neighbouring Cunard Building and Port of Liverpool Building is one of Liverpool’s Three Graces, which line the city’s waterfront.

Look at the Freemasonic tea-party that was held around the clock faces before they were hoisted up to the twin towers. This big magic circle is a classic ritualistic layout and you will see similar things in many places including at Mecca when pilgrims circumnavigate around the cube which represents Saturn. The center of this circle looks like the sun in another song and dance connected to sun worship. This photograph was taken a year before the sinking of the Titanic, it begs the question, how many of these men were on board the stricken vessel?

The two clock towers were the crowning point of the building,taking it to over 300 feet in height and allowing sailors from all over the River Mersey to see what time it was. The four clocks were easy enough to see, as their diameter of seven and a half meters made them the largest clock faces in the country, bigger than those on Big Ben (BB=22) in London, which are 6.9 meters (69/96 as above so below). 18 inches (666) shorter than the Liver Building clock faces.

The clocks were made by Gent & Co of Leicester, whose electric timepieces were on display in railway stations all over the world. They each consisted of 27 sections Before installation, forty Royal Liver executives and civic dignitaries held a special dinner, with one of the clock faces used as a dining table. The huge clock faces, whose hands alone weighed 5cwts, were then hoisted up to the towers in May 1911 in readiness for the big switch on, which would see the clocks being controlled electronically from the Greenwich Observatory.

The clocks were started on 22nd June 1911 (Summer Solstice) at 1.40pm, the precise time George V was crowned. It was the Royal Liver Chairman Mark Lewis who started them off, telling the VIPs (Freemasons) gathered that Liverpool had always been loyal to kings and queens and it was only right that the largest electrical timepieces in the world should be started at the time His Majesty was crowned. On turning the lever, Mr Lewis said ‘In the name of God I turn on this lever’ before his suggestion that they be known as he Great George Liver Clocks was greeted with warm applause. On the river ships’ sirens blew while on the ground several verses of the National Anthem were sung.

World Trade Center (1973–2001, the building complex that was allegedly destroyed by hijackers using airplanes on September 11, 2001.

The World Trade Center was a large complex of seven buildings in Lower Manhattan, New York City, United States. It featured landmark twin towers, which opened on April 4 (4/4 the Obama number, Caesar, Half of 88), 1973, and were destroyed in the September 11 attacks, with 7 World Trade Center collapsing later that day due to the damage it suffered when the twin towers collapsed that morning. The other buildings in the complex were severely damaged by the collapse of the twin towers, and their ruins were eventually demolished.

THE LIVER BIRDS

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yt8-otWr4dU%5B/embedyt%5D

Liverpool has many well-known landmarks with the city having made a lasting impression on the world stage through the Football Clubs, The Beatles and the Slave Trade of course. We live in a very symbolic city (as I am showing you here on this article) with one of the great visual icons being The Liver Birds which have sat proudly on top of the Royal Liver Buildings since 1911 (9/11). But again, there is a story behind the Liver Birds that is hidden in plain sight and yes it is another song and dance about Satan, Sun Worship, and sacrifice.

Most people associate Liverpool with the two liver birds but there is another on a Grade II-Listed building in the city known as the Mersey Chambers which was built in 1878 for the Harrison Shipping Line.

This is known as the mother bird, it is said to pre-date the two birds that are on top of the Liver Buildings.

It made the news in recent years when it’s left-wing mysteriously went missing. Seems very political to me lol.

As with all secret traditions and belief systems which herald from ancient Greece, Rome and Egypt they carry mythology with them through generations with the whispers of the people keeping stories alive by telling children the tales of the past. As well as Liverpool being steeped in symbols from those mythologies, for example, you only have to walk around the city center to see the Neptune statues and carvings in a lot of the buildings, but Liverpool has its own mythology in the story of the Liver Birds. But where did the story originate from? Let’s take a look at the Wikipedia version first.

After King John founded the borough of Liverpool by royal charter in 120, the city The borough’s second charter was granted by Henry III in 1229, giving the townspeople the right to form a guild with the privileges this came with, including the right to use a common seal.

This was the birth of Liverpool’s association with what is known as the Liver Bird, but what type of bird is it and what else does it symbolise?

The Liver Bird is thought to of originally been an Eagle which was used as the symbol of John the Evangelist who was the namesake and the Patron Saint of King John ( St Johns Market). Records tell us The plant sprig is interpreted as broom, a badge of the Plantagenet dynasty. Also visible on the seal is a star and crescent, one of King John’s personal badges.

In the 17th century, the birds identify had been forgotten and started to be known as either as a cormorant, a common bird in the area or as a “lever”. It is when we look into the cormorant bird and mythology around it when we start to see why it is looking down over our city.

The amount of secret references to Satan discovered on this article regarding this city is beyond belief but this next one is something which will again highlight just how these crafty bastards code the devil into almost every detail within our surroundings.

The cormorant bird features in biblical teachings in the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve are watched by Satan from on top of the tree of life having turned into the bird after leaping down from Mt. Niphrates toward Earth. Observing God’s creations from the Garden, he found it’s beauty fascinating, yet, weighing up his role in the world, he decided his best option was to either destroy God’s Kingdom or at least divide it as he chose Evil. This came before he presented himself to Adam and Eve as a serpent having seen their love for each other as a symbol of Gods image he then set about to destroy their peaceful life in paradise with the temptation to eat the forbidden fruits from the Tree of Knowledge.

“Sitting on the tree of life sits the three forms of the Devil. According to Milton’s Paradise Lost, Satan enters Eden three times, once as a toad, once as a cormorant, and lastly as a snake.”

Cormorants feature in heraldry and medieval mythology, usually in their “wing-drying” pose, which was seen as representing the Christian cross, and symbolising nobility, sacrifice and greed.

[embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8H_JVWLfl1U%5B/embedyt%5D

Let me bring you to Liverpool FC’s recent win in the 2019 Champions League final which made it a total of 6 European cups for the club. Remember 6 is the number of Satan, the 6 pointed star is a good starting point if you want to look into it some more.

We have found out that Liverpool represents Paradise, the garden of Eden, but in the devil’s image this is hell. Paradise has fallen. They keep showing us. It is written on the walls of our city. Secretly coded into the streets, embedded into our consciousness.

But the cormorant and the bittern shall possess it; the owl also and the raven shall dwell in it: and he shall stretch out upon it the line of confusion, and the stones of emptiness. (Isa 34:11)

The whole of the city was bombarded with mass rituals this week as we step forward to current day as my research on these subjects surrounding Liverpool continues 5 years after I first began. The photograph above is from the player’s trophy parade after returning from Madrid where they beat Tottenham Hotspur 2 – 0 to win the Champions League. 750.000 Liverpool FC supporters flooded the streets of Liverpool to welcome home their heroes. The symbology around the day and the cup win was starting to build into a frenzy and the parade took place on Sunday, June 2, 2019. The cup win was the night before on Saturday, June 1. The city was turned red. Here is the highly masonic St. Georges Hall and the Radio City Tower in all their Satanic Glory. I will come back to the 96.7 Radio City Tower shortly.

As the open-top bus approached the city center we began to see a lot of red smoke, fireworks and the Liver Buildings of course. That iconic shot was a must for this event and I watched the whole parade at home so I could take screenshots of the whole thing and out of the 300 or so I took here is a couple which caught my eye.

This one shows the Liver Buildings with red smoke coming from one of Liverpool’s Twin Towers. It was the East Tower, the one that faces over the city, the people, prosperity.

The image strikes me as odd for a few reasons but the main one being the fact that this red smoke was an organised part of the celebrations. There were fireworks and smoke planned into the route, this was the big finale. A lot of effort went into this scene from the technicians who will have put this all in place. One question I had was why was only one of the towers used? Why did the red smoke come from just one tower? Why did it appear as though one of the birds was on fire? One of the towers esoterically destroyed by flames? Was this a reference to a future event or was it maybe pointing back to the Notre Dame fire that we have linked to Hillsborough?

Revelation 9:2-3

He opened the bottomless pit, and smoke went up out of the pit, like the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkened by the smoke of the pit. Then out of the smoke came locusts upon the earth, and power was given them, as the scorpions of the earth have power.

The smoke coming out of the tower is one thing but the Liver Bird right above it is another! This looks like the Phoenix rising out of the flames does it not?

Here is what I am talking about so you have more visualisation of what I am showing you.

Look at the two images.

Isaiah 4:5

Then the LORD will create over the whole area of Mount Zion and over her assemblies a cloud by day, even smoke, and the brightness of a flaming fire by night; for over all the glory will be a canopy.

Revelation 15:8

And the temple was filled with smoke from the glory of God and from His power; and no one was able to enter the temple until the seven plagues of the seven angels were finished.

Genesis 19:28

And he looked down toward Sodom and Gomorrah, and toward all the land of the valley, and he saw, and behold, the smoke of the land ascended like the smoke of a furnace.

Smoke and red flares are used by Orthodox Greeks each Easter as they perform a ritual called the Burning Of Judas as depicted below.

All this talk of fire and destruction mixed with jubilation is giving me the creeps but let’s carry on. The Liver Buildings are now seen in a whole new way by anyone who has reached this stage of the article. I have made claims and backed them up by lining it up to the information that we are presented with. Look at this about the Liver Bird. My case against this city just grows and grows. I was born here remember.

This is what is looking down over Liverpool with the Liver Buildings representing the tree of life and the city is the Garden of Eden which Satan has set about to ruin. The devil deceives, this is why instead of a Lord’s Cross on top of the Liverpool Twin Tower Liver Buildings we have a bird that featured in the Bible before the serpent. This is why this city is cursed, these are the spells placed over us all each day as we go about our lives earning our daily bread, our home is built to celebrate sacrifice and sin.

“And the little owl, and the cormorant, and the great owl, (Leviticus 11:17 KJV)”

The Tree of Life references and connections are building so let us take a look at this. I have just been looking at old maps of Liverpool I noticed this map looks like a Tree of Life shape. I combined the images so you could see. what do you think?

Next I compare the Tree of Life to the Liverpool FC logo and a picture of the Champions League cup that was part of the advertising campaign in the build-up to the final.

The Liverpool F.C logo that you can see below on the left is an old-style more original club crest. It bears comparisons to the shape of the Champions League trophy that we see on the far right of the 3 pictures. Both the club logo and the European cup resemble the Tree of Life.

We can see Liverpool players and Jurgen klopp making up the tree that is in the heavens (the firmament) as we can see depicted by the stars and galaxies in the background. The arms of the cup look like wings of an angel. Fallen angels. Jurgen Klopp seems to be top of the tree in a God-like position. We see the Egyptian King Mo Salah praying and Roberto Firmino (the firmament) with Sadio Mane’s back turned revealing his shirt and squad number 10. If we think about the number ten in an esoteric or biblical context then we can highlight many factors such as the ten commandments. In Genesis 1 we find the phrase “God said” 10 times, which is a testimony of His creative power.

The Passover lamb was selected on day 10 of the 1st month (Exodus 12:3), as was Jesus, the Lamb that takes away the sins of the world (John 12:28 – 29; 1 Corinthians 5:7). Day 10 of the 7th month is also the Holy Day known as the Day of Atonement. This unique day of fasting pictures the removal of Satan, the author of sin, before the Millennial reign of Jesus begins (Revelation 20:1 – 2).

The last great world-ruling kingdom of man under Satan is symbolized prophetically by the 10 toes of Daniel 2 and the 10 horns of Revelation 13 and 17.

The 10 plagues God sent on ancient Egypt, in order to free his people, represented his complete and total judgment of the pagan empire.

The Nile River is turned into blood

Plague of Frogs

Plague of Lice

Swarms of Beasts

Plague on the Cattle

Boils

Great storm of hail, thunder and lightening

Locusts

Darkness over the entire land for three days

The death of the firstborn of both man and beast

We have learned a couple of things about the city of Liverpool such as the Liver Birds which not many people are aware of so let us take a moment to look into the meaning of the eagle which is what the Liver Bird was originally thought to be.

The Eagle is symbolic to the Scottish rite of 33rd degree Freemasonry and is used on masonic logos by secret societies who have carried on the mystery teachings of ancient Babylon. There is proof of their existence all around us it is just a matter of training your eyes to be able to spot the signs and symbols, in a way, you need to learn how to see backwards to decode it all.

The double headed eagle is associated with the concept of Empire. Most modern uses of the symbol are directly or indirectly associated with its use by the Roman/Byzantine Empire, whose use of it represented the Empire’s dominion over the Near East and the West.

To understand why the eagle is a satanic symbol I have to explain the story of Nimrod, the Sun God to you briefly.

The Freemasonic eagle with two heads looking left and right, east and west, is symbolic of Nimrod in the role of Eannu. Eannus, is said to have held the keys to the doors of heaven and he was the sole intermediary between God and humanity.

