#Right Wing Coup Attempt

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

A reflection on last week.  :::  April 10, 2023

Robert B. Hubbell

             Tonight, I offer a reflection on last week—and a suggestion about how we must respond. We went into last week expecting the news to be dominated by Trump's arraignment. It was—until the GOP-controlled legislature in Tennessee expelled two young Black Representatives for protesting briefly in the well of the assembly. We then received the report of Pro Publica outlining the manifest corruption of Justice Thomas by Texas millionaire and Hitler memorabilia collector Harlan Crow. And then Judge Kacsmaryk issued a thinly disguised religious fiat banning mifepristone for women across America.

         Each of the above events demonstrates the GOP’s efforts to achieve its goals by breaking the democracy that guarantees their liberties in the first instance. But we must now add to the sad litany a new item—Governor Greg Abbott’s pre-emptive announcement that he will pardon a Texas man convicted of murder after a jury trial. At trial, the defendant was able to present his argument that he acted in self-defense. The jury rejected that claim and voted unanimously to convict him of murder.

         Why does Abbott believe that he is justified in pardoning the murderer even before appeals have been heard? Abbott is, after all, substituting his judgment for that of the jurors who heard the evidence first-hand. Abbot believes the defendant is innocent of murder because he killed a “BLM” protester.

That’s right: Governor Abbott has established a new rule that laws do not apply equally to people protesting police killings and right-wing extremists who are upset by the protests. In a single act, Abbott has altered the law in Texas, demoted protestors demanding justice to second-class status, and told Texas jurors that their voices do not matter when MAGA extremists are on trial. In short, “self-defense” is a MAGA “get out of jail free” card under Greg Abbott’s reign in Texas.

         Together, these four instances illustrate a strategy the GOP learned from Trump: If the democratic system does not produce the result you want, then break democracy to obtain a different result. That is what the Tennessee legislators did to Justin Jones and Justin Pearson, that is what religious zealots did to all Americans, that is what monied interests did in bending the Supreme Court to do the bidding of the privileged and elite, and that is what Greg Abbott has done in summarily overturning a jury verdict that flies in the face of the facts.

         We have been confronting this asymmetry from the very moment Trump announced his bid in 2016, and it has worsened over time. As Democrats toil within the system to forge compromises over competing policies, Republicans break the system to get their way. They simply ignore it (McConnell on Merrick Garland’s nomination), they deny it (outcomes of elections), they falsify it (fake electors), they rig the judicial system to guarantee assignment of cases to a sympathetic federal judge (Kacsmaryk), and they attempt to stop its operation through violence (J6).

         There have been scattered calls for Democrats to employ similar tactics. Indeed, some are calling for the federal government to ignore Judge Kacsmaryk’s order if it is not stayed by the 5th Circuit or the Supreme Court. To state the obvious, to do so would amount to “breaking democracy” simply because we don’t like the result. We must not give in to the temptation to adopt the GOP’s anti-democratic tactics. We must fight our battle of resistance from within the walls and ramparts of democracy if we have any hope of saving it.

         The truth is that the rule of law continues to exist in America today because one of America’s major political parties remains committed to upholding that rule—despite the efforts of the other party to destroy it. If both parties feel emboldened to ignore the rule of law, our democracy will be gone. All that will be left is a contest of brute force in which dark money will substitute for violence.

         I do not believe we will reach that point. I have faith that Democrats will do the right thing despite legitimate feelings of anger, hurt, and despair. In each of the four situations described above, there is a democratic path forward to correct the result. It will not be easy, and we may not succeed entirely. But so long as we have a path forward, we should not set aside our great charter and the laws that give it life. It has endured for more than two centuries during equally trying times; we can make it through the present challenges, as well.

+

[from comments]

Overall, MAGA Republicans are revealing who and what they are. During the mid-terms, Democrats pushed back against an anticipated red tsunami and vastly outperformed expectations. Perhaps the ongoing MAGA performances will convince even more voters to shut them down.

Jessica Craven's latest post in "Chop Wood, Carry Water," celebrates many recent victories. She also writes that the two Tennessee lawmakers who were expelled can run in the special elections for their seats, and if they win, they cannot be expelled again. As for the other ugly instances cited here, I can sympathize with the anguished plea, "what does it take?" that most of us uttered during the long years of the Trump regime. Read Jessica Craven's post from today to understand that there are reasons for optimism.

https://open.substack.com/pub/chopwoodcarrywaterdailyactions/p/extra-extra-april-9th

We are being forged by fire to get as tough as our opponents and as clever. We already outnumber them. We are inspired by the courage of Ukrainians in their fight for their democracy and their lives. We are inspired by the heroes of our own Civil Rights movement that is ongoing. We are inspired by the turnout of the Israeli populace and even its military members that caused the Netanyahu regime to blink. We are being called upon to dig deep, stay tough and committed and resist even though we are tired.

Tomorrow is another day. Let's get on with the work.

[Gary S.]

[reasonsforhope]

Stewart Rhodes, the founder and leader of the Oath Keepers, was sentenced to 18 years in prison on Thursday for leading a far-reaching plot to keep then-President Donald Trump in power after he lost the 2020 election.

A second Oath Keepers member, Kelly Meggs, the leader of the Florida contingent of the group, was sentenced to 12 years in prison.

The sentences are the first handed down in over a decade for seditious conspiracy.

“What we absolutely cannot have is a group of citizens who – because they did not like the outcome of an election, who did not believe the law was followed as it should be – foment revolution,” District Judge Amit Mehta said before handing down the sentence. “That is what you did.” ...

Mehta said Rhodes, 58, has expressed no remorse and continues to be a threat...

Earlier on Thursday, Mehta ruled that Rhodes’ actions amounted to domestic terrorism.

“He was the one giving the orders,” Mehta said. “He was the one organizing the teams that day. He was the reason they were in fact in Washington DC. Oath Keepers wouldn’t have been there but for Stewart Rhodes, I don’t think anyone contends otherwise. He was the one who gave the order to go, and they went.”

Rhodes was convicted of seditious conspiracy by a Washington, DC, jury in November in a historic criminal trial that was a test of the Justice Department’s ability to hold January 6 rioters accountable and validated prosecutors’ arguments that the breach of the Capitol was a grave threat to American democracy.

