#What good does that do for this whole blackstone business??

[aidoxl]

Lord Evrard: We're all together now.

Friar Dorian Horbrooke. "Dr. Horribilis" polymath, philosopher, scientist, theologian. A genius that some call a wizard with unmatched expertise on ancient texts.

Gerard de Vendhuile. Architect and artist of the future. Your mind knows no bounds and travels places some can only dream of

Langward Ardene. Physician and surgeon who has written about the unwrite-able. Leagues above your counterparts because you know there's more to everything than meets the eye.

Barnabas of Ballechey. Astronomer and alchemist you're one of the few people who has seen visions of places beyond. Cracks that have led to our coming here.

And there's Prince Warin. Manipulative smartass. You hear me? He's clever and got his people under his thumb. Hello? Y'all paying attention to me? He's willing to do anything to get what he wants and he never stops wanting. Keep your guard around him. Did I mention he was manipulative?

[clerical3rr0r]

Could not agree more. Now that I think of it, Malevolent 43 might have given us some key insight into what Kayne’s problem might’ve been.

When the hag was doing her evil therapy business, she brought up the perfectly valid point that John had been trying to leave the Dreamlands as the King in Yellow before knowing anything about Arthur. And we know the King had a whole city of humans under his care that survived until Kayne massacred them. Why? Well, maybe for all the talk of madness, maybe the King wasn’t as evil as we assume?

This wouldn’t make him necessarily a good guy. He’s still an eldritch god who probably has a rough time comprehending things like death and pain. But what if he was trying? What if he wanted to learn more about humanity to help those he has in his care?

We’ve never seen very many signs of him in rituals and things in the way we have with other gods. The reason he got split is because he had to skip through another god’s portal to escape the Dreamlands in the first place. What if when his worship (and possibly power) started to wane, he considered how best to keep current worshippers alive and happy while also attracting new ones? What if his reputation for “causing madness” was a result of those on the outskirts of society that others already deemed mad choosing to follow him?

Of course, we’ve seen that the King has the power to make people suffer, and probably has before. We’ve seen him do it with Arthur and John (which does dent this theory a little, but I’d imagine drastic measures are understandable when it comes to making yourself whole again.) But a change in that dynamic, with a god actively trying to curry love and not fear, could be scary to competing deities. Especially ones without any known worshippers and/or a severed connection to the ones they have left. Deities like Kayne who like control so much they’re willing to hope timelines and murder other versions of themselves for it.

So, to recap, Kayne might be trying to convince everyone that the King in Yellow was horrible when he wasn’t (or was at least trying not to be) because he’s scared of Arthur and John tracking down the other fragments of the King and becoming a more powerful, benevolent force to oppose him. We’ve already seen that the King can’t rejoin again, but that doesn’t stop all his fragments from working for a common goal and reclaiming what was theirs. There are probably implications here when it comes to the Blackstone quest but I’ll need more time to think of what those might be.

so here's a fun thought for everyone

Why the FUCK doesn't Kayne want Arthur to know anything about the King in Yellow?

It's tricky to spot over the course of Malevolent as an ongoing canon, but when you look back at the pieces there's a very interesting pattern forming.

First and foremost, the King is (functionally) dead. John's memories of the King's actual life are inconsequential to the point of nonexistent, and Yellow doesn't have any. Given that we know now that Kayne can travel freely between the Dark World and other realities, something no other god is suggested to be able to just yet, we can infer that Kayne put Yellow in the Dark Place explicitly to remove his memories. So there's no longer any first-hand accounts of what the King's motives were/are.

Any humans who could explain the King's motives are dead, and the ones who might have had a reasonable guess is removed. Emily is dead. Amanda is dead.

(Side note: HEY ISN'T THERE ONLY LIKE ONE OTHER HUMANOID THAT JOHN CAN'T DESCRIBE)

Anna is dead.

The Butcher, who has been previously involved with Eldritch Bullshit and may have even held clues as to what was happening with the overall state of the gods, is dead.

Larson, who was an active researcher of eldritch deities, was put in too much pain to function and removed from the scenario entirely. Yellow, who was still sympathetic to Arthur and may have been able to be swung around as an ally, is likewise removed.

(Charlie, who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and knows nothing, gets yote for funsies.)

So, the only person Arthur has to rely on about information on the other gods becomes Kayne.

Every time Arthur meets Kayne in person, he is in a compromised position and unable to follow up on his own questions

The first time is 20, right after the prison pits, immediately off-kilter because of Faroe's music box and her song, and Kayne immediately distracts him with his own agenda, pushing the idea of Arthur being special, of the King winning, and he gives Arthur the knife - while prompting him on how to use it, as well as how to summon him again.

The second time is Coda, where Arthur is actively dying, and not only does Kayne continue to keep him off-balance by forcing him to beg for John, he keeps Arthur even further off-balance by forcing him to take the entirely unnecessary deal to get "John without his memories" back. And then he spends all of S3 obsessing about John and too distracted to care further than Larson.