Nimrod (the great grandson of Noah) followed in his father’s footsteps (Cush) and rebelled against God with his wife Semiramus. Nimrod was sentenced to death and his body was chopped up into pieces and parts were sent to other cities as a warning.

His wife fled in despair, after claiming her husband had ascended to the Sun she went around each city collecting the parts of her beloveds corpse and was able to collect all except for his penis which is why we see the phallic symbol on world landmarks and is the true meaning of the Christmas tree also with Nimrod’s birthday falling on December 25th. This proves the festive season to be just another repackaged ancient Babylonian mystery teaching like everything else we celebrate blindly.

Semiramus gave birth to a son on December 25th and claimed it was the reincarnation of Nimrod who had returned to rule the world, this time of year is known as the birth of the new Sun. The dance of creation and destruction is riddled throughout this story and that brings us to the sun and moon worship and how the Liver Buildings have this same theme etched into them.

The Liver Birds face east and west. The male looks over the city to the east (the people) while the female looks over the River Mersey (Prosperity) to the west. Anybody who lives in Liverpool can look at the sky every day and see the Sun rise in the east and watch it follow it’s path right over the city before setting over the Mersey to the west, this is what the Liver Birds are depicting. They are honouring the sun and moon as they travel across the city.

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I mentioned Neptune earlier, Neptune was the name that ancient Romans gave to the Greek god of the sea and earthquakes, Poseidon. He was the brother of Jupiter (Zeus) and of Pluto (Hades).

Below is an image of the Liverpool Coat of Arms and look who features with his pitchfork along side our flying friends��.

The ambassador of Liverpool, the Devils brother himself, oh what a lovely tea-party.

Neptune features heavily in Liverpool, a stroll on a sunny day with your head up looking at the buildings architecture instead of down at your mobile phone will begin to open your eyes to your surroundings and you will see exactly what I am stating for yourself.

Church street in Liverpool city centre is very busy at any given moment of the week with hundreds if not thousands of shoppers and workers occupying the area unaware of what is directly above them on one of the most well known shopping buildings in L1. Mark’s & Spencer historically known as Compton House.

The masonry work on the building is impressive, as are many of the buildings in the city centre. Showing the fine craftsmanship of the people of Liverpool who will of built the buildings to the architects designs but they will not of realised what they were etching into the stone as they worked. Here you can see Neptune with his trident on top of Marks & Spencer. There is also another Liver Bird on the side of the building which is hidden inside a pyramid-like shape with an all seeing eye at the top of the triangle.

This is a good chance to look into some of the alpha numerical conversions of some of the words of interest after the topics we have just covered regarding the Liver Birds and buildings along with the city.

As we can see the word Liverpool comes out with a Reverse Ordinal of 119 which is 911 in reverse. We also see Reverse Full Reduction of 47, this is significant as the numbers add up to 11, but more references to the Twin Towers and WTC exist here as I mentioned earlier The World Trade Centre building 7 had 47 floors before being demolished. The Full Reduction of the word Liverpool is 52 which is also 5+2=7.

The 42 in Chaldean is a reference to the Rainbow which can only be viewed from 42 degrees by the human eye. This is why the LGBT community have adopted the rainbow as their logo as it is another mockery of Gods image and goes against reproduction process of human life. 4+2 is 33 and we know where we have seen that number before.

The next word I want to show you is liver as in the first half of the word Liverpool this is something I have been eager to get to, and as always I did learn a thing or two myself. So here goes with one of the most revealing parts of the article as it confirms Liverpool is under a spell and how we are caught up in a spiritual war that is unknown to the masses.

This is a cryptic corker if ever I have seen one and the numbers don’t lie. Straight out the bag we have 30 in the Full Reduction but Freemasons do not recognise the zero so this drops down to a 3 and 3 is the magic number which is a reference to the Holy Trinity and the Rosa Mystica which we will get back to later when we look at Nelsons Monument on the grounds of Liverpool Town Hall, and believe me it is loaded with 88’s.

Reverse Full Reduction of the word Liver gives us the number 33 which is not good. The Reverse Ordinal is 69 and this brings us to the 69/96 as above so below mirror. This is seen on every Masonic Lodge entrance and is symbolic of the Royal Arch. The number 96 has left an ever lasting pain on The City of Liverpool with the victims of the Hillsborough tragedy tallying up to the occult number. The diagram below shows the number 69 on the Royal Arch. Can you see the hallmark of the Freemasons all over Hillsborough? I can.

In case you wanted more information on the Royal arch, here is a screenshot from the Liverpool Group of Lodges & Chapters website which you can click to be directed to the page that explains all.

Here we can see a list of Masonic Lodges in the North West but look how many are registered in Liverpool that you know of but did not know they were riddled with Freemasons. Click the image to view more information.

To finish off on the word liver we have Chaldean 17 which is 1+7=8 which is a Saturn reference, I will cover that subject later on in the article but we end the numbers game on English Ordinal 66.

In Greek mythology, Prometheus was punished by the gods for revealing fire to humans, by being chained to a rock where a vulture (or an eagle) would peck out his liver, which would regenerate overnight. (The liver is the only human internal organ that actually can regenerate itself to a significant extent.) Many ancient peoples of the Near East and Mediterranean areas practiced a type of divination called haruspicy, where they tried to obtain information by examining the livers of sheep and other animals.

In Plato, and in later physiology, the liver was thought to be the seat of the darkest emotions (specifically wrath, jealousy and greed) which drive men to action. The Talmud refers to the liver as the seat of anger, with the gallbladder counteracting this.

The term “Talmud” normally refers to the collection of writings named specifically the Babylonian Talmud.

In other biblical and spiritual references the liver also signifies interior purification, for the liver purifies the blood, but the intestines purify those things from which the blood is derived. This denotes the good of the external or natural man, is because by the bullock, in which is this caul, is signified the good of innocence and of charity in the external or natural man (AC 9990).

Elsewhere the liver signifies the external good of innocence such as belongs to infants, because before the rest of the viscera have been fully formed for their use, which is the case when the infants are embryos, these are nourished through the liver, all the nutritious juice is brought there through the placenta and the umbilical cord from the womb of the mother. This juice corresponds to the good of innocence.

That this good is signified by the liver is evident in Jeremiah:–

Mine eyes have been consumed by tears, my inwards have been troubled, my liver hath been poured forth on the earth, for the breach of the daughter of my people; the infant and the suckling faint in the streets, they say to their mothers, Where is grain and vine? (Lam. 2:11, 12);

in this passage is described the grief of the vastated church; grief for destroyed truth is signified by the eyes being consumed by tears; grief for the destroyed truth of innocence, by the inwards being troubled; and grief for the destroyed good of innocence, by the liver being poured forth on the earth. Wherefore the infant and the suckling are said to faint in the streets, and they say to their mothers, Where is grain and wine? The daughter of the people for whose breach is this grief, denotes the church (AC 2362, 3963, 6729); eyes denote the things of the internal sight, thus the truths of faith (AC 4526, 4528, 9051); the inwards denote the truths of innocence (AC 3294); the liver denotes the good of innocence; for the infants and sucklings who faint in the streets, denote those who are in the good of innocence (AC 430, 3183, 4563, 5608); the grain and wine concerning which they say to their mothers, Where are they? denote the good of truth and the truth of good; grain, the good of truth (AC 5959); wine, the truth of good (AC��1071, 1798).

Do you understand this is why Liverpool has so much pain over the years? This is the reason we endure tragedies like Hillsborough, whilst the families have been forced to fight these Freemasons for Justice for the 96 for almost three decades.

It has been said before that you can’t knock Liverpool down and keep it down, the people will remain strong spirited through the darkest days and these people who initiate this pain on our city know this. They have us placed in an emotional loop of which they thrive on the negative energies it creates. Yes our city has had its good times but they have come at a price. The founders of Liverpool struck a deal with the devil in return for prosperity and the pain inflicted since has been the price to pay for success. it is coded into the name of the city it is in our faces day in day out. We live in the liver loop. The liver (spirit) regenerates the pool (people) after purification of the blood occurs (sacrifice) and it will go on forever (loop).

Occult Liverpool The Home Of The Wicca Man – Gerald Gardner

Such an occult region has got to have some well-reknowned occultists either living here or who have been famed for witchcraft on Merseyside. This brings us to the man who founded modern Wicca, Blundellsands born Gerald Brosseau Gardner, also known by the craft name Scire. Scire means ‘Know’ in Latin.

A craft name, also known as magical/magickal name, is a secondary religious name often adopted by practitioners of Wicca and other forms of Neopagan witchcraft or magic.

His birthplace may well be the reason occultist popstar Lana del Rey was so eager to visit Crosby Beach during her second stay at the city as she performed at the ECHO arena during the August Lunar Eclipse in 2017.

Born on Friday, June 13, 1884, Gardner had a very good chance of being a creep from day one. He is internationally recognised as the “Father of Wicca” among the Pagan and occult communities. Born into a middleclass family on Merseyside, Gardner was able to travel the world and gain a lot of information that most people would have no access to. After returning to England to retire, he Settled down near the New Forest, and joined an occult group, the Rosicrucian Order Crotona Fellowship.

Founded in 1920 by George Alexander Sullivan, the Fellowship had been based upon a blend of Rosicrucianism, Theosophy, Freemasonry and his own personal innovation, and had moved to Christchurch in 1930.

Another belief held by the group that Gardner found amusing was that a lamp hanging from one of the ceilings was the disguised holy grail of Arthurian legend. Gardner’s dissatisfaction with the group grew, particularly when in 1939, one of the group’s leaders sent a letter out to all members in which she stated that war would not come. The very next day, Britain declared war on Germany, greatly unimpressing the increasingly cynical Gardner.

Through the fellowship, Gardner, said he had encountered the New Forest coven into which he was initiated in 1939. Believing the coven to be a survival of the pre-Christian witch-cult discussed in the works of Margaret Murray, he decided to revive the faith, supplementing the coven’s rituals with ideas borrowed from Freemasonry, ceremonial magic and the writings of Aleister Crowley to form the Gardnerian tradition of Wicca.

Moving to London in 1945, he became intent on propagating this religion, attracting media attention and writing about it in High Magic’s Aid (1949), Witchcraft Today (1954) and The Meaning of Witchcraft (1959). He also Founded a Wiccan group known as the Bricket Wood coven.

On May Day 1947, Gardner’s friend Arnold Crowther introduced him to Aleister Crowley, the ceremonial magician who had founded the religion of Thelema in 1904. Shortly before his death, Crowley elevated Gardner to the IV° of Ordo Templi Orientis (O.T.O.) and issued a charter decreeing that Gardner could admit people into its Minerval degree. The charter itself was written in Gardner’s handwriting and only signed by Crowley.

Gardner hoped to spread Wicca, and described some of its practices in a fictional form as High Magic’s Aid. Set in the twelfth-century, Gardner included scenes of ceremonial magic based on The Key of Solomon.

Queen Victoria Monument

Liverpool Crown Court is built on historical land that was originally home to Liverpool Castle. On he grounds of the court we have the Queen Victoria Monument.

The Queen Victoria Monument is a large neo-Baroque or Beaux-Arts monument at Derby Square in Liverpool.

A large ensemble featuring 26 bronze figures by C. J. Allen (some in New Sculpture style), it was designed by F. M. Simpson of the Liverpool School of Architecture, in collaboration with the local architectural firm of Willink and Thicknesse and built of Portland stone. The foundation stone was laid on 11 October 1902 by Field Marshal Lord Roberts, Commander-in-Chief of the Forces. The monument was unveiled on 27 September 1906. It is a Grade II Listed structure, a preservation category for structures of special public interest.

I find it highly strange that September 27 is also the 270th day of the year, can you see what I see? Remember 9+9+9 is 27, 999 is 666.

There are four groups of figures around the pedestal, representing agriculture, commerce, industry and education. Among the figures representing education is a statue modelled on Sir Oliver Lodge. A large (4.42 metres (14.5 ft) statue of Queen Victoria is at the centre, centred in four groups of columns which support a baldacchino-like open dome (which Terry Cavanagh called the monument’s “least successful feature”). On top of the column groups are four allegorical figures representing justice, wisdom, charity, and peace. Atop the dome itself is a large figure representing fame.

In Greek mythology, Pheme (/ˈfeɪmeɪ/ FAY may; Greek: Φήμη, Roman equivalent: Fama), also known as Ossa, was the personification of fame and renown, her favour being notability, her wrath being scandalous rumors. She was a daughter either of Gaia or of Elpis (Hope), was described as “she who initiates and furthers communication” and had an altar at Athens. A tremendous gossip, Pheme was said to have pried into the affairs of mortals and gods, then repeated what she learned, starting off at first with just a dull whisper, but repeating it louder each time, until everyone knew. In art, she was usually depicted with wings and a trumpet.