The seditious conspiracy charge has rarely been brought in the century and a half that the statute and its forerunners have been on the books...

US Capitol Police officer Harry Dunn, who testified earlier this week about his experience on January 6, told CNN that Donald Trump should be “next.”

“It is a step towards full accountability,” Dunn said. “[Stewart Rhodes's] lawyers argued that Donald Trump is the root of the problem, and I totally agree. Let’s get him next.” ...

CNN National Security Analyst Juliette Kayyem said the sentencing should have a “chilling effect on these groups,” especially as the presidential election season begins.

“This tough sentence is going to make the Oath Keepers, the Proud Boys, all these organizations, it’s going to make them more difficult for them to recruit and, as important, for them to raise money,” Kayyem said...

Rhodes, who was accused of leading dozens other individuals in a coordinated plot that culminated in the January 6 siege, was also found guilty of obstructing an official proceeding and tampering with documents.

Of those that Rhodes led, 22 have already been convicted of various federal crimes by a jury or guilty plea. Eight, including Rhodes’ codefendant Meggs, were convicted of seditious conspiracy.

-via CNN, 5/25/23

[all-socialism-is-democratic]

"How seriously should we take “Project 2025”? Isn’t this all just the abstract raging of feverish minds? Just empty threats far removed from any chance of implementation? Mostly just a messaging effort intended to placate and mobilize a frenzied base? If only.

'Project 2025' is evidence that the American Right has concrete plans and a detailed strategy of how to take over and transform American government into a machine that serves only two purposes: Autocratic revenge against the “woke” enemy – and the imposition of a reactionary vision for society against the will of the majority."

[queerism1969]

[disk-and-horse]

Hate to be a doomer on main but i think trump surviving an assassination attempt is just about the worst thing for the left politically. an assassination attempt in general is going to cause brain-dead liberals to sympathize with him and his fascist followers to go nuts but at least if he was dead he'd be...well, dead. and therefore politically non-viable.

i think rn we have to hope for an infection or something. or that his followers get whipped up into a brownshirt frenzy and try to do a bunch of hate crimes and/or a coup. which, like, would be bad for all the obvious reasons but might cause enough bad press to snap some centrists out of their wiemar-ass idiocy. and i don't think his supporters are competent enough to either do a large-scale decentralized genocide or coup the government.

and obviously things are not going well when you're hoping for political violence from your enemies! so. things are not looking great

[heart2heartroses2u]

This is where America 🇺🇸 is heading if Trump is to win the 2024 election. The signs are all there. Don’t be blind and dismiss it. Once your democracy is lost, it will be hard to get it back. #vote-blue, to preserve our democracy and rights

[wilwheaton]

s far as we can tell right now, the man who tried to assassinate Donald Trump was a registered Republican gun enthusiast. As more details emerge, the image will clarify. Assassins are individuals, and their motivations can sometimes be surprising or turn out to be obscure and debatable. At this point, it is just worth noting that it would not be surprising if the man who tried to assassinate Trump was, like Trump, a right-wing radical. That would be typical of the United States, where most terrorist acts come from the far right. It would also be historically normal. Trump, like extreme-right-wing politicians in the past, has legitimated violence. Nothing in recent American political life resembles Trump’s call for “Second-Amendment people” to kill Hillary Clinton, his mockery of Paul Pelosi after an attempted murder, his belittling of Gretchen Whitmer after a kidnapping attempt, the stochastic violence he directs against critics to intimidate them and against his fellow Republicans to keep them in line, the brutal language of his rallies since 2016, his vocal admiration for leaders known to be mass killers, and his violent attempt to overthrow constitutional rule in January 2021. What matters more than the action, though, is the reaction. We should all condemn political violence. We should all proclaim that this next election will be settled by the number of votes, rather than by threats, coups, beatings, or murders. The media should not spread messages of hatred and baseless conspiratorial thinking.

Political Violence - by Timothy Snyder

Timothy Snyder is a globally respected expert on Fascism and authoritarian movements. He’s very much worth listening to, always.

[fuckyeahmarxismleninism]

The Bolivian masses flooded the streets of La Paz and sent the military packing, crushing an attempted right-wing coup.

It CAN be done. We CAN win.

[mesetacadre]

88 years ago today 4 fascist generals attempted a coup d'etat on the Second Spanish Republic. The right wing had lost the February elections to the United Front, made up of almost all of the left parties in the republic. This failed coup d'etat turned into the Spanish Civil War, during which the western democracies abandoned the republic in tacit approval of the reactionaries, and after which the 40 year long fascist dictatorship was protected by the US and NATO for the sake of anti-communist repression.

Fascists do not care about election results, bourgeois legality is only useful to them for as long as they can exploit it. Liberal democracies and popular fronts are not inherently anti-fascist either, they have consistently shown a preference for fascists and other reactionaries. The only viable opposition to fascism has always been the revolutionary organization of the proletariat with the communist party, advocating for anything less is naive at best and active collaborationism at worst.

[qqueenofhades]

I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.

So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.

Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.

Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)

In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.

Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.

[pgummie]

Btw I feel like I probably don't have to say this but DO NOT BELIEVE ANY OF THE SHIT MUSK SPEWS ABT THE BRAZILIAN TWITTER BAN.

We do not live in a dictatorship, and justice Alexandre de Moraes was not trying to censor anyone. This whole thing started because the Brazilian court ordered twitter to take down accounts that were spreading political misinformation during the elections, hate speech, and were also responsible for stoking the fires that lead to the attempted coup in September.

These were not just right winged accounts exercising their right to free speech, they were CRIMINAL accounts. Musk not only refused to delete these accounts, acusing Alexandre de Moraes of trying to "censor" them, he also refused to pay the fines that he received for refusing to comply with Brazilian law. To avoid these fines, he fired every single employee from the Brazilian branch of twitter and closed it down. No international company is allowed to operate in Brazilian soil without a legal representative here that can answer for the company, this is what lead to the twitter shut down in Brazil, judge Alexandre de Moraes gave Musk an ultimatum and once again he did not comply, thus twitter is now illegal in Brazil.