In Roman mythology, Fama (“rumor”) was described as having multiple tongues, eyes, ears and feathers by Virgil (in Aeneid IV line 180 and following) and other authors. Virgil wrote that she “had her feet on the ground, and her head in the clouds, making the small seem great and the great seem greater”

Nelson Monument Liverpool Town Hall

Nelson’s Monument is another symbol of Liverpool that has esoteric undertones hidden within its design, just like the Twin Tower Liver Buildings. You can find Nelson’s Monument at Liverpool’s Town Hall.

The Nelson Monument is a monument to Admiral Horatio Nelson, in Exchange Flags, Liverpool, England. It was designed by Matthew Cotes Wyatt and sculpted by Richard Westmacott. It stands to the north of the Town Hall and was unveiled in 1813.

Wikipedia tells us some information about the design of the monument. Look at the numbers game in this.

The monument consists of a bronze statue on a stone base. Its overall height is 29 (11) feet (8.8 m 88), and the circumference of the base is 95 feet 4 inches (29.1 m 1191). The base consists of a drum-shaped pedestal in Westmorland marble 8 feet 10 inches (2.7 m 9+9+9=27 9×3=27 Sun Worship) high, standing on a granite basement 6 feet (1.8 m 18=666) high. Seated around the pedestal are four statues depicting manacled prisoners sitting in poses of sadness; they represent Nelson’s major victories, the battles of Cape St Vincent, the Nile, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar. Set into the drum between the statues are four bronze bas-reliefs depicting other naval actions in which Nelson was involved. Encircling the pedestal above the statues are swags of laurel hanging from behind lions’ heads. Attached to rings in the lions’ mouths are chains that descend to manacle the prisoners. At the top of the pedestal is a cornice with an inscription in metal letters reading ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY .

On top of the pedestal is a bronze group of figures 14 (14=77) feet 2 inches (4.3m 4=3=7 G on Masonic Compass = 7) high, each figure being 7 feet (2.1 2+1=3 trinity) in height, and forming a roughly pyramidal structure. There are five figures surrounded by the drapes and poles of captured flags, with an anchor and a rope on the ground. An idealised nude representation of Nelson stands with one foot on a cannon and the other on an enemy’s corpse, holding upright a sword on which Victory is placing the last of four crowns. To the right of Nelson is the figure of Death reaching out to touch him. On the left of Nelson is a British seaman striding forward. Behind Nelson is the figure of Britannia holding a laurel wreath and Nelson’s decorations.

The monument was the first item of public sculpture to be erected in Liverpool, and is recorded in the National Heritage List for England as a designated Grade II* listed building. Grade II* is the middle of the three grades of designation for listed buildings and is applied to “particularly important buildings of more than special interest”.

SPEAKING OF TRIANGLES – THE SLAVE TRADE.

200 Million Deaths

100 Million Native Americans Culled

100 Million Hebrew Africans Culled

Liverpool’s Rise And Shame Of Torture & Death

Another huge black spot on the history of Liverpool is indeed the slave trade. The slave trade held many dark stories but one I have always thought about is how slaves were thrown overboard during times of low food and illness. It gets worse as owners of the slaves then documented to have filed and won insurance claims for loss of stock. The atrocity was aboard the Liverpool slave ship, Zong. 133 slaves to the new world as they were called were killed in the Zong massacre.

Many factors led to the demise of slavery including revolts, piracy, social unrest, and the repercussions of corruption such as slave insurance fraud, e.g. the Zong massacre case in 1783. It was Liverpool born politician William Roscoe who spearheaded the anti-Slavery movement in parliament at the time.

Estimates of total deaths in the entire slave trade range from 50 to 200 million, but even the lower estimates qualify the transatlantic slave trade as the greatest crime in human history. (The Nazi Holocaust and Stalin’s Gulag Archipelago are the only contenders.)

On 3 October 1699, the very same year that Liverpool had been granted status as an independent parish, Liverpool’s first ‘recorded’ slave ship, named Liverpool Merchant, set sail for Africa, arriving in Barbados with a ‘cargo’ of 220 Africans, returning to Liverpool on 18 September 1700. The following month a second recorded ship, The Blessing, set sail for the Gold Coast.

Vast profits from the slave trade transformed Liverpool into one of Britain’s foremost important cities. Liverpool became a financial center, rivaled by Bristol, another slaving port, and beaten only by London. In the peak year of 1799, ships sailing from Liverpool carried over 45,000 slaves from Africa.

Slavery in British colonies was finally abolished in 1833 and slave trading was made illegal in 1807 though some slavery apprenticeships ran until 1838 (911). However, many merchants managed to ignore the laws and continued to deal in underground slave trafficking, also underhandedly engaging in financial investments for slaving activities in the Americas.

THE CURSE OF HAM UNLEASHED ON AFRICANS BY LIVERPOOL

The curse of Ham father of Canaan was invented by the Pharisees who were descendants of Cain. Cain was the biological son of Satan.

LIVERPOOL FOOTBALL CLUB

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Liverpool FC was founded on June 3rd, 1892 although first became a club earlier in the year on the 15th March 1892.

There are 96 years between June 3rd, 1892, and the day of the Hillsborough disaster – April 15th 1989.

From 3/6/1892, Liverpool founded, to 15/4/1989, Hillsborough disaster, = 96 yrs plus 96+96+96 days and 96+96+96+96+96+96+96 hours. (96 yrs and 316 days.), 96 dead.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2017/05/08/scary-forshadowing-exposed/

This is the weirdest thing you will ever see, the very start of me uploading videos to Youtube, and it is a very very very good date for us to look back over. It was march 15th 2014, in all its significance the ides of March. It was also the day Russia annexed Crimea. I was watching the football highlights program in the UK, Match of the day. A very big show, more so that night because Liverpool fc had played Manchester United, another of the top 5 well known and supported clubs in the land.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/ILLUMINATI-ALL-SEEING-EYE-SUBLIMINAL-SYMBOLS-FLASHING-ON-MATCH-OF-THE-DAY-BBC1-UK-IDES-OF-MARCH.mp4

Liverpool versus Manchester is watched all over the world. This episode of Match of the day will have been watched by millions as Liverpool fc were looking good to go on and win the championship for the first time in 22 years. They beat Manchester Utd 3 – 0 on the day after Getting 3 penalties, missing one at Manchester United’s Stadium, Old Trafford. Considering the support in all Continents for the teams images seen in the above video certainly got the job done, but what did it mean ”ALL ELITES LEAVE THE PLANET” or something?

As you can see there is a lot more to it than what meets the eye, excuse the pun!! A bigger pattern can now stem from this so let’s begin to look deeper.

It was 2015, the hit show Match of the day first aired in the UK 46 years prior on the 22 August 1964. We have a 64 46 mirror here. Liverpool Versus Arsenal was the first ever game to be shown.

I’ve always known the year the club was founded but Liverpool Shockingly enough I discovered the club was created on the date of March 15th of the year 1892 (1892 is 9/11). It gets deeper, we knew at the start of my investigation. Do you remember the date of the match of the day show from earlier and the running theme of the strange symbols.

March 15 is the 74th day of the year (75th in leap years) in the Gregorian calendar. There are 291 days remaining until the end of the year. In the Roman calendar March 15 was known as the Ides of March, and it was on this day that Julius Caesar was murdered. Next I calculated the days and years between the date of Liverpool fc foundation and the day of the spooky match of the day symbolism was it a secret birthday message.

From and including: Tuesday, 15 March 1892 (9/11) To and including: Saturday, 15 March 2014 (15 is 6 which is 33 the masonic number) Result: 44,560 days – we find the obama number 44 again and 5+6 is 11 It is 44,560 days from the start date to the end date, end date included Or 122 years, 1 day including the end date Alternative time units 44,560 days can be converted to one of these units:

3,849,984,000 seconds 64,166,400 minutes 1,069,440 hours 44,560 days 6365 weeks and 5 days

44,560 = 44 – 11

HOLY SHIT SHERLOCK IS LIVERPOOL F.C TIED TO PRESIDENT OBAMA AND JULIOS CAESAR AND 9/11 SURLY NOT – WELL CLEARLY SO.

The assassination of Julius Caesar was the result of a conspiracy by forty Roman senators, the self-styled Liberatores. They were led by Cassius (see links to Mohammad Ali) and Brutus. The conspirators stabbed Caesar to death in the Theatre of Pompey on the Ides of March, 15 March 44 BC (here we see the 44 number the Obama number). Caesar was the dictator of the Roman Republic at the time. He had been declared dictator perpetuo (dictator for life) by the Senate. This declaration resulted in many senators fearing that Caesar’s ambition was to overthrow the Senate in favour of a tyranny.

Next we take a quick look at the huge phallic symbol that was lit up in red for the Champions League celebrations in the city. The Radio City 96.7 tower formerly known as St. Johns Beacon is one of many phallic symbols in the city. You can see an image below where I have joined the tower up with a picture of a phallus at Vatican City, Rome. This is symbolic of Nimrods lost penis. This will be explained later on in the article

I agree with anyone who says it is just a common aviation control tower, but for these purposes and the energy needed for these rituals this is a blatant phallus.

It is not just me who can see these things in this city and here is a very awakened friend of mine, Bob Mizer, who posted this next information on Facebook hours before Liverpool’s triumphant victory that seems more staged the more we look at it.

Something else worth pointing out is how when we seen players on the back of the parade bus we only ever seen two players with the number 6 on the back of their shirts. We would see the two 6’s next to each other at all times and the bus decorations had the 6 trophies that the club have now won on their display. This was 666 on display all day to the world. Over 750.000 people attended the parade as mentioned and the YouTube footage alone from @LFCTV had around 200.000 viewers as it was live.

Another point I must make is about the royals. We can never get through an entire ritual like this without the Royals being coded into it somewhere. For example at the Manchester Arena bombing we had royal bloodlines coded in via the name of a park near a terror attack. The Queen Victoria Gardens. This is quite common. So I was not surprised when I looked at the date of the parade June 2nd and found it did line up to alleged nobility.

June 2 is the 153rd day of the year in the Gregorian calendar. 212 days remain until the end of the year.

The 212 days remaining are a 33 day, the 33 is mirrored by 2+1 and then the 1+2 giving us the two 3’s.

The Mirror date of June 2nd is July 31st. this is because July 31st is the 212nd day of the year. We may want to keep an eye out for an event on July 31st, 2019. But for now I am heading somewhere with this.

I mentioned the Royals and rightly so. This is because 66 years to the date of the parade we seen Queen Elizabeth the 2nd being crowned at her coronation. Here is a breakdown of the time duration between June 2nd 1953 and June 2nd 2019.

To ensure the mass ritual carried on in full flow, the next stage was set at Anfield for a nicely timed Take That comeback gig at the famous football ground on June 6th 2019, yes that 66 again, 6/6!

As I was taking the weeks events in like wow, wow, wow, I felt excited for the team I have supported all my life winning the 6th European Cup. But wow to how in my face all these synchronicities were. We really have been hammered this week. They have spirit cooked the living daylights out of us. Anyone with a basic understanding of the occult will confirm this to you with one look at this article if it is new to you.

Watch this video and look at the big screens, they are another fiasco hidden in plain sight.

I have no words for that big giant God of War behind Take that and Gerry Marsden at Anfield. Can somebody explain to me what it has got to do with Take That, Gerry Marsden, You’ll never Walk alone or Liverpool or shall I tell you what it is because it has nothing to do with any of the above whatsoever. The backdrop to the Take That and Gerry Marsden Satanic performance was a bad omen. Why would anyone want to show so many people so many bad omens all centered around one seemingly joyful occasion?

Here is some more articles of mine that show moons and Mars and why they are omens. Take note we have a blood moon due on around the 16/17th of July 2019. This follows Junes Summer Solstice on the 22nd when all the pagans and druids will be out in force as usual. If we see an uptick in animal slashings again this year such cat mutilations and horses attacked to obtain blood for rituals then we know who to blame.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2017/04/21/april-21-attack-warning/

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2016/10/02/black-moon-rises-lileth-ww3/

We have seen the number 6 ever since June 1st. What else can I dig out for you to highlight how this all works? Let us look at the number 6 a moment.

In the Bible, the number 6 symbolizes man and human weakness, the evils of Satan and the manifestation of sin. Man was created on the sixth day. Men are appointed 6 days to labor.

A Hebrew slave was to serve six years and be released in the 7th year. Six years were appointed for the land to be sown and harvested. The number 6 is also associated with Satan in his temptation of Jesus.

The bringing together of three 6‘s is the number and mark of the end time Beast of Revelation. As such, it represents the very best system of governance that mankind can produce WITHOUT God and under the constant influence of his chief adversary.

Man’s system on earth is made up of three parts (economic, religious and governmental) all of which are influenced and led by Satan. When 666 is multiplied by 7 it equals 4662, which depicts man’s total imperfection under Lucifer. When added across, 4 + 6 + 6 + 2 = 18; and 18 divided by 3 is 6.

6% Of 666 is 39.96, I find this interesting. I do not have to point out the 96 to Liverpool fans or people who understand 96 as meaning as above so below again but i will. Now what about that 39? 13×3=39. Jesus is linked by the 39 lashings he received during his crucifixion. Mars is said to be 39 million miles away. There are 39 members of the Bilderberg group. if we flip the numbers we which we relate to Aleister Crowley and his Thelema 93 teachings as well as the sun allegedly being 93 million miles away.

The 11.100% we got from dividing 666 by 6 left us with a 111. This gives us a 3 which is the number of the Holy Trinity. Symbol of the Trinity of God, One and Three times Saint. It represents the God-Father in the Holy Trinity. It symbolizes also the Sky.

According to the narration of Maria Valtorta, during of the bearing of the Cross until the Golgotha just like at the moment of his crucifixion, Jesus is escorted by 111 Roman soldiers: 1 commander, named Longin, 10 knights and 100 other soldiers. It is Longin who, having seen how Jesus had expired, declared “In truth this man was the Son of God” (Mk 15,39).

The popes John-Paul I and John-Paul II have been elected both by a conclave of 111 cardinals.

The magic square using the first 36 numbers is associated to the sun and has for sum 111. If we add each number up from 1 to 36 we get 666.

Can you remember when Liverpool beat Paris Saint Germain 3-2 in the group stages of the Champions League at Anfield? They were leading 2-0 only for PSG to drag it back to 2-2 before Roberto Firmino came of the bench to score a late winner days after hurting his eye and being deemed unfit to start the match? He covered his eye to mock an all seeing eye as his celebration. Roberto Firmino is covered in sigils as you can see on his tattoos. Research illuminati star tattoo meaning.

You can read my article about Liverpool F.C’s biblical transfers that no one noticed when I featured Roberto Firmino, Mo Salah, Sadio Mane and Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain here.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2017/08/30/liverpool-f-c-biblical-transfers/

Liverpool have reached 3 European finals in a row since Jurgen Klopp took charge and the German made it 3rd time lucky with the 2019 Champions League win after defeat in the final a year earlier to Real Madrid who are based in the city where Liverpool lifted their 6th European Cup. The semi-final draw last year was very dubious as Liverpool were drawn against Roma but the match seemed to be fixed from the start as Roma fans were sent emails with ticket and travel information for a tie with Liverpool before the draw had been made. I covered this last year. Here is my article below.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2018/04/14/roma-v-liverpool-draw-fix-exposed/

There is more than one team in Liverpool and this brings me to my next topic I want to talk about. The red/blue, Everton/Liverpool divide and conquer tactic used on the people.

You see, in Liverpool we are born boy or girl, (no offence to LGBT alphabet community intended) or a Liverpool or Everton fan. The success levels between the two clubs suggest it is the Evertonians who have been drawn the short straw when their allegiance is sworn for them by parents when they are young. The tit-for-tat between us Liverpool fans and Evertonians is outright childish and pathetic. It was out in force during the build up to the final with Everton fans resorting to placing Tottenham Hotspur flags outside their homes or even using Spurs club logos as facebook profile pictures.

Liverpool went on to win the cup and the Everton fans were sent into a frenzy very much with the opposing energy of that from the Liverpool fans. It drove them nuts watching us basque in our teams glory.

Everton’s iconic Rupert’s tower was vandalised by Liverpool fans who placed 6’s on the historical landmark that is featured on the Everton F.C club badge.

Evertonians retaliated by spray painting the word nonce on a wall mural of Liverpool manager Jurgen Klopp.

The problem here is the people doing it could not see the problem. In fact, they could not see the meaning of it all in the first place and this leads us into the merging of the red and blue to make purple and why that is important to the occult realm.

I mentioned bloodlines earlier and this is why. This is where I wanted to explain it to you because the red and blue is important.

There are many factors to the symbolism behind the colour coding around our two famous football teams whose stadiums are separated by just a park. The closest teams in the Premier League with around a mile between them.

Brothers, sisters, friends, lovers and colleagues all around the city have a common difference. Households are split in two by the red and the blue of Liverpool and Everton Football Clubs.

This now takes down another line of research that I have waited a very long time to explain properly all in one place and the city and teams we love provides us with the perfect platform for me to do just that.

Red and Blue is Fire and Ice, is that phrase familiar to you after the last 8 years of Game of Thrones? I thought so!

The red represents the sun and the blue is symbolic of the moon. Yes we have more sun and moon references but it gets deeper.

Sun and moon on a cloudy sky forming Yin Yang balance symbol

The Scarab Beatles

The Beatles are another gang of crafty string pullers and they are next on the page and boy are we going to have a good time with this section.

SACRIFICE & RITUAL DATES

March 11 – Creation Day – A blot is done in honor of the Creation of the world bo Odin, Vili, and Ve on this day (3/11=33). – Ken Dodd Death, 2017.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2018/04/03/ken-dodd-freemasonic-funeral/

March 15 – Ides of March – Caesar murdered 44BC (one month before the Hillsborough disaster, Fordica Roman festival) –

“The Reed Entered”. Its exact significance is uncertain (the reeds may refer to the river bank where Attis was exposed as a child and rescued by Cybele). A nine-day period of abstinence from bread, pomegranates, quinces, pork, fish, and probably wine began. Only milk was permitted as a drink.

Key events include the Christchurch Masacre in 2019. Also be sure to check out my true prediction where I named the date and place for the Ides of March 2018 bridge collapse after the Valentines day, Florida school shootings when I decoded that event.

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2019/03/30/christchurch-shootings-audio-enhanced/

March 22 – Hilaria (7 days after Ides of March) – Skull & Bones (322 3/22) – Brussels Airport Bombings 2016.

“The Tree Entered” (Arbor intrat). A pine tree from a wood sacred to Cybele is felled following the sacrifice of a ram at its roots. The tree was carried in procession through the city as if in a funeral to the Temple of Cybele on the Palatine Hill.http://enchantedlifepath.com/2018/02/10/winter-olympics-ritual-watch-s-korea/

http://enchantedlifepath.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/EXPOSED-Brussels-Bombings-322-Skull-Bones-3-22-Hilaria-Pagan-Festival-ANOTHER-SACRAFICE.mp4

March 23 – A day of mourning – The Salii, dancing priests of Mars performed their sacred dance and the mourning and fasting continued. Salii has also been also viewed as as marking the opening and the closing of the yearly war season. The opening would coincide with the day of the Agonium Martiale on March 19, and the closing with the day of the Armilustrium on October 19 (8 days after the Ides, 8 = 44, Saturn, Obama number)

http://enchantedlifepath.com/2018/03/24/trebes-ritual-three-evils-69-war/

March 24 – “The Day of Blood” (Sanguis). Frenzied rites including scourging and whipping. Castration rituals would take place on this day. The tree is symbolically buried.

March 25 – “The Day of Joy” (Hilaria) celebrating the resurrection of Attis. This was the hilaria proper (as opposed to the mournful tone of the previous days).

March 26 – A day of rest.

March 27 – “The Washing” (Lavatio). Added by Marcus Aurelius.

March 28 – Possible ceremony at the Vatican sanctuary. Appears in the Calendar of Philocalus.

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Liverpool History Liverpool History

Liverpool History – The Untold Story: Second City Of The Empire Decoded

Liverpool History: The Lost Twin of Babylon Liverpool History – You will learn more & have the best experience if you can find time to watch all the videos in the article along the way.

Liverpool History – The Untold Story: Second City Of The Empire Decoded Liverpool History: The Lost Twin of Babylon Liverpool History - You will learn more & have the best experience if you can find time to watch all the videos in the article along the way.

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itskindofapointlessblog · 6 years ago

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With the release of Lemonade on all streaming platforms I have some thoughts

Y’all forget that Lemonade isn’t just the title of the album. Lemonade serves as a metaphor for being served the worst situation possible and creating new life and new love out of it. Every piece of Lemonade as an album and a visual component is intentional and meant to be examined and digested in full.

The songs on Lemonade, while enjoyable as single listens, are meant to be experienced as a narrative (besides Formation. The only song existing without a chapter on the visual component and serves as a love letter to black womanhood and not related to Beyoncé’s marriage) Lemonade chronicles Beyoncé’s feelings of anxiety, anger, confusion, depression, and eventually forgiveness and redemption.

Songs like Sorry or Don’t Hurt Yourself, while enjoyable and valid, are not the defining nature of the album. No single song is. They are progressions of Beyoncé’s emotions as she unravels the truth about Jay Z and his unfaithfulness throughout their marriage. (Listen to Beyoncé’s entire discography. Becky isn’t one woman. Becky has been many women throughout their relationship. Beyoncé has always explored themes of infidelity and cheating, being referenced directly all the way from Bday to her self titled album Beyoncé, culminating in the masterpiece that is Lemonade ) Jay Z has spoken about how their therapy process and path to reconciliation started long before the release of Lemonade.

Everything didn’t crash down at once, this was a gradual progression over the course of their relationship that was likely dealt with and reconciled long before Lemonade or even the self titled Beyoncé album.

My point is that all songs on Lemonade are valid. All of Beyoncé’s feelings conveyed over the course of this album are valid. But don’t forget that the last song, All Night, encapsulating the final chapter of Redemption, is the capstone of the album that reconciles their marriage. She actually forgives Jay on the track Sandcastles during the chapter of Forgiveness. Forgiveness isn’t the last chapter because forgiveness does not equal redemption.

I am not discounting the validity of the previous chapters. But y’all like to pretend that the chapters existing after Emptiness don’t exist. They have not “gotten over” the infidelity. In the destruction of their past relationship, they have created one that is new. Beyoncé has chosen to metaphorically make “Lemonade out of lemons” and she and Jay have entered into a new era of their relationship. Infidelity is not the defining narrative of their relationship. Hope and Redemption, aptly named as the final chapters of the visual component, are what they have reached. Their marriage is not the same one they entered into, it is new and unique and the path they have entered is completely unlike the one they traveled down when they first married. Beyoncé and Jay Z love each other. Stop being angry on her behalf. Cause I guarantee she isn’t giving it 1% of the energy that y’all do.

Listen to Lemonade in full, listen to Jay Z’s 4:44, listen to their joint album Everything is Love (they’re literally saying everything IS love y’all) Go back and listen to Beyoncé’s entire discography. Infidelity is not their marriage. It’s a chapter. It’s a single narrative. It does not define them.

Beyoncé (or any victim of infidelity) was 100% not obligated to stay with Jay Z. Any choice she could’ve made (and she more than likely left him more than once lol) would have been valid. But Beyoncé and Jay chose together to work as a couple and reconcile. Respect their choice. Respect their marriage. Respect the empire they have built as one of the most powerful duos to ever grace the entertainment world.

#beyonce #lemonade #jayz #jay z and beyonce #everything is love #tidal #spotify #applemusic #streaming #jay z

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mbl17 · 6 years ago

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She Used To Love Him

Surviving R. Kelly has proven to be one of those documentaries that people can’t stop talking about. Executive Producer Dream Hampton succeeded in bringing R&B singer R. Kelly’s alleged questionable activities with underage girls and women to the forefront again in the #MeToo era. Now that this is a hot topic, Prince’s past relationships with two of his exes who were under the age of 18 (yet of the age of consent in their respective countries) are being re-examined. Writer Sezín (rhymes with Celine in case you care) Koehler penned a questionable opinion piece on Black Girl Nerds to misinform you all about it. (UPDATE as of 1/19/2019...the article has been rightfully pulled from the website).

https://blackgirlnerds.com/not-a-love-letter-to-prince-batman-album-on-30th-anniversary/

For what it’s worth, Rhymes With Celine is not a black girl. The half Lithuanian American and Sri Lankan author discusses how she planned to write a love letter to Prince’s 1989 Batman soundtrack on its 30th anniversary, but now in the wake of Surviving R. Kelly she can no longer love the album that once gave her life some much needed light. She also can’t love Prince anymore because of the (y’all ready for it?) ”horrific real life events that have come to light about Prince”. “Horrific” is Koehler’s word, not ours. She goes on to claim that he groomed both 16 year-old Anna Fantastic and Mayte Garcia and she’s absolutely sick about it. Don’t even think about bringing up David Bowie to her either. Interesting. Sezín Koehler claimed back on April 27, 2016 in a published Huffington Post piece called Happiness Is Purple: Requiem for Prince that our man provided the soundtrack to many of the rare happy moments of her life.

https://www.huffingtonpost.com/sezin-koehler/the-sounds-of-happiness-a_b_9765640.html

“The fact that Prince made it a priority to mentor, support, and promote the careers of so many women over these past decades is another testament to what a giving creative soul he was, and a rock’n’roll feminist. I can’t think of a single other male artist who gave legs up to as many women as Prince did, nor who boasted all-female bands like the Vulvalini-esque 3RDEYEGIRL. He was so ahead of his time it’s profound to begin putting his life’s work into this kind of perspective.