Another thing that this whole situation brought to light is that Starlink, a company owned by Elon Musk, is essential to the Brazilian military for a number of things, all of wich are extremely worrisome given that this is a private company owned by an american who has been aiding a foreign military without public knowledge for years now. And of course, this partnership started during Bolsonaro's presidency (far right fascist responsible for thousands of deaths during covid). Starlink is also behind a number of other horrible things, including aiding in the genocide of Brazilian indigenous people, so needles to say their involvement with our military is extremely worrying, especially considering the fact that this whole situation with twitter has also been labeled as a clear attempt by Musk to undermine and destabilize Brazil's democracy.

TLDR: do not trust anything this monster has to say, and to any American possibly reading this, please vote consciously in the coming election. Sadly, the results of the election in America also majorly impact the lives of people around the world, and Brazil has been in a fragile state ever since Bolsonaro lost the last election. Your vote does make an impact, do not let it go to waste.

[moltengoldveins]

so we can all agree that the newest 2WEI song (take the crown) is the trailer song for an Antarctic Empires Emerald Duo pg14 movie where Techno is a gladiator who earned his freedom and has vowed to destroy the government that enslaved him and Philza is an old demigod banished to a solitary plane of existence for five decades after attempting to run a coup against the ruling class.

They meet on a battlefield, Techno having joined up as brute muscle and Phil having used some minor illusions to pass as a quirky avian and join the bombardment team. Combining some similar plot beats as Oceans 11 and Atlantis: The Lost Empire, they gather a specialized team of insurrectionists, anarchists, battle mages, and warriors to take down the imperium from the inside, eventually planning on restoring the nation to the democracy it was in Phil’s earliest memories. But will they manage it, or will their bloody pasts and violent present seat Technoblade on the throne as the Antarctic Emperor, with Philza as his right hand, the Angel of Death? (Spoiler, the second option. It’s the most controversial film finale decision of the decade.)

The movie is filmed in a style somewhere between Dune 1, the Prince of Egypt, and Topgun. (denis villeneuve is too busy and too expensive, but it’s clear they’re taking inspiration. Bold colors and lighting and a lot of shots of the sky, wildlife, architecture, or of characters’ hands.) It’s scored by an up and coming indie musician, working under the consultation of Ludwig Gorannson in his spare time as a pet project, though his association with the film doesn’t really come out until it Smashes the expected theatre income in the first two days of release and critics start Raving about it. Techno’s actor is nominated for an Oscar for one of the most compelling intricate portrayals of ptsd and platonic devotion in modern cinema, but doesn’t actually get the Oscar.

Tumblr is flooded with gif sets of Techno in the Obligatory No Armor After Gladiator Fight Scene and the Late Night Vibing With Phil In A Loose Poet Shirt scene (firelit, lots of closeups of his eyes, the film is obviously attempting to express his complex emotional state and his deep relationship with Phil, and is failing miserably at doing Anything but making him hot. The internet is ✨gay✨ about it, because when is the internet not?) Also most of the simps are calling Phil a dilf.

Fit MC is the fan-favorite side character, his four scenes and nine lines of dialogue are clipped and edited and giffed and memed into the dirt. (His armor and prosthetic, the makeup and costuming department say, were the hardest thing to do in the entire film, which is why he isn’t in too many shots.) Though, a close second is Niki, who is played by a woman built like a brick house who doesn’t wear sleeves, so…. Yeah. We all know what the response is there. The effects, including Phil’s wings, are almost entirely practical and the only real places it gets iffy is Steve, the giant war polar bear that’s pretty clearly clipping through a few snowbanks here and there. Nobody can agree on which characters are morally reprehensible.

Within a few years, very few people outside a dedicated fan base have seen it and a few assume it’s made up like Goncharov. It’s also, for some ungodly reason, been labeled a Christmas film. (most of the plot happens in the ice and snow, hence ‘Antarctic Empire.’) I guess nothing says ‘Christmas spirit’ quite like ‘unmitigated violence, platonic yearning, and overthrowing oppressors.’

[mariacallous]

Until she fled Bangladesh on Monday, Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina governed as if she still had full legitimacy, even as students and protesters had been on the streets for days asking her to resign. The trigger for the demonstrations—civil service job quotas for Bangladeshi freedom fighters and their families—had become a distant memory. Collective anger about years of human rights abuses, corruption, and rigged elections had coalesced into an uprising.

In a conversation over the weekend, Zonayed Saki, the left-leaning leader of the Ganosamhati Andolan party—himself a student activist against military rule in the 1990s—said, “The people’s sentiment is that she has to go first. The government had lost moral and political legitimacy.”

Hasina believed that she was elected democratically. She won an unprecedented fourth term in a flawed vote in January, which most of the major opposition parties had boycotted and the United States, the United Kingdom, and human rights groups criticized for not being free or fair. Still, other major governments congratulated Hasina on the victory. The bureaucracy, the media, the police, and the army were on her side. What could go wrong?

Over the weekend, Hasina declared a curfew again, cut off the internet, and encouraged the youth wing of the ruling Awami League party to take to the streets. Trigger-happy security forces, who were blamed for the deaths of more than 200 people as the protests turned violent in mid-July, were out in full force. Nearly 100 more people died over the weekend, including 14 police officers; video emerged showing security forces shooting point-blank at nonviolent protesters.

Hasina spoke darkly of Islamists spreading terrorism by co-opting the protests, but the students remained undeterred. A long march was announced for Aug. 5 to demand her resignation. Hasina declared a three-day public holiday in response. But by midday Monday, she had resigned, fleeing the country in a helicopter. The first stop would be India and after that an unknown destination.

Meanwhile, the situation on the ground has turned volatile amid the power vacuum. Thousands of demonstrators rushed to the Ganabhaban, the prime minister’s official residence in Dhaka, looting souvenirs and frolicking on the premises. People have also reportedly attacked the home of Bangladesh’s chief justice. There are also reports of the toppling of a statue of Hasina’s father, Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, who led Bangladesh’s independence movement and then ruled the country until he was assassinated in 1975. Mujib’s family home, now a museum, went up in flames in an act of grotesque retribution. These incidents stand in contrast to the disciplined and peaceful demonstrations led by students, who have urged for calm and were seen appealing to the looters to return stolen property.

Bangladesh’s army has called for calm, but it has not yet intervened. The country’s armed forces overthrew elected governments in the 1970s and 1980s and attempted coups in later years. But now, the generals would naturally want to play it safe: They cannot afford to lose the confidence of Bangladeshis and are aware of the deep distrust that Bangladeshis have developed for the armed forces because their political interventions have weakened the country’s democracy.