Like David Bowie, Prince’s sparkling fabulousness transcended social and cultural norms — especially in subverting notions of masculinity and its presentation — in such unique ways, it’s impossible to take a full measure of its and his depth and scope except to say that he was one of a kind and there’ll never be another person who reaches the bar he raised. We had a purple unicorn living among us all this time, and damn straight we knew and worshiped him.”

She also brings up the brilliance of the Batman recording and calls Prince a genius who she believed respected women by mentoring and supporting female talent. She mentions how he was just as fabulous as (y’all ready for it?) David Bowie. So you mean to tell us that an alleged lifelong Prince fan didn’t know the stories of Anna Fantastic and Mayte Garcia for all of these years? While she was fan girling for for David’s fabulousness, she was totally unaware that he had sex with a 14 year-old? Sezín Koehler was born around 1979 so definitely old enough to have witnessed the Mayte saga. So what gives? Is this really a case of a concerned fan looking at some of Prince’s decisions with a fresh set of eyes? Or is it that Koehler and the Black Girl Nerds website are like everyone else on the internet and will write for attention? I mean look at us! Anything is possible because the founder of Black Girl Nerds, Jamie Broadnax, landed flat on her face after her Universal FanCon event went down in flames due to financial difficulties while writers for the site went unpaid. Hitching your wagon to the scandal of the moment is a sure fire way to get some attention and click bait revenue right?

Now we aren’t here to tell anyone what they should or shouldn’t be outraged about. As much as Prince was a musical genius, a philanthropist, and our King of Shade, he was still a flawed human being. However you can find the details of Prince’s dealings with Anna and Mayte to be inappropriate without dropping him in the same category as R. Kelly. We watched all 6 parts of the R. Kelly documentary and if any of the things these women are alleging is factual, he’s a true predator and abusive monster. Don’t even get us started on R. Kelly’s 2008 child porn trial. Anna and Mayte have told us for years how they both felt adored and nothing but love from Prince. They’ve also been adamant that nothing sexual occurred until after they turned 18. Anna even popped up to tell Sezín that she got it wrong:

The only woman who has ever publicly accused Prince of any outlandish sexual behavior is Charlene Friend, who at her big age claimed that Prince was keeping women (not her!) in cages. None of this was ever proven of course and the story likely stemmed from Charlene’s anger at Prince stopping her from selling some nice gifts he had given her.

This wouldn’t be the first time that Sezín Koehler has taken a male musician to task for what she perceives as bad behavior. In 2013 she called out Robin Thicke for the lyrics to his hit song Blurred Lines.

https://psmag.com/social-justice/mouths-rapists-lyrics-robin-thickes-blurred-lines-66569

Koehler wrote that the song was a “rape anthem” that victim blamed at the same time. She proceeded to intersperse the lyrics with images of rape survivors who detailed how their attackers used statements similar to the song. We truly believe each survivor. We hate that we live in a world where so many people have these gut wrenching stories of being violated, but at the same time it’s a bit over the top to try and assume what’s going on in the mind of a songwriter because YOU don’t think Robin was asking for permission. So no consideration that the lyrics of Blurred Lines could also be the dirty talk between two consenting lovers? One would think that as a writer Koehler wouldn’t want to go down the slippery slope of having people presume what’s going on inside her head and slander her over a misinterpretation. Anyway, after receiving a proper verbal beat down with the facts from Prince fans,Sezín decided to lock up her Twitter until the heat is off. We guess she didn’t want that much attention?

#prince #Prince Rogers Nelson #purplearmy

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theladylikesfics · 6 years ago

Text

After The Storm Chpt 6

Lying as flat as possibly on the floor you heard the footsteps approaching, silently you commando slid on your bell across the dark cherry wood floor; stopping on when you heard the foot steps stop moving. You could hear him pause and watched as he circled around searching for you. Suddenly you popped up from behind Jin’s large desk in his office and shot him on the ass with your Nerf gun; squealing running away as he gave chase firing back. “AHH! Oh! You’re so getting it for that butt shot!” Jin called out after you as you two ran around the downstairs of your home playing with Nerf guns. “You gotta be quicker than that to catch me!” You yelled back laughing as you ran circles around the couch in the living room. The last month and two weeks of your life had been come a chaotic shell game. On the one hand it worked perfectly, you were able to work in peace without fear, you were slightly tired of knowing this was your life out of need not out of want. Wanting to lighten the mood Jin had left two Nerf Blasters along with a two hundred dart refills and a note ‘be prepared to battle!’; it felt as though the two of you hadn’t honestly played and had fun in forever and this was just the thing needed to relax and bring some true smiles and fun back into both of your lives. The two of you ran from room to room firing and laughing dodging and hiding behind all surfaces until Jin lost his balance running in his socks and slipped. “Oh shit! Jinni honey are you okay?” Jin groaned. “Babe come here quick I’m hurt!” you dropped your guns and rushed over to him as fast as you could; dropping to your knees to assess, he quickly pulled you in to his arms holding you in place with one arm while beginning to tickle you with the other. “Gotcha!” “No Fair! You cheater!” You squirmed and giggled writhing against him. “You never said I couldn’t cheat and just because I am a cheater I’m doing this.” Jin pressed his lips on the sweet spot of your neck and began blowing raspberries, causing you to shriek, and shrill in a high pitch whining for him to stop. “Jinni noooo stop I’m gonna get the hi-hiccups! Da-damnit Jin.” Hiccups having set in, Jin couldn’t contain his laughter or his grip on you. “Hmmph!” you got up off the floor haughtily ignoring Jin’s out stretched hand to help him up off the floor. “Yo-you got down there by yourself, you can get up by yourself. Hmmph!” “Ouch Babe. Ice Princess is in the house.” Jin said, his long strides quickly catching up to you, he pulled you close into him by your waist and planted kisses on the side of your face, ear and the top of your head. “I love you, you know.” He said, turning you around his arms looking down into your face. You tiptoed to kiss him, securing your arms around his neck pulling him down further kissing him deeply. A knock on the door interrupted you. Jin threw his head back in a half growl half groan. “This had better be important, I was about to get lucky.” “Oh. You think so huh?” You said with a smirk. “I know so.” Jin replied swatting you on the ass and following you to the door.

On the other side of the door was Seo, Song, Detective Park and Lee Hoon-So; you motioned for the four men to come inside. After offering and serving beverages you got down to the reason of the visit. “To what do we owe the pleasure gentlemen?” You asked; Detective Park spoke first. “We have some news and some good news.” “You caught this sick bastard and my fiancé is once again safe?” Jin asked “Not that good unfortunately but still good. We got the DNA results back on the blood that was used for the card and the pictures. We talked to each of those individuals and we’ve ruled them out as suspects.” “How!?” Both you and Jin practically yelled at the same time. “When we talked to them and examined the blood, we that the one thing they all had in common is that they had recently donated blood. The woman who is A+ is a sixty-year-old grandmother who’s only familiar with the band because of her grand children. We did a thorough sweep of her home and electronic devices as well as her whereabouts for the times and date you and your staff were able to give as. The gentlemen who is AB- donated is a forty-eight-year old businessman. A day later went to Busan to visit family before flying out to Singapore, where he’s still currently located. Again, full sweep of his home and whereabouts there’s no immediate connection to any of this. The young man who is O is a twenty-five-year-old intern at Asan Medical Center. He’s very familiar with BTS and the engagement; however, he loves your diversity initiative, thinks you’re absolutely beautiful and that Jin is a very lucky man.” You breathed a half sigh of relief; part of you felt better knowing there wasn’t three people plotting and conspiring against you, but still frustrated that no real information as to who was behind these attacks was known. “So, you’ve eliminated three suspects but still don’t know who’s terrorizing us?” Jin said tightly “We don’t have confirmation on a suspect but here’s the additional news. Being that all the blood seemed to have the connection of being a donation we asked if they had been a recent blood drive done; there was, so we went out to talk to the staff running the drive that day. They said that and the end of the drive there was twelve bags of A+, ten bags of AB-, and four bags of O, these are the bags that were already processed and ready to use; at the end of night when they were moving the bags to cold storage there were only eleven bags of A+, nine bags of AB- and three bags of O. They thought initially that the original count was just off; but as you know they collect the names of the individual and assign them a name and number for their donation. When they ran the names of the three individuals their numbers were there, but their donation was missing.” Your grasp on Jin’s arm tighten and you could swear you felt your pupils dilate. “Does this mean, you honestly have a suspect?” You asked, heart beat kicking up substantially as the thought of this nightmare finally coming to and end began to set in. “We are still tracking down every employee that worked the drive and had access to the donations after it was over, but this just might be it.” Relief flooded through you like a drug. You clutched your chest, dropping your head breathing deeply wrapping Detective Park’s words around you like a cloak. “Its really almost over Jin, its honestly almost fucking over.” You were near weeping, fragilely holding on to your composure; Jin wrapping his arms around you kissing the top of your head. “But that’s not all we found, and this is most solid and most definite.” Detective Park began, but I’ll let officer Lee explain. “The letter bomb that you received is very specific. Every bomber has a signature, something unique and special just to them; and in the event this isn’t the first time they’ve done it, it makes it that much easier to match up the signature for comparison. The bomb that you received is almost identical to bombs that were sent out in the year 1988. The bomber in that case was caught and convicted; but he was found guilty with a mental defect he was sent to the prison ward of a mental clinic where he served his time. He was released five years ago. This man, Jeong Hyung Soo, is the man we are one hundred percent looking.” Officer Lee slid a picture attached to a file across the table to you and Jin. Your skin ran cold as if all the blood in your body had suddenly frozen; a violent shiver wracked your body as you clutched into Jin’s side seeking his warmth. The image on the outside of a man balding, severely chapped lips, teeth broken and missing, face covered in a thick layer of black and white stubble. The flat black matte of his eyes reminded you of a great white shark, just shiny pebbles void of any emotion or empathy; a long crescent shaped scar accented the top of his head. “This is what he looked like when he was released five years ago, have either of you ever seen this man?” Both you and Jin shook your heads no. Opening the file, you could see what he looked like when he was first convicted. Smooth tanned face with a square jawline, thick full head of jet black hair, full pouty lips that may have even rivaled Jin’s, teeth perfect, no visible scar. Eyes still matte, lifeless and cold. “What happened, how did this man become this?” You asked, trying to fathom this level of decline. Detective Park began. “It started with an office dispute; something meaningless, casual office ribbing. Then apparently at an office party at a BBQ den the first victim Dong Ha, got drunk and started telling Jeong Hyung Soo just what he truly thought of him; two days later he received a letter bomb in the mail. Luckily for him he was looking away when he was opening the letter, his sister had called his name and he turn to answer as he was tearing it open. It cost him a portion of his left side of his face and his ear, but it saved his life. The second victim Ahn Jin-joo was a neighbor. They had apparently had on going disputes about everything. She was an older woman, but her home was known as a party house. From what police were able to piece together at the time she had thrown a party that had ran late into the night, Jeong had come over furious about it pounding on her door with a cigarette in her mouth; she immediately blew the smoke in his face then threw a cup of beer in his eyes in front of all the guest; including a few neighbors who were attending. Two days later a package arrived and sadly she did not survive. The third and fourth victims were a nurse and boyfriend. Jo Min Ja and Yoo Ji Tae, we believe this is a classic case of unrequited love. Jeong and Jo Min Ja had met a few times and had a few drinks, according to friends and family that knew her she made it clear that she was dating around looking for her right fit. Jeong had declared that he was her match. Yoo Ji Tae was a new doctor who was interning at the hospital Jo Min Ja worked in and according to co-workers said it was love at first sight for both of them. Jo Min Ja broke off seeing everyone, including Jeong; told him that she in fact had a boyfriend now. He couldn’t accept it, he would continue to come by the hospital where she worked bring gifts, flowers, food, he would stand outside of her home yelling her name; police were called several times. The night of the engagement party a gift was placed in the couple’s car. As they were driving it exploded. From what the coroner was able to determine at the time they didn’t initially die from the blast, but they lost control of the car crashing and dying. Their deaths were the ultimate connection between Jeong and the other two victims; also, the bomb he placed in the couples car somehow malfunctioned, detonating on its own, a portion of it stayed intact, they were able to match that up with pieces from the bombs and the familiar connections he was arrested.” You sat saddened and flabbergasted at Officer Lee’s report. “This man is definitely our bomber. I put my entire reputation that this is who we are looking for.” “You sure you’ve never seen this man before? I know you have a degree in psychology, did you spend any time at the Seobu Hospital?” Detective Park asked. “No not at all. I did all my interning with Seoul International University Hospital and the Lu Han youth services; I’ve never come across this man directly as far back as I can think.” “What happens now?” Jin asked, the visible tension still holding in his shoulders. “We’re currently looking for him. Since his release was just that a release and not a parole there was no need to keep tabs on him afterwards. It was recommended that he still see a therapist at the hospital at least once a week, but he declined and legally he couldn’t be forced to see one. We have a team now following up with the hospital, trying to track down any family members. The place he listed would be his place of residents after release was a flophouse and got shut down roughly seven months after he was released. Finding him is at the top of our list, we’ve got just about every available personnel combing the streets of where known felons are known to frequent post release.” “In the meantime, we will continue with protocol Ms. (Y/L/N)” Song added in. Taking a deep breath and sighing you nodded; trying to understand just how you felt about the situation.

Getting up from the table you flopped down on the couch as Jin walked the visitors out. Sitting down next to you he took your hands staring in your eyes. “Tell me what you’re thinking sweetheart?” He asked, thumbs tracing back and forth over your knuckles. “Honestly, I don’t know Jin. On the one hand I’m like great! We know something; on the other it’s like great I’ve got the attention of a serial bomber who’s maimed one and killed three. I still feel sick about it; for all that we’ve just found out I still feel like we don’t know anything Jin. I almost wish that they had waited for more information before they came here to talk to us. I’m just so fucking frustrated!” Your voice escalating; holding your head down clutching it, taking a deep heavy sigh. Jin took his hand and steadily ran it up and down your back. “I know baby, I feel the same way right now, I know how frustrating this is; I’m right here with you. I want nothing more for this whole ordeal to be over. I hate living in fear, I hate seeing you live in fear and the fact that this asshole wants to hurt you!” Jin’s voice broke, the emotions he’d been pushing down trying to bubble their way out to the surface. “I just want you carefree and happy again babe. I just want you relaxed and stressing out over clients or wedding planning with me. We haven’t even gotten to talk about what we would like to do for a wedding because of this bullshit. What should legitimately be one of the most mutually happiest times in our life with each other is fucking ruined right now. My girl should be able to look back at her engagement with the happiest of memories, not ones that make the bile rise up her stomach and make her want to vomit. Your joy is being stolen from you and I’m fucking furious there utterly nothing I can do about it.” The barrier that had been pushing down his emotions continue to crack break and wear down as he spoke. Big fat tears beginning to fall and run down his cheeks as his voice continue to escalate and crack “I only wanted to give you the world; give you every fucking thing that you deserve but instead I’ve given you creepy messages, photos of you covered in blood lastly almost your death. I almost killed you because I’m selfish and told you to stay. Every fucking minute that this goes on I’m reminded I almost got you killed.” Your eyes went wide and wild while your mouth hung open hearing Jin break down and seeing him sob. You had no idea that Jin was feeling guilty and responsible for the stalker; you knew of course that he was upset thinking it was the over all situation; but to hear that he personally felt responsible hurt you in a way you couldn’t adequately express in words. He sat there sobbing on the couch, hands on either side of his head crying, letting them fall freely on the hardwood floor. “Oh God, no, no no, Jin! Sweetheart no! Look at me.” You began, cupping his face wiping his tears ignoring your own that were starting and your nose that was already becoming damp. “Don’t you fucking dare feel responsible for this. You are so beautiful; do you know that? I’ve spent the last three and a half years with the most incredible soul. One that picked up a complete stranger in the middle of a storm, brought her to your home, took care of her and even put her to sleep in your bed. When she snuck out like a thief in the night the next morning, you went as far as to track her down and return her clothing that you personally laundered. You have loved me in a way that I was convinced only existed in the movies or dramas. You are a walking talking real life prince and you choose to love me. Plain ordinary me. You have made every single day of this relationship a pure pleasure. I think back to the night of our engagement and I’m still utterly speechless Jin. That night and that gorgeous scene that you created is embedded in me; I will forever remember that night as one of the most magical experiences ever. I’m so angry at you for thinking that this bastard has taken that from me, because I promise you he hasn’t. Nothing ever will. And I’m even more mad at you that you’ve been carrying around this guilt that you feel responsible. Jin, I know what I said about leaving and that wasn’t about us or even me, that was me thinking about keeping you safe, I don’t want anything to happen to you, I’m terrified that you’ll get hurt. That’s the only reason I suggested that maybe I should go. This was just me trying to keep you safe. You are not responsible for this at all Kim Seokjin do you understand me, and if I get any idea that you’re thinking or feeling this away again I’m going to kick your ass to hear me.” You finished with a laugh and sniffle, wiping his tears and then your own. Jin embraced you as tight as he could drawing you into his lap. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry sweetheart. I know that I’m not responsible, but I can’t help but feel that maybe its my fault and-” “Stop It!” You said cutting him off immediately. “This isn’t on me and it damn sure as hell is hot isn’t on you. That bastard probably shouldn’t have never been let out, but the police know who he is now, and they are going to stop at nothing to find him. This is truly almost over Jin.” Jin kissed you on your forehead, before resting his own against your shoulder holding you tight trying to gather himself. “I get to spend my life, with the most unbelievably amazing person. A man who every day makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the entire world. A man who goes out of his way to make me smile, take care of me, wipes my tears, and makes me orgasm to the point where I’m blissfully numb and feeling lighter than a feather. It is my absolute pleasure to be by your side Jin. No one or nothing could ever change that. Not some in their feelings ARMY, Antis, and damn sure not some insane dickhead. You and I sir, are a team; and together we are getting through this.” Jin held on tightly to her, her gentle scent of Moonstone and citrus soothing him and enbibed her strength. Jin honestly thought that he could feel her resolve flowing into him, fortifying his fragile nerves, erasing all the guilt he’d been harbouring, and easing his fears. She truly was a balm for his soul. Jin knew without a shadow of doubt that he could never be in love with anyone else the way that he was in love with her. She honestly made him a better man. “I love you.” Jin said meekly, feeling lighter than he had in over a month. “You sir, look as though you could use a bath, let’s go.” You slid off his lap extending your hand to him, accepting your offer; Jin happily let you lead him upstairs.

After leaving the condo of Kim Seokjin and (Y/W/N), Detective Park headed over to the hospital where the blood drive was held and went up to the floor designated for blood services. “Dr. Choi, thank you so much for meeting today on such short notice.” Detective Park began. “I’m here about the blood drive that you held a few weeks ago and resulted in some blood being missing.” “Yes, is this normally the type of thing the police investigates, missing blood?” Dr. Choi asked casually. “When there’s a theft involved most like, when the blood has been used in a wave of ongoing crimes and stalking, absolutely.” Dr. Choi dropped his pen as his mouth flew open. “Let me explain to you how serious this situation has become. The blood missing from your donations was identify in a crime. A young woman is being stalked and photos of her with messages written in that same missing blood delivered to her office. Now that same young woman’s life was threatened even further by having a letter bomb sent to her office that could have killed her and her staff. Now we are going to talk about each one of your staff members that were involved with the drive.” “Sorry Detective Park, I wasn’t aware at the severity of the situation, please excuse my earlier attitude. There were a total of ten people working the drive not including me. Three nurses, six phlebotomist and another doctor, Dr. Manning.” “Of those individuals you just stated did anyone seem preoccupied, or sketchy in any way, or anything seem out of the ordinary since the time after the drive?” Dr. Choi twisted his lips as if he were chewing on rather to speak his mind or not. “Dr. Choi, I assure you even if its just gossip or rumor mill you let me sort that out, but I need to know if anything is coming to mind.” Detective Park said with an added measure of sternness to his voice. “One of our nurses Min Ji Ho, she’s been a little erratic lately; she’s always been a little bit of an off girl but lately its intensified.” “What do you mean by that?” “She’s the type that keeps to herself. As nurse part of having good bedside manner is being able to talk to patience and their families and put them at ease. She’s the sort that’s very abrupt, comes off a little cool. But then there are moments where she just erupts with giggles and laughs and smiles and wants to talk to everyone; its just strange.” Detective Park nodded as he absorbed and jotted down all the information. “Also, she has been missing work more frequently lately, currently she hasn’t been to work in the last two days.” “One last thing before I go, and this may seem strange. Out of all the names you mentioned before does anyone seem really familiar with the group BTS, you know the K-Pop group?” With that, Dr. Choi took a deep breathe and stood up. “Could you come with me please Detective Park?” He said. Dr Choi led Detective Park to the nursing station and pointed at a desk. “Does this qualify Detective Park? Dr. Choi said gesturing to the desk. Detective Park’s eyes brows met his hairlines as the hair on his arms stood on end and his blood ran cold. On the desk was covered in photos of BTS members, but one in particular Kim Seokjin. “Excuse me Yuna, you share a locker with Ji Ho right?” Dr. Choi asked, stopping a nurse. Yuna shuddered involuntarily before speaking. “Yes, doctor I do, I wish I didn’t though.” “Do you mind showing this Detective the locker please?” Walking behind the wall of the nurses station to where the lockers were located Yuna opened up the locker, posted to the inside of it was a full-length picture of Seokjin with messages written on sticky notes stuck to it ‘my handsome prince’ ‘my one true love’ ‘only I can love you’ ‘you deserve only the best Mr. Worldwide Handsome’ ‘Mr. Worldwide Handsome is not for the world, Only for me’. Detective Park had never experienced a chill like the one he got standing before that locker seeing the images and messages in a handwriting that he’d burned on the inside of his eye lids. “I’ve got to go! Thank You for all your help Dr. Choi.” “Wait Detective, one more thing before you go. If it is Ji Ho you’re looking for good luck finding her.” “What do you mean by that?” “She’s a master make-up artist. She can literally make herself look like anyone or anything for that matter.” Yuna said. “She never really felt like a pretty girl, so she started doing her make-up to look like pretty girls. She’s gotten so good at it that she didn’t look like her I.D. badge and had trouble getting into the building. She had to create a password with the desk for the days that she didn’t look like herself. She’s really good, its not just make up, but she uses putty to change the shape of her forehead, nose, cheekbones and chin. She really could look like anyone.” Yuna finished. “Thank you. Both of you have been a major help today.” Detective Park rushed out of the hospital, into his car and raced back to Seoul Police Station. “Chief Tuan, I need a search warrant and arrest warrant now for one Min Ji Ho. She’s definitely our stalker. She had access to the blood, her behavior as of late has been erratic and most importantly her work station and locker are filled with images and personally hand-written messages to Kim Seokjin. I don’t know how she connected with Jeong, but I’m convinced this is who we’re looking sir.” “Park get a full team together, I’ll call for a warrant.” A little under an hour later a full team had been gathered led by Detective Park it included another Detective Lee Michael, Sergeants Yin and Yoon affectionate called YingYang and several officers, the full Emergency Response Team and the Bomb Squad were also assembled. “Listen up everyone. We are dealing with two very dangerous individuals. One we know for certain is a convicted murderer and bomber. The second more than likely is a mentally disturbed woman who from those around her has stated she can look like anyone. Going into this home we are bringing in all occupants. If they are in the home they are to be immediately secured, thoroughly searched and brought in for questioning until we figure out exactly who is who. I don’t need to tell you to be careful, but I will tell you be vigilant. We are dealing with a bomber and who knows what kinds of traps could be set up at this location. Everyone be safe.” Detective Park tighten his Kevlar vest before pulling on his double shoulder holster and leading his team out.

Several Hours Earlier

You looked over at Jin utterly bored out of your mind. Jin sat next to you on the couch all long limbs and broad shoulders, legs casually crossed watching an old episode of one of his favorite shows, giving off that full chuckle that always made you smile. “Jiiiinniiii” you began to whine flopping over his lap staring up at him. Jin reached down and trailed his fingertips over your face. “Yes Love, what can I do for you?” Broad full smile accented by pouty lips shined down on you. “Jinni, I’m so bored babe. So unbelievably bored. I feel like we’ve done everything these past couple of days, watched moves, listen to music, played games, and yet I’m still just meh” You said blowing a raspberry and giving a thumb down sign. Jin sighed softly, he knew that you were feeling cooped up. It was part of your own duality that he loved; for as much as you were a homebody, you loved to go out, see a show, catch a movie, dinner followed by dancing, or a nightcap afterwards. The weekends since the bombing it had been work, home and grocery shopping. The one exception was your weekly dance class. Jin hated keeping you in away from the social life that you loved but he feared you being attacked. “I Got It!” You shot up from his lap, drawing one leg under the other, turning fully to face him on the couch. “We’re having a kiki! I Can’t go out, So I shall bring them in!” Jin gave you a surprise quizzical look, you could see his rebuttal already forming. “Before you object, we’ll keep it small. We’ll invite the boys, Jackie, oooh! I can finally use this as an opportunity to introduce Tammy and Yoongi. Oh Babe it will be perfect!” You squealed with happiness clasping your hands under your chin giving a wiggle of joy. Jin saw the look of pure delight on your face and he knew he couldn’t deny you. He hadn’t really seen you look this happy in a while and he knew you deserved it. “What about food?” “Umm.. We can do homemade pizza and wings! The boys love it when I do that, plus they love making their own pizzas and my wing sauces.” “You had me at homemade.” Jin said standing up from the couch. “Come on sweetheart lets go shopping.”