There is another calculation at play, too: Bangladesh is among the largest suppliers of soldiers to the United Nations peacekeeping forces, and it won’t antagonize the international community by letting its soldiers act at will. (Those peacekeeping arrangements mean the armed forces are less reliant on Bangladesh’s state budget.) In mid-July, when military vehicles with U.N. insignia were deployed on Dhaka’s streets, foreign diplomats rightly complained; Bangladeshi officials gave weak excuses and promised not to use U.N. equipment to settle domestic unrest.

Hasina seemed to have two options: to seek a graceful exit or to dig her heels in and let the troops take all necessary means to protect her regime. In the end, she fled. Where she will settle is unclear. India would pose problems for Prime Minister Narendra Modi; ruling party politicians have routinely criticized undocumented Bangladeshis in India, even creating legislation to identify and possibly deport them. The United Kingdom may be risky for Hasina because while it hosts many Bangladeshi immigrants, they include dissidents forced into exile during her 15-year rule as well as supporters of the opposition Bangladesh Nationalist Party.

Had Hasina dug in, there would have been bloody consequences. Even if the army had shown restraint toward the protesters, there is no telling if Bangladesh’s notorious border guards or the Rapid Action Battalion—which has faced criticism from human rights groups—would have acted responsibly. There has been violence on both sides, but it has come primarily from the Bangladeshi state. As of Monday, as many as 32 children had died, according to UNICEF.

By stepping aside disgracefully, Hasina leaves chaos in her wake. It is crucial that any interim administration restore order quickly, but it can only do so if it has the backing of the army. A list of bureaucrats, civil society veterans, and others who might form the nucleus of such a government has been released, but the situation is too fluid to consider such lists final. In the early 2000s, Bangladesh had an unelected but legitimate caretaker government to help assist its transition to democracy after a military intervention—which it did, paving the way for Hasina’s election in December 2008.

Hasina has long demonized Bangladesh’s Islamist political forces. But Islamic fundamentalist parties have secured more than 10 percent of the vote only once, in 1991; in all subsequent elections, their vote share has been closer to 5 to 6 percent. Most Bangladeshis are Muslims, but they aren’t extremists; in Bangladeshi American poet Tarfia Faizullah’s famous words, when a Pakistani soldier assaulted a Bengali woman in 1971 and asked her if she was Muslim or Bengali, she defiantly said, “Both.”

The song accompanying many videos of the protests last week was from the pre-Partition poet Dwijendralal Ray, a Hindu, celebrating the golden land of Bengal. To see Bangladesh in binary terms—of Muslim or not Muslim—shows a profound misreading of a complex society. It reveals the myopia of external observers, notably analysts close to the current Indian government, who had invested hugely in Hasina and irrationally fear that an Islamic republic is the only alternative to her rule. In so doing, they frittered away some of the goodwill that India had earned in Bangladesh over the years, particularly for its support during the liberation war.

As a result, the current situation in Bangladesh will complicate things for Modi, Hasina’s close friend. His government had invested hugely in their relationship, aiming to build a trade corridor across Bangladesh and seeking Bangladeshi support to curb separatism in northeastern India. This alienated India from Bangladeshis, who expected New Delhi to defend democratic forces in Dhaka. Nobel laureate Muhammad Yunus, whom Hasina condemned and called a “bloodsucker of the poor,” chided India for not doing enough: South Asia is a family, he said in a recent interview, and when a house is burning, brothers should come and help.

With Hasina fleeing, India has lost an ally it thought it could rely on. The road ahead for Bangladesh will be difficult. Expectations will be high, and the people will want early elections. If those are free and fair, a different Bangladesh can emerge. Whether it will be consistent with the liberal, secular, democratic ethos that Bangladesh’s founders fought for remains to be seen.

[contemplatingoutlander]

"I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore!" --Howard Beale (Peter Finch) in Network (1976)

The above quote from Network sums up what I'm feeling right now. With their decision on presidential immunity, the far-right SC justices shredded the Constitution, and paved the way for Trump to become a dictator if he is put back in office. The above article goes into detail about the liberal justices' dissent. This is a gift🎁link if you want to read the full article. Below are some excerpts:

The Supreme Court’s three Democratic appointees railed in dissent against the conservative majority’s ruling that former President Donald J. Trump has some immunity for his official actions, declaring that their colleagues had made the president into “a king above the law.” Writing that the majority was “deeply wrong,” Justice Sonia Sotomayor added that beyond its consequences for the bid to prosecute Mr. Trump for his attempt to subvert the outcome of the 2020 election, it would have “stark” long-term consequences for the future of American democracy. “The court effectively creates a law-free zone around the president, upsetting the status quo that has existed since the founding,” she wrote, in an opinion joined by the other two Democratic appointees, Justices Elena Kagan and Ketanji Brown Jackson. Insulating the president of the United States — the most powerful person in the country and possibly the world, she noted — from criminal prosecution when he uses his official powers will allow him to freely use his official power to violate the law, exploit the trappings of his office for personal gain, or other “evil ends.” “Orders the Navy’s Seal Team 6 to assassinate a political rival? Immune. Organizes a military coup to hold onto power? Immune. Takes a bribe in exchange for a pardon? Immune. Immune, immune, immune,” she wrote, adding: “Even if these nightmare scenarios never play out, and I pray they never do, the damage has been done. The relationship between the president and the people he serves has shifted irrevocably.” [...] Sometimes justices conclude their dissents with a softening and polite qualifier, writing “Respectfully, I dissent.” Justice Sotomayor instead concluded this one harshly: “With fear for our democracy, I dissent.” [color emphasis added]

________________ Video source for gif

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SEVENTEEN

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Now that you have regained your memories, you and Bian must set off in search of allies.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: hey…how y’all doing…sorry this chapter is so blech it’s a little transition thing so that the next arc can finally start in full LMAO i don’t really like it but it does what it has to

You threw the book away from you, earning a surprised squawk from Bian. She flapped her wings and drew back, the feathers of her crest standing on end in an attempt to look intimidating before smoothing down as she realized there was no imminent threat. Then, she cocked her head at you, cooing in confusion.