Later on, the two of you stood in the kitchen elbows deep in ingredients. “After tonight, I don’t think I want to prep or clean another chicken wing in my life.” Jin said looking at you over his shoulder. “How the hell did I get stuck on the wings anyway?” “Well that because 1) I have to make the dough. 2) I have to prepare all the ingredients for the pizza, including making the three base sauces for it. 3) I have to make the sauces for the wings. 4) Last and certainly not least, I hate touching poultry skin, you know I hate touching poultry skin and you do it because you love me.” You blew him a kiss and wink making him giggle. Jin sighed. “You’re lucky you’re so cute and you’re right I do love you.” Jin winked at you and your stomach became full of butterflies. “Three years later and you still have that affect on me Mr. Kim.” “I better still have that affect on you.” Jin said with a full laugh.

Hours later the two of you were all set for the party to begin. With Bangtan living next door it didn’t take long for the guest to arrive. “Okay let me make sure I have everything,” you began looking over all the toppings and sauces. “pepperoni, sausage, mushrooms, onions, black olives, ground beef, bell peppers, jalles, grilled chicken, grilled pork chops, grilled steak, six different types of cheese, olive oil, classic pizza sauce, white sauce, BBQ, stuff so Tae can make his weird kimchi pizza.” You shuddered at the thought of the kimchi pizza. “Various seafood so Jin can have his seafood pizza. Maybe I should make fries…” Jin came sliding into the kitchen bumping into before placing a kiss on the crown of your head. “Babe we’ve got more than enough food, you don’t need to make fries.” “Yeah but what’s more classic than fries, pizza and wings.” You replied wiggling your eyebrows and giving him a huge cheesey smile. Jin sighed. “I’ll start peeling” “YAY!” Thirty minutes later all of Bangtan arrived along with Namjoon’s girlfriend Jackie. “Hey Guys! I’m so excited to see everyone.” You said, greeting them all with hugs and kisses. You grabbed Yoongi by the hand and led him to the couch. “Yoongi, let me talk to you for a second. I’ll be honest with you; I’m trying to set you up tonight. I have friend coming over, she’s cutes, cynical, sarcastic but really sweet. She’s kinda like a female you but with severely less rapping skills. Her name is Tammy and she’s the head of P.R for my firm. I think you two would be amazing together.” “Oh No, (Y/N) I don’t know if-” just then the doorbell rang, and you shot up to answer. “That must be her!” “Hey Bitch!” “Ugh hi, with your raggedy ass.” Tammy answered back. “Okay everyone, except Jin and Jackie, this is Tammy. Tammy in order that is Namjoon, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, and last but certainly not least this is Yoongi.” You gave Jin the signal and he gave Yoongi a little shove closer to Tammy. “Hi.” Yoongi gave Tammy a full gummy smile and you practically floated away. “Okay who’s ready to make their own pizza!?” You cheered. Leading everyone into the kitchen you pointed out all the toppings and sauces for the pizza. “Tae, I even got all the fixings for your weird kimchi pizza you like making.” Everyone in the kitchen who’d experience the horror of the kimchi pizza gave a collective shudder. “Hey! Its not that bad, its delicious.” Tae protested, offended everyone would mock his creation. “Who am I kidding though, I know why you’re all here, my homemade wing sauces.” A cheer erupted from the kitchen. “Okay, so here we go, the classic BBQ, spicy bbq, mustard sauce, honey mustard, buffalo, and everyone’s favorite, The Sweet Heat my famous sweet buffalo red pepper garlic sauce! The wings are already cooked with salt, pepper, sake, and mirin. So, all you have to do is pop a few in the air fryer to warm them up that way they stay nice and crispy then toss them in the sauce of your choice. The pizzas will only take five to ten minutes to cook depending on how thick you make your crust and I’ve got batches of freshly made crispy fries. Oh and of course we’ve got bottles and bottles and bottles of soju to wash it all down, along with beer and as always, a full bar! Let’s party y’all!”

“Everyone get into position and on my count. Detective Lee and I will knock on the door first see if anyone is home or answers the door. On my count rush the door and not a second before. Just in case it’s trapped on the other side of that door.” Detective Park gave his final set of orders before leaving the surveillance area near the home of Min Ji Ho. Casually approaching the front gate Detectives Park and Lee rang the door bell and waited; a static filled voice echoed out from the other side of the intercom “Hello, Ms. Min this is Detective Park and Detective Lee from Seoul Police Department we need to talk to you.” Static once again came from the intercom. On Detective Park’s signal members of the Emergency Response Team breached the gate and went charging for the front door flanking either side of the two lead detectives. Once more Detective Park made his presence known by pounding on the front door. “Min Ji Ho! This is the Seoul Police Department, we have a warrant to search the premises” They were greeted with silence; on his command the ERT team rammed in the front door and waited before entering. They cautiously entered the home looking down measuring each step taken, nervous to set off a potential trap; just then the back door slammed shut, members of the ERT charged forward making their way towards the back down. An explosion rocked the back of the house coming from the kitchen. Detective Park, Detective Lee and Sergeant Yin were flung against the side wall. The house was soon flooded with the remaining members of the ERT team coming in to check on those inside the house. Detective Lee tried his best to shake off the cobwebs from the blast, his vision blurry, ears ringing, he saw Detective Park’s mouth moving unable to make out what was being said he simply shook his head and closed his eyes, he just need to rest for a minute. Detective Park picked up Detective Lee and rushed him outside as quickly as possible to waiting EMS. “Detective Park are you alright, what the fuck happened in there?” Chief Tuan asked Detective Park quelled down the wave of nausea that threaten to disrupt his life at the moment, his head was pounding and wanted nothing more than to vomit and curl up on the cool tile of a bathroom floor, but he knew how important he needed to be at this scene; to be the one to catalogue whatever was inside that home to bring a young couple that reminded him so much of him and his wife peace. “I’m not sure Sir, we went in carefully, concerns about traps. Some one was definitely inside the house. We heard a door in the back bang shut, twenty seconds later the explosion.” At that moment a communication came over the radio “Suspects fleeing in an old brown conversion van, partial I.D. on the plates 2764 please be advise and on the look out” Anger overriding his bodily discomfort, Detective Park roared and kicked a trash can sending it flying. After the bomb squad had made a full sweep of the home, Detective Park, a slightly concussed Detective Lee, and Chief Tuan entered the home. “Chief, Detectives, you’re going to want to see upstairs” Officer Lee Hoon-So motioned for the men to him. Upstairs in a bare backroom, wall to wall images of Kim Seokjin and his fiancé. Photos of Jin from concert promotions, magazines, images taking from videos online and printed. One of the more disturbing images, a photo printed from the Dispatch interview the couple did, addressing their stalker, the fiancé’s skin painted over so that she appeared white in appearance, a picture of Min Ji Ho taped over her beautiful smile. On the wall incoherent ramblings confessions of love, need, want, bitterness and hate for Jin’s fiancé. “I want everything in this room photographed, documented, fingerprinted and collected.” “Chief Tuan, Detectives you’re needed downstairs, there’s something you need to see.” Sergeant Yan advise, standing in the doorway of the bedroom. In the basement of the home they found what can only be described as a make shift cell. A lonely dingy cot against a bare wall, a separated food tray, a sink and toilet against the opposite wall, a make shift metal door. On the opposite wall of the sink and toilet photos of Min Ji Ho, more plastered on the ceiling above the cot. In the middle of the room a large table filled with various bits of metal, wires, watch pieces, batteries and various powders. “This is a bomb making station if I’ve ever seen one.” Sergeant Nam of the bomb squad stated. “If you look here, this bomb was in the middle of being made, its not quite finished yet, but I can tell from the amount of powder weighted out and the number of connectors in place, this was meant to be huge.” “FUCK! We fucking had them and now they’re gone” Detective Park yelled again. “I want every available body on the streets looking for that damn van, Jeong Hyung Soo and Min Ji Ho! Anyone who’s not pertinent to the collection of evidence, ERT or the bomb squad I want them on the street and looking for those two now.”

The pop-up pizza and wings party was the best idea you could have had. Everyone had missed being together having fun and being carefree; the potential romance between Yoongi and Tammy made it that much more epic for you If this works out this heffa is going to owe me so big! You thought to yourself gleefully watching the pair help make each other’s pizza and sample their wing creations. Several hours into the party you all had just wrapped up an epic VLive episode of Eat Jin, in which Jin hosted a pizza contest. A prize was to be awarded for the best-looking pizza and the best tasting pizza. The pizza tasting was a blind testing and Jin choose you to be the taste tester. After nearly gagging to death on Tae’s bizarre sausage kimchi pizza, you had no choice but to declare Jin the winner for best tasting, after all he did use your favorite toppings for his creation. A knock on the door interrupted an epic game of Uno. “I’ll get it babe, don’t let Jungkook win!” Jin said getting up, kissing you on the forehead before answering the door. “Detective Park” Jin said wearily. “come in please.” Detective Park entered with two men unfamiliar to him. “(Y/N), can you come here babe?” You looked at your guests surprised. “Ahh, yeah be right there. Excuse me guys.” “Sorry to interrupt you two and you have company, is there somewhere we can talk more privately, this is important?” “Yes of course, Jin’s office is just behind us, I’ll go let our guests know.” You said walking back to where you group of friends still gathered playing cards. “Hey guys, the police are here for Jin and I, please stay keep having fun, we just need to find out what’s going on.” Rejoining the men in the room you sat down next to Jin opposite the visitors. “Sweetheart, this is Chief Tuan and Sergeant Nam of the bomb squad.” You nodded in agreement. “Okay, so what brings the Chief of Police, a member of the bomb squad and Detective Park to our home at nearly 10 p.m.?” You asked tersely. You didn’t mean to sound so short and rude, but your emotions couldn’t help it. It felt like you were finally having a night where you were able to forget about your troubles and have fun as a couple the way you once did and suddenly the killjoys arrived, popping your balloon of happiness and remind you what a depressing fearful state you actually where in. “We know who’s responsible for all of this.” Detective Park said, you sucked in a deep breathe, the air somehow feeling trapped in your throat. “What? Are you serious? Does this mean its over you caught the bastard?” Detective Park took a deep sigh and sadly shook his head no. The hope that was beginning to build in you quickly deflated as the you had on Jin’s arm got tighter. “Earlier today I met with a Dr. Choi, he was the physician heading up the blood drive. After interviewing him in depth he spoke to me about a nurse, Min Ji Ho, whose behavior lately has been erratic and unreliable. When we looked at her desk and locker it was evident she was well versed in BTS and that you Mr. Kim are her favorite. It was enough to get a search warrant for her home. When we got there someone was definitely in the home, once we entered there was an explosion and some one fled the scene in a vehicle. We do believe that Min Ji Ho and Jeong Hyung Soo are working together.” Somehow hearing those two names together gave you some sort of relief. They were no longer anonymous, they were no longer nameless, faceless terrorizers to you and Jin. “So, they got away.” Jin said bitterly. “Mr. Kim, we know how frustrating this situation still is for you and your fiancé, but we know who they are, we know what they are driving, and I’ve got every available police officer in Seoul looking for them.” Chief Tuan said. “What’s the connection between the two, is he a family member of hers?” You asked. “That’s not clear as of this time, we do believe he was staying there. There was this odd room in the basement of her home that looked like a makeshift cell, there was a table in the middle of the room filled with bomb making materials, the signature identical to Jeong’s.” Detective Park stated and confirmed by Sergeant Nam. “I’d like you two to be extremely cautious. This woman is more than just dangerous; she’s a master of disguise. According to her co-workers she never felt very attractive and as a result she became a master make-up artist including the use of putty to alter the appearance of her cheeks, nose, forehead and chin. The pictures we collected from her home look nothing like the picture on her work I.D. Be extra vigilant.” Detective Park stated. “Jin the premiere party is this weekend. If she could honestly look like anyone she could easily be there.” You said worried. Jin nodded, face tight, lips pursed together in deep thought. “We are currently working on a plan for that.” Chief Tuan said, “I’ve got my gadget guys working on something special just as a precaution.” “A precaution for what?” Jin asked. “I’m confident that they are plotting something the night of the premiere. I’m working on a tracking device just in case you two get separated.” “That won’t even be an issue, she’s not leaving my side at all that night.” Jin said flatly. “I’m confident that you would do everything to keep her close Mr. Kim but I agree with Detective Park when he says we need to be on the highest of alerts and awareness.” Chief Tuan said. You and Jin exchanged glances; and unspoken understanding of things changing, hopefully for the better. By the time the conversation with Detective Park, Chief Tuan and Sergeant Nam was over, your friends had already taken the liberty to clean up the extra food in the kitchen, wiping down the island and the kitchen table, everyone had a roll in the clean you noticed Yoongi and Tammy rinsing off the dishes and placing them in the dishwasher.