“That half-witted, self-involved, traitorous excuse for a person!” you said to her. “That — that — well, he is lucky I’ve only realized who I am now that I have already run away, or else I’d march to the palace and kill him myself!���

The Princess of the Earth Kingdom. The Princess of the Earth Kingdom. That was who you really were. The Soldiers of Agni had not been the ones to destroy the wing of the Earth Palace, you had. They were not the ones who had been vastly outnumbered in the face of opposition, you were. And the royal family of the Earth Kingdom had not entirely been killed during the coup, because you were still alive.

But — but did that mean Kuei was dead? Had they gone into Ba Sing Se and found him and murdered him? Your dear brother…there was such a low chance that he would’ve survived on his own, and an even lower chance that he would’ve escaped notice. Not with his bumbling, innocent worldview. Not with Bosco constantly at his side, drawing attention without even trying. Not without any way to defend himself, no bending or weapons or guards to speak of.

Then it had been meaningless. You had given up your life for nothing. Kuei was dead. The Avatar was dead — or, if he was not quite yet dead, then he would soon fall again at Princess Azula’s hands. Ba Sing Se had been conquered by the Fire Nation, and all the while you had been lounging around in the palace of the very country that had stolen your home, attending its school and befriending its people.

“Ursa,” you seethed, getting up and pacing restlessly, the ground shaking with your every step as your long-suppressed bending flared to life and ran wildly out of control. “A prisoner of the Earth Kingdom’s. Hilarious. Hilarious. Tortured for Fire Nation secrets! What a great story, huh, Bian? Lifted directly from Seven Soldiers of Agni, I’d wager! And all the while, I was his prisoner, and I didn’t even know it! I — I spoke so kindly to the person who ordered my execution…”

The ground stopped shaking as your anger faded, replaced with a bout of the mourning you had not yet been allowed to feel. Mourning for your brother, who you would never see again. Mourning for those days you had spent with Lee and Mushi, which were the few in which you had truly been happy. Mourning for your subjects, who were now in the grasp of the Fire Nation, likely under even more oppressive conditions than before.

“What can I even do now?” you whispered, though you had no illusions that anyone would answer. There was no Quynh to advise you this time. You had to do it yourself. You had to make the decisions.

Yet, you had attempted such a thing before, hadn’t you? You had tried to do the right thing back in the Earth Palace. You had sacrificed yourself to save your brother, to buy your kingdom time, but you had been ultimately unsuccessful. The only decisions you had ever made for yourself had been the wrong ones. So how could you be sure that the next ones you made would not be more of the same? How could you be sure when there was such a high probability that you would once again choose incorrectly?

“I am lost,” you admitted to Bian, a tear rolling down your cheek, followed by another, and then another. “I am utterly lost. I have nary a clue where to go next.”

Bian blinked at you. She was the only one around who you could talk to, but of course, you should not have expected her to be able to talk back. She wasn’t a spirit in the way of Quynh. She was just a regular, if not spectacularly bred and incredibly intelligent, bird.

There was no point in dawdling about hopelessly. Once the sun rose properly, Jia-Li would awaken and realize that you were gone for good. And then — and then you could expect the worst. There was no way that the Fire Nation would allow you to live, not now that you knew your true identity. There was no way Prince Zuko would allow you to jeopardize him like that. You had only this one night before the royal forces were sent after you.

“I have to find allies,” you said as you attempted to calm yourself by recounting the supplies you had brought with you.

It was the most important thing. If you wanted a chance at retaking your kingdom, then you needed people on your side, people who had the strength to back you up in that endeavor. A few days ago, the only allies you could claim to have had were Jia-Li and Ty Lee, but the situation had changed drastically, and now, they could both be considered nothing but enemies.

Your best chance lay in finding Katara, Sokka, and the rest of the Southern Water Tribe forces. Although their fleet was nothing magnificent, it was at least a starting point, one which you desperately needed. From there, you would take their advice into consideration as you tried to figure out a way to regain your kingdom from the clutches of the Fire Nation.

You slept fitfully, restlessly, awakening often and gazing up at the moon before uneasily convincing yourself to rest for just a little longer. The effect was that by the time the blazing sun began to rise in the cloudless sky, you were no less exhausted than you had been when it had set.

“We must be off,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder and whistling for Bian, who had flown off some minutes ago to hunt. When she did not appear immediately, you whistled again, holding out your arm for her to perch on. “Bian! We hardly have the time for this!”

There was a furious shriek, and then Bian tumbled out of the air, one of her wings bent at an awkward angle as a raven eagle dove after her with claws outstretched. Although she could not fly, she still snapped at her foe, her fearsome beak bloody around the corners, a streak of red upon the raven eagle’s breast where she must’ve been able to catch him.

“Bian!” you shouted, racing over to catch her and holding her to your chest as the raven eagle pulled out of its dive, too cowardly to face a foe so much larger than it. It screeched at you in contempt before soaring up out of the forest and out of view. You ignored it, setting Bian on the ground and using the ends of your sleeves to wipe at her beak. “Why would you do that? Why did you challenge that awful bird?”

Bian offered you her leg. At first, you thought she was trying to show you another injury, but beyond her broken wing, she seemed to have escaped the scuffle unscathed. Seconds later, you realized she was clutching a rolled up scroll tightly in her claws, only relinquishing it when you pressed on it with your pointer finger.

“Where did you find this?” you said. It was sealed with the stamp of the Fire Nation military, though you doubted that that raven eagle had any association with the army. Likely it had intercepted some official communications, and Bian, who had after all once been a Fire Nation bird, had attacked him for the treachery.

There wasn’t much written on the note, but for you, who had just regained your memories, it was yet another foundation-shaking statement.

The Avatar lives. Alert the Fire Lord immediately.

The Avatar was alive. Aang was alive, and he must’ve hale, for such an urgent letter to be sent off to the military, which meant that there was hope. If — if you could just reach him before Princess Azula did, then there was hope. Returning to Ba Sing Se would not be such a fever dream if you had the Avatar at your side, and you scooped Bian back into your arms, kissing her between her eyes.

“You always bring me such lovely things, Bian,” you said. She cooed at you plaintively, and you winced in dismay as you realized her wing hung uselessly at her side, her body shaking in your hands from the pain of the destruction of her frail bones. “And this is the thanks you receive. From what I recall, there is a village nearby, and there should be someone who can treat you in it. We will do that first, and from there, we will figure out some way to find the Avatar.”