A scream of pure raged echoed and bounced around filling the van as it sped through the streets of Seoul, Min Ji Ho was enraged. Thrashing her body back, kicking her feet, flailing her arms and screaming. Pure rage filled, angry from the depths of her core screaming. “HOW! HOW! HOW DID THEY FIND ME!!!” She bellowed. Jeong Hyun Soo nervously tightened and released his grip on the steering wheel as he drove into the industrial area of Seoul, driving down a back alley towards the bay door of a warehouse; quickly he got out opening the door, driving inside and closing the door behind them. Min Ji Ho continued to rage, throwing things, kicking over a makeshift shelf that held various paints cans, cleaner, bottles, old magazines and old scraps of cloth. She couldn’t understand how she had been discovered, she turned her fury and raged to Jeong Hyun Soo who had been standing silent watching flinching every time a new item went clattering to the ground. “You Promised ME!” Min Ji Ho screeched. “You said that you would get rid of that thing for me! You said that you would do everything for me! You said you would fix it! That bitch is still there and now, NOW the police are looking for me and we had to blow up my house!” She ran up to him, tears streaming down her face, mewing and whining to Jeong. “You promised me you would make it all better…” she cooed, her lip and chin quivered as she looked up at him, resting her face in the palm of his large hands. “I promise Min Ji Ho, I’ll make you happy again.” The first time they had met, Jeong Hyun Soo barely noticed Min Ji Ho; but then she came as she had ever so often with the resident physician and he saw her, his lost love, Jo Min Ja. Looking at her, he confessed to her immediately; how much he loved her, how much he missed her, how sorry he was that he had hurt her, he never meant to hurt her only that man that claimed he could love her more than he did. He blurted out everything to her. Min Ji Ho simply smiled at him and patted him on the cheek. Jeong knew in that moment he would do any and everything to be with her. Five years later after being released he was assigned to a group home that was too much. It was too loud, too dirty, and he wasn’t used to having to share his space with another person. He thought about killing the men he shared the room with everyday. Fortunately for them a small electrical fire in the kitchen area resulted in the fire department being called and the group home being unfit. He wandered around the streets of Seoul for weeks lost, and then if by some miracle he found her. She was sitting at an outside table of a café eating, he slowly approached her, mumbling unsure of what to say really hoping she would recognize him. She gasped at his appearance, startled, clutching her purse ready to bolt. “Jo Min Ja…” He mumbled, he saw the flash of recognition in her eyes as she motioned for him to sit, she remembered him, he smiled his broken teeth smile and sat down across from her. “You look hungry, here eat the rest of my gimbap, I’ll order more.” Her voice was sweeter than honey water, he knew he would be forever in her service.

You laid in Jin’s arms, one of your R&B playlists drifting around in the background, neither one of you were tired or wanted to focus on the tv, you just laid in bed listening to music; every so often Jin would place tender gentle kisses to your temple, gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “Jin?” “Yes Sweetheart?” “I’m really not sure how I’m suppose to feel now. I know before when we had a name I was upset wishing we had known more when the police first told us about Jeong, but now knowing that its not just him but some deranged woman, who may I add, can look like anyone is involved, I’m just not sure if I should be feeling some sort of relief or what right now.” You slipped out of the security in his arms, bringing your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Jin sighed heavily, everything you’d just expressed he was also feeling. He wasn’t sure if he should be feeling happy that the police knew who was responsible for upsetting his life, threatening his woman, and worst of all attempting to kill her. He wanted to feel better knowing that names and faces responsible for all his turmoil would be caught soon, but for now he couldn’t; they were still on the loose, still a credible threat to his family and their wellbeing. Jin took a long look at her, her lower face tucked behind her arms, everything from the nose up being visible, her eyes a little sad; he sat up in bed, turning his body to fully face her. He gently untucked her limbs from the human ball she curled herself into and lifted her chin to meet her eyes before leaning in to give her a kiss. “Hey, listen,” Jin paused, weighting out exactly what he wanted to say to her, knowing she needed comfort more than anything in these moments. “I understand how you feel right now. I’m relieved that we know who’s responsible. They are no longer anonymous, we don’t have to jump at unknown shadows anymore, instead we know the face of one of them; the other might be a little harder but she’ll be caught too. For now, I don’t want you to worry about it.” He said smiling fondly at you. “All I want is for you to think about what we will be wearing this weekend. I have a confession to make; I plan on matching you. Whatever color dress you choose I’ll have on a suit or a shirt that matches your dress. We will be the most gorgeous couple on the red carpet, naturally, and I know that it may take some time for you to make a dress decision and I probably should have told you this a few weeks ago to give you more time to plan but…” “Kim Seokjin! You would wait until four days before a red-carpet event to tell me you planned on matching me. I’m not even sure I’m wearing which is why I planned in being in the streets all day tomorrow…” Jin smiled contentedly watching you rant, hands flailing to and fro, his plan to distract you working as he intended. Truth be told he’d already ordered your dress as well as his tuxedo to match it over a month ago, it was to be delivered tomorrow. Jin gently tackled you laughing, rolling his body on top of yours, he slid his lips across yours gently, your mouth opening as your tongue flicked out and licked his lips inviting him in. Pressing his full lips against yours, he caressed the inside of your mouth before sucking on your tongue. You moaned in his mouth and Jin’s cock twitched; he was well aware that just about everything about you turned him on, but there was something about you moaning that just drove him crazy. Your moan was the ultimate praise kink to Jin, you sounding like you were having the ultimate pleasurable experience because of the things that he was doing to you, made everything hard, his nipples, his cock, even his balls tighten. “I need you, I need to please you.” Jin hungrily took your mouth pulling you up in the middle of the bed, he kissed the outline of your jaw down to your collar bone as he took his time sliding up the tank top you were wearing. Kissing the area of your cleavage and along the inside of your breast, “Tell me how to please you tonight, please.” You moaned. This was needy Jin. Every so often Jin would get in these moods where he would become a total submissive in the bedroom; he wanted you to completely control him, he going above and beyond to please you not achieving his own physical pleasure until you commanded him to. You raked your nails through his hair before grabbing the back of it pulling it exposing his neck. “Mmm. Does Mr. Kim need me to tell him how to make me cum tonight?” A deep shiver of pure anticipation ran through Jin. “Please.” His pupils were fully dilated, his cock hard and pulsing pressed against his thigh. “Undress me Jin.” You gave your first command and heard the sigh of pleasure come from him; quickly he finished removing your tank top and silk shorts. “On the floor, kneeling back against the bed, tilt your head back.” He licked his lips slowly, getting into position a look of pure wonderment spreading across his face. “Now I’m going to straddle your face. If you do a good job and make me cum, I might just reward you.” “Yes Miss.” You got into position on the bed, squatting over his face you saw him lick his lips greedily before lowering yourself on to them. You’d done this before and you both knew no matter how much he wanted to taste you, he would wait fully until you gave him the command. Deciding to tease him, you undulated your hips, rubbing your womanhood over his lips, his nose bumping against your clit a gentle moan slipping from your lips. You felt Jin’s body tremble underneath you, all of his restraint being tested as you used him to your pleasure. Spreading your hips farther apart, you continued to bump your clit against Jin’s nose, you gripped the bedsheets tighter as you felt your pleasure building and building; a sharper deeper moan escaped from your lips; you felt Jin’s body complete tense under you. Your orgasm was so close you felt the familiar wave and clench in your lower stomach as you continued to grind on Jin’s face. “Jiiiin. Lick!” You whined out, your thighs beginning to tremble, Jin’s hands immediately flew to your hips, his thumbs finding their familiar placemarks as his tongue dove into your wetness. “Oh, Fuck Jin!” You came instantly, his hands squeezing your hips, the stimulation to your clit, the swirl of his tongue inside your hole. Your body bucked against the assault to your wet heat, Jin’s tongue was relentless probing every inch of your cavern, lick, curling, swirling his tongue deep into, through your orgasm and after it was finish. You were bordering on overstimulation, Jin wouldn’t stop until you told him to, but you couldn’t form words. Jin was a fucking carnal animal. His face was engulfed with the feel, and scent of your wet lust and he was aching to be apart of your pleasure, he loved being used as your dildo, it was the most sinful, hedonistic, filthy, dirty sexual thing that you would do to him and he absolutely craved it. The smell of you was driving him insane, his arms were twitching by his side, as the soft crescents of his fingernails were digging into his palms. Then your essence actually dripped out of you and landed on his lips, his entire body stiffened with need, he wanted nothing more and to take a full lick of his lips and taste the gift you gave him, but he couldn’t risk it. He knew protocol when you were in control and he needed you too much tonight to risk being punished and getting denied. When you finally allowed him to taste you he was pure savage beast. He couldn’t get enough of you in his mouth, gripping your hips pulling your dripping wetness into his mouth, he plunged his tongue, maneuvering it in every possible way he could imagined. He sucked on your lips gathering up every sip of your ambrosia, he pulled you down further on his mouth so that he could wrap his full plump lips on your pearl. Your body bucked and shuddered in his arm as your chorus of ‘fuck’ became his favorite song. Jin growled in your pussy and you screamed. You were on your third orgasm and you didn’t know how much more you could actually take. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist holding you firmly to his face and he just would not stop his attack. He was completely enthralled with the taste of you and he was determined to drink every drop. “Jin Stop.” You whined out breathlessly body still quivering and convulsing in his arms, the aftershock from your third orgasm still singing through you. You felt his chest rise and fall underneath you, his hot breath on your lower lips making you shiver. Jin felt the pre-cum flowing freely from the head of his cock, he couldn’t remember ever being this hard and this worked up, the realization of his heavy swollen cock making him groan hard. “Jin fuck me and take your reward.” You barely manage to speak out, you were still trying to catch your breath when he spoke. “Permission to speak Miss?” “Yes Jinni?” you replied breathlessly, hands still clutching the bedding. “May my reward be tasting you some more?” “You felt him smile against your lips.” “Oh Hell No!” You scrambled out of his grasps and towards the opposite edge of the bed, still naked and quivering. Oh, he’s trying to fucking kill me, he’s not going to fucking eating me and orgasming me to death. He’s bussing that nut that he has and I’m putting me to sleep I’m tired! Fuck his mouth though… A shiver ran through you. “Matter of fact, clean me up, take me to the shower.” Jin stood up, his full erection peeking up through the top of his boxers, walking over to your side of your bed, he collected you his arms, before turning around and walking you into the bathroom. Jin carefully placed you down on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower. “Strip.” Your mouth water watching the fullness of his erection bob up and down as he stood there in front of you. “Now take us inside.” Following orders, Jin carefully picked you up from the counter and walked the two of you in the shower and watched you. You licked your lips before bending down and taking him in your mouth, relishing the taste of him before the water rinsed it away. Fastening your lips around the full mushroom of his tip, you swirled your tongue around the contours of his head and slid the length of your tongue over his slit. A keening whimper slipped from Jin’s lip and you felt him tense afraid his reward would be taken from him. Standing up you smiled at him. “Now, I do believe that I said, ‘fuck me and take your reward’” Jin looked down at your smirking before lifting you up pressing you against the shower wall and sliding deep inside of you. The moan that sang from your core sounded through the bathroom. Jin had already set a steady pace, pounding into you; the feeling of him sliding in and out of your tight pulsing wetness, the hot water drumming on your skin, Jin tweaking your left nipple, the overstimulation was too much. You came quick and hard, jerking in his arms, your body sliding up and down the tile as Jin continued to thrust deeply inside you, his own pace quickening as his moments lost some of their fluidity. “Hold on tight to me.” Jin growled out as you tried your best wrap your arms around his neck. You leaned in and bit gently on the lobe of his ear; you felt the sharp intake of air from him as hot jets of cum painted the inside of your walls. After Jin thoroughly emptied himself inside of you, he took his time washing you from head to toe, as you leaned against the shower wall, eyes fluttering, barely able to stay awake. “Come on baby, let’s put you to bed.” Jin said with full smile and gentle chuckle before kissing you and taking you back in his arms to carry you to bed. He sat you down on the ottoman as he made the bed, you smiled curling up to watch him; you were asleep before he was done putting on the fresh sheets.

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