Strangely, as you trekked through the forest, you found yourself grateful for your enrollment at the academy. This was exactly the kind of situation you had run drills for, and whereas in your years as the princess of the Earth Kingdom you would’ve run out of breath or fallen or underwent some other, similar calamity, your time as Ursa of the Fire Nation had prepared you for this.

It was the last gift Prince Zuko had given you, unwittingly though it may have been. By sending you to that school, he had inadvertently prepared you to be his most dangerous enemy — made more dangerous for the fact that he must have believed you still loved him, or at least held enough affection for him that you’d excuse his actions upon coming to know of them.

You didn’t excuse them. How could you? He had taken everything from you, and then he had dragged you back to his nation without any care for how it might make you feel. What selfishness! What ignorance! What folly! It was blindness on his part, to imagine that a bear could flourish in a land of phoenixes, to truly believe that you could’ve been happy in the Fire Nation for any extended amount of time.

You made it to the village by noon, and though there was no reason for anyone there to recognize you, you ducked your head as you raced to the post office, where all mail brought to the village was kept to be sorted and distributed into mailboxes. Because of the large influx of messenger hawks that went back and forth from the post office, you were more likely to find help for Bian there than anyone else.

“Excuse me, postmaster, sir,” you said, bowing at the man who was sitting at the counter behind piles of letters. “Might I trouble you for a moment?”

“What is it?” he said gruffly, clearly irritated by your request. You wilted at the unsaid rebuke, but then you straightened your shoulders again. It didn’t matter if the man was annoyed — Bian needed help, and you would get it for her.

“My hawk, I think her wing is broken,” you said, placing Bian on the counter and shushing her when she tried to flap away in vain. The postmaster squinted at her.

“She’s a fine example of the species,” he said, a note of suspicion entering his tone. “Where’d you find such a lovely creature? And why’d you let her get in this condition? Birds such as her are meant to be ornaments, symbols of status, not actual messengers.”

Yet another thing Prince Zuko had neglected to tell you. Well, this you could not blame him for; Bian was not the sort to sit around and be a status symbol. Flying and working and fighting were a part of her nature, and she would be miserable without those outlets for her energy.

“She’s mine,” you said. “I got her in the capital city. You know that they only sell the finest of wares there. Though, of course, I could not afford a hawk for mere decorative purposes, so it’s true that I use her to send my letters.”

The postmaster scoffed. “Idiot.”

“Look, is it possible for her to be healed?” you said, rolling your eyes when he bent to inspect Bian’s wing. “That’s all I’m asking for, sir.”

Now that you remembered who you were, it felt odd to be so deferential to a person who you outranked so vastly. Unfortunately, at least for now, everyone thought you were nothing but another common girl, which meant that just about any person you conversed with had to be addressed with respect.

“She’ll be alright in a couple of weeks,” he said, reaching into a drawer and pulling out a piece of cloth, wrapping it around Bian’s wing so that it was flush to her body. “You’ll have to carry her around and take care of her in the meantime, but as long as you’re willing to do that, she’ll be able to fly again soon enough. It’ll be like she was never injured.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, sighing in relief at the thought that she would make a full recovery. “Thank you for your help. Did you hear, Bian? You’ll be okay.”

“You named her Bian?” the postmaster said. “What, have you been engaging with the colony trash?”

“Pardon?” you said. “What did you just say?”

“The colonies are such a blight on the Fire Nation,” he said. “Infecting even good and proper girls like you with their backwards customs and words. It’s a disgrace.”

The colonies was the general term used to refer to the Earth Kingdom villages which had fallen to Fire Nation rule. You had never been to any, but from what you had gathered, they were hotbeds of strife and inequality, where the Fire Nation soldiers lorded over the native Earth Kingdom citizens.

Of course — you had not realized it when you had given it to her, but Bian’s name was Earth Kingdom, so the postmaster was not entirely incorrect in guessing that you were from the colonies or had spent some days there. That was not what you were so horrified by — it was the latter part of his accusation, the notion of the Earth Kingdom citizens infecting the Fire Nation, which you took offense to.

Your people were not the invaders. Your people were not the aggressors. Your people had been living in peace until the Fire Nation attacked. If there was any blight, it was them, those destructive forces who burnt and burnt until the world fell to their feet. They were the stain upon the earth, so on what moral authority could this postmaster stand and claim that you were the disgraceful ones?

“Hm,” you said, though you longed to shout at him. There would be no gain from a burst of anger, though. It would only serve to give away your disguise, and you could not have that, not when you were still close enough to the capital that you could be easily tracked down by Prince Zuko and his ilk if you made even a single misstep. “Maybe so.”

“Do you need anything else? I’ll suffer pay cuts if I don’t get this mail sorted by evening,” the postmaster said.

“Pay cuts? You’re a government employee, aren’t you? Your pay shouldn’t be cut without extreme circumstances demanding it,” you said.

“It’s a new policy that Fire Lord Ozai’s put into place,” the postmaster said. “Those not performing to expected capacity will be punished, even though expected capacity is such an unrealistic goal. I haven’t seen my family in a week! I’ve just been sorting mail, mail, and more mail! But, ah, that’s not to say I’m complaining. All hail the royal family!”

“All hail the royal family,” you repeated, as was customary, even though the words were sour on your tongue. “Though that’s certainly a strange development.”

“It’s fine,” the postmaster said. “The Fire Lord is right, as per usual. If even one piece of a machine is not running smoothly, then the entire construction is forfeit. Maybe it doesn’t seem important, but if I am deficient in my work, then the entire nation will be that much delayed.”

“Very well,” you said. “If that’s how you wish to view it, I shan’t stop you. In fact, I’ll leave you to it, though not without a final question: is there any kind of transport that I can take to get somewhere else?”

“Depends on where you want to go,” he said, hunching over the pile of mail again and beginning to sort once more, eyes flicking up to meet yours when he spoke and then returning to his task immediately after.

“I’m not sure,” you said. “Just somewhere far from here.”

Belatedly, you realized you probably sounded even more suspicious, which was not a good thing, considering the postmaster was already likely questioning you, but luckily, he did not say anything beyond humming.

“I know of a couple that’s rented a carriage to take them to some southern hospital. You could probably ask to go along with them,” he said.

You brightened. The south was as good of a place to start as any; either way, it was in a different direction from the capital city, so even if the trip did not take you to the Avatar, it would deposit you in a place that was further from Prince Zuko’s reach than you were at present.

“Thank you,” you said. “And where might I find them?”

“The town square, most likely,” he said.

“Farewell, then,” you said, tucking Bian under your arm as you raced off. She did not protest, closing her eyes and enjoying the breeze as you sprinted towards the town square, hoping you would not miss the rental carriage’s departure.

As you skidded to a stop in front of a fountain, you huffed in relief when you saw a pregnant woman standing beside a man with a bag slung across his back. Though you had no description to go off of, you were willing to bet money that they were the couple that the postmaster had been referring to, and, after taking a second to catch your breath, you put on your best smile and walked over to bow at the couple.

“Hello, sir, madam,” you said. “I heard from the postmaster that you’ve rented a carriage to go to a southern hospital.”

“Yes, we did. It should be arriving soon,” the woman said.

“Why?” the man said warily, shifting so that he was standing half in front of the woman protectively.

“If you are not opposed, I should like to join you on your journey,” you said, poking Bian in the side. She squawked at you in indignation, and though you momentarily felt bad for bothering her when she was already injured, the noise served to draw the couple’s attention to her. Giving them a winning smile, you brandished Bian in front of you. “As you can see, my messenger hawk is injured. I am hoping to go to that same hospital and seek medical care for her.”

Bian cocked her head at them, blinking in a way that you could only pray they found charming. The man and woman exchanged looks.

“I didn’t know they treated animals, too,” the woman said, rubbing her stomach unsurely.

“Given the state of the, um, economy, they’ve expanded their client base,” you said, batting your own eyelashes. “I shall recompense you upon arrival, naturally.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt,” the man said, though you doubted he trusted you any.

“Thank you, sir. I promise you will not regret this!” you said.

“I sure hope not,” he said. Bian nipped your hand, and you shook your head before setting her on your shoulder, though not without reprimanding her for the impolite behavior.

“You won’t!”

The carriage rolled into the square only minutes later, and you thanked Quynh internally for sending you into the town at just the right time. Only a bit of a delay and you would’ve been stuck traveling by foot, but instead you would be making your way across the Fire Nation in relative style, taking up your own bench in the carriage and letting Bian rest atop your bags beside you.

“So, what’s your name?” the woman said as the carriage rolled off. You almost responded with Ursa out of habit, but you stopped yourself just in time. You didn’t want to wear anything associated with Prince Zuko, not even a name, and if the couple happened to be questioned at any point, then you did not want your well-known moniker to fall from their lips.

“Jia-Li,” you said easily, borrowing the first Fire Nation name you could think of, apologizing to your likely-frantic roommate as you did so. You had no specific quarrel with her, after all. One day, eventually, when she joined her nation’s army and became your enemy in full, you would not think of her so fondly, but for the moment, she was nothing more than a girl who had been kind to you. Your friend. “My name is Jia-Li.”

“That’s a pretty name,” she said.

“Thank you,” you said. You recognized that you probably ought to ask them for their names in return, but you did not. They were, after all, doing you a great favor by letting you ride in the carriage with them, and you would not repay their kindness with understanding.

If you knew their names, then you could incriminate them as accomplices in your escape, should you ever be captured or otherwise under duress. No, unawareness was the best policy. Maybe you’d seem ruder for it, but it was for their own good that you did so.

“I’m due to give birth soon,” the woman said after an awkward moment where no one spoke. “That’s why we’re going to the southern hospital, you see.”

“Do you expect complications?” you said.

“Every woman in my line has died in childbirth,” she said. “My mother, and her mother before her, and hers before her, so on and so forth. It’s like a curse. We’re hoping that, with the advancements in medicine that have taken place recently, there’s a chance I won’t fall victim to it as well. The southern hospital is supposedly the best in all the Fire Nation — we’ve been on the waitlist for an appointment for months.”

“Oh,” you said, staring out of the window at the scenery flashing by. “My mother died in childbirth as well. I suppose we have that in common.”

Or maybe not. Maybe Sokka’s hunch had been right and Long Feng had had some hand in her death, too. Maybe childbirth was just an easy way to explain her demise, which would’ve been unnatural in any other circumstance. You wouldn’t put it past the scheming Grand Secretariat and his Dai Li underlings, who had proven they would do anything for just a little bit more power.

That was the first thing you’d do, you vowed. As soon as you had your kingdom back, you would put every single one of those horrible people that had had a hand in your parents’ deaths and Ba Sing Se’s fall on trial. None of them would be spared. Even if it took days, you would bring each of them to justice. Perhaps it was a vindictive thought to have, but it made you feel better to think it, so you did not allow anything resembling a conscience to demand you stop.

“I’m sorry,” the man said.

“I mourn who she might’ve been,” you said. “But not who she was. I never knew her, after all. Though I thank you for it, you should save your concern for those in direr need.”

The closer and closer you got to the southern hospital, the more the man fretted, fussing over his wife, who seemed to be perpetually near tears. You did not blame either of them; the prospect of the woman’s possibly imminent death was sickening for you, too, and you did not even know her that well.

It was mystifying to you. If she knew that she had such a high chance of dying while giving birth, why had she chosen to conceive? It made no sense. It was an entirely avoidable form of death, and despite the insensitive nature of the query, you posed the question to her.

“Because,” she said without even taking the time to think, squeezing her husband’s hand, “there’s a chance.”

“A chance?” you said.

“A chance,” she affirmed. “That I’ll survive. That our baby will be healthy. That we can have the family we’ve dreamed of. It’s a small chance, admittedly. Maybe even a minuscule one. Most people call us insane for risking it. I’m sure you think the same. But the truth is that, as long as that chance exists, I have to rely on it. We have to.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” you said.

“Maybe not to some,” she said. “Everyone has to decide what they value, and then they just have to do what they can in pursuit of that thing.”

You were silent for a second, swallowing, gathering your thoughts, finding boldness in the anonymity of the conversation. They did not know you, and you did not know them, and it gave you the confidence to say something you would not dare vocalize to anyone else.

“What if a person values two things that are in conflict?” you said. “Say, their home and someone they love. What then?”

It was the man who spoke up this time. “If they really love that person, then they’ll do as that person wishes, even if it’s difficult. Even if it means they can’t have something else they desire.”

He glanced at the woman when he spoke, and you realized that he must have been speaking from personal experience.

“I see,” you said. “I guess it must be like that.”

It was a confirmation of what you had thought — that Prince Zuko had never loved you, not like you had loved him. You had given him everything, had allowed him through Quynh’s Door, and all the while, he had felt nothing for you. He had been pretending. You had told him the way to get into the palace, and he had seized the opportunity you had presented him with.

That was all you were to him. That was all you had ever been. An opportunity. A key. A door. What a stupid girl you were, to think he had ever thought of you as anything but Princess Y/N, his very own entrance to the Earth Palace.

“We’re really worried,” the man confided in you as the woman slept. “It took so long for the hospital to agree to see us, and longer to find a rental carriage willing to travel so far. If anything happens and we’re late to the appointment, I’m afraid they’ll turn us away. As it is, we’ll probably arrive with only an hour to spare.”

“I’m sure there won’t be any issues,” you said. Almost on cue, the carriage caught on something, and then it rolled to a stop. You swore under your breath before pursing your lips, not wanting to seem even impoliter than you already had.

“What’s happening?” the man said in a panic, pulling the curtains back and peering out the window. His wife woke with a start, glancing around, still dazed.

“What’s going on?” she echoed.

“By my estimates, it’s a routine stop. Perhaps one of the dragon moose grew tired and needed to be given water. There’s nothing to fret about,” you soothed, though you had no clue whether that was the truth or not. “I’m sure we’ll get going in just a few moments.”

The carriage door opened, and the driver entered, hunching over to fit in the doorway as he looked at you all with a grave expression.

“It seems we’ve hit someone,” he said.

“What?” the man shrieked.

“As in, they’re dead?” you said.

“No, they’re living, but they’re demanding payment for the injuries and trauma,” he said.

“Go on, then,” you said. “Pay them.”

“The company I work for doesn’t give us extra allowance for accidents,” the driver said. “It’s stated in the terms of the contract that passengers are responsible for additional fees incurred during the trip.”

“Just negotiating is going to take a while,” the man said, pale-faced. “Not to mention any savings we didn’t waste on hiring you are meant to pay for the hospital visit. We don’t have any extra!”

“You’ve possibly wounded the child for life,” the carriage driver said dully. “Yet you’re still being stingy?”

You frowned as you watched the back and forth, the way the woman’s eyes had widened and grown glossy with tears, the way the man’s fists were clenched to disguise the trembling of his hands. Though the situation was so different, you were reminded of Ba Sing Se. Here, too, the ordinary people were suffering. And here, too, though they were not your people, you felt a sense of duty prevailing in you, commanding you to help.

“I’ll deal with it,” you said. “You, just get them to the hospital as soon as possible. They have an appointment that they cannot miss.”

“But Jia-Li, what about your bird?” the woman said.

“Eh?” you said. She pointed at Bian. “Oh, we’ll, um, find another doctor nearby. You ought to worry only for your own condition, madam.”

“Thank you, miss,” the man said.

“Consider this my payment for the ride and the advice,” you said. “I thank you for both, and I pray that your child may be born with a good spirit and a healthy mother. May Agni be with you always.”

“You as well,” the woman said.

“We won’t ever forget what you’ve done for us,” the man promised you. “This may be the last time we meet, but we’ll remember you.”

You smiled at them, picking up your bag of things in one hand and Bian in the other.

“I’ll think of you often,” you promised, kicking the door shut behind you and hopping off the carriage, waving at the carriage driver to indicate that he could leave without you before turning to the scene of the wreck — only to find that there was no wreck, just a familiar boy standing and staring at you with a dropped jaw.

“Princess — Princess — Princess Y/N? Is that really you?” he said.

Your bag fell from your hands in shock as you comprehended who you were looking at. Placing Bian on the ground, you took a step forward, reaching your hands out, trying to ascertain if he was real or not.

“Sokka?” you said. “Sokka, what are you doing here? Why do I always encounter you in these strange, random places?”

“I should be asking you the same question!” he said. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead right now?”

“Yes,” you said, and then you were throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly, so relieved to finally have found one true ally, one person who knew who you really were. His own arms wound around your back, and unbidden, your lower lip began to tremble as the safety of his embrace finally allowed you to unabashedly weep. “Yes, I should be dead. I thought I was dead.”

“Looks like your brother threw a fit over nothing,” a new voice said — Toph! It was Toph, springing to her feet from where she had been lying in the road, dusting herself off. “I mean, honestly, I get that he was sad and all, but an escape is not exactly the moment to throw yourself to the ground and bawl and dramatically swear you’ll never leave the city your sister is buried in! It’s a miracle we dragged him and Bosco away.”

“What?” you said. “Do you — Do you mean to say that my brother is alive?”

“Yeah, he is,” Toph said. “He ran off to explore the Earth Kingdom and find himself, though. Something about how if ‘his dear baby sister could be so brave, then it was about time he started doing the same.’”

“Kuei,” you said, overcome with a wave of affection for your brother. He was alive. Somehow, despite the odds, despite everything working against him, he had made it. He had found the others, and he had survived, which meant you could see him again. The two of you could reclaim Ba Sing Se together, united in your efforts instead of carrying each other’s banners in memory.

“He really loves you,” Sokka said. “It’s one of the few things I have to give to him. He’s a lot of things, but a bad brother isn’t one of them.”

You wiped away your tears, letting go of Sokka and stooping down to grab your bag and the discarded Bian, who thankfully did not seem too miffed about the proceedings, nudging you with her beak in what you could only assume was her method of showing you affection.

“He’s the most wonderful brother,” you said. “I didn’t always appreciate that, but I will make sure to tell him every hour of every day once we may meet again.”

“That’s cheesy,” Toph said. “But kinda cute.”

“Wait, Toph,” you said. “This is a little bit unrelated, but were you the one that the carriage hit?”

“Uh,” Toph said, scratching the back of her neck.

“Well,” Sokka said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Kind of?” Toph said.

Your jaw dropped as you realized what they had done, and, looking around to make sure no one was watching, you lifted a pebble using your Earthbending and flicked it into Sokka’s forehead. This earned you a wounded yelp from him and a cackling laugh from Toph, who you had not bothered attacking on account of her seismic sense.

“You buffoons,” you said. “Did you seriously try to scam me?”

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