The third time is 40 and Intermezzo, where he is witness to Everything Going To Shit, and at this point has actually developed some learned helplessness around Kayne: he no longer pushes back, except to ask relevant questions.

Kayne constantly undermines John, making it difficult for Arthur to feel like he can rely on him in Kayne's presence. He insults John, makes it difficult to describe him and drops references that John can't understand to put his intelligence into question, putting John on the back foot and into compromised social positions. Revealing the cruel things John has done in unflattering lights (forcing John to perform them in the Dark World and making him sound proud of them in 40) and outright orchestrating the divorce in Intermezzo with the entire 'I'll remove his memories for you' debacle. He puts John in a position where Arthur has legitimate reason to doubt his honesty and intentions, and uses that to further undermine John in Arthur's eyes.

I had more points but I lost my train of thought. anyway i am fucking frothing at the mouth about this, what are we missing about the King??

[redorich]

In the HermitCanyon au, How is my favorite Bee armored Admin doing? How long does it take for Xisuma to become.. aware of what is happening? For the first few sections it seemed like he was in a coma/unconscious. In the most recent bit Impulse tells Etho to get Xisuma, so at least theoretically he can now move, but how long has it taken him to get there, and where is he on the scale to full recovery? Are the other hermits keeping him safe with rabbit stew? (if they have rabbits that is...)

Part 2 of this.

Etho comes back twenty minutes later with a solemn look on his face. (At least, Puffy assumes. She can't actually see most of his face because of that mask of his.)

"X is in a bad way today," he says quietly. "I can take Puffy to him if you guys would like to stay here with Zedaph."

Impulse and Tango look nervously at each other. On one hand, they very much would like to stay with Zedaph, who is mostly healed but still very loopy and probably should not be moved. On the other hand, allowing Puffy deep into the Hermits' inner sanctum is a risk in and of itself, let alone with only one Hermit with her. Etho's a good fighter and a wily bastard, but Puffy is most certainly no slouch.

In the end, it comes down to trust. How much can they show Puffy before they can no longer trust that she won't snitch? How sure are they that she won't try to kill them all and steal their stuff?

"Tell Xisuma I said hi," Zedaph warbles from the bed in the corner of the room, out of any window's line of sight.

As Etho presses a button which removes a panel of the wall in a whir of piston noises, Puffy snorts out a little laugh. "I'll be sure to do that."

Tango nods subtly to Impulse. If Puffy brought Zedaph back to the canyon, saved him from a painful respawn, and didn't once ask for anything in return, then the Hermits can trust her at least this much.

Etho leads Puffy through a short hallway into a large circular room with a domed ceiling. The room is mostly quartz, though the walls are lined with sea lanterns and oak leaves. It’s beautiful. This place has been hiding under her feet this whole time?

“This is the Atrium,” Etho says, “or at least the main one. Come on, getting a mule will be more trouble than it’s worth if you’re not carrying anything.”

Puffy is speechless, utterly and profoundly, when Etho takes her through a tunnel on the opposite side of where she entered. It almost looks as though the tunnel here was carved by hand, then completely redone in dirt and grass and vines to give it a secretive, high fantasy look.

“Hey, Etho!” says a dark-haired man with a big smile as he comes trotting out of a branching hallway to the left. “Hey--” He catches sight of Puffy and his smile dissipates into panic. He shouts incoherently and dives back into the hallway he just exited.

“Hey Bdubs,” Etho greets impishly, then turns to Puffy. “Man, it’s like he saw a ghost or something. Maybe Mothman.”

Puffy bleats out a surprised laugh. Up ahead, she spots another Hermit lurking around the corner of the archway Etho is leading her toward.

“Etho,” says a tall blonde woman. “Cleo wants to talk to you about, er...” The blonde woman glances at Puffy. “Her thing,” she finishes lamely.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a bit busy at the moment. Would you mind telling Cleo so she doesn’t skin me alive?” Etho says sweetly.

The blonde woman snorts. “Face the music, Mothman. I’ll take care of Puffy from here. I assume you’re taking her to Xisuma?”

Etho wilts. Clearly, whoever this Cleo person is, she’s not someone to piss off. Puffy wonders what Etho did.

“See ya around,” Etho waves, somehow both cheery and morose at the same time, like a funeral for someone nobody liked. Puffy and the blonde woman watch him go.

“My name’s False, by the way,” the blonde woman says. “Thanks for the bandanna. Normally I’d be wearing it, but I just got back from beating up Iskall.”

The woman-- False-- laughs. Puffy is once again taken aback by the idea that the Hermits actually use the items that she makes for them. 

False takes off in a brisk walk toward the archway she’d come out of. Jumping a little bit at being torn from her thoughts, Puffy hurries to follow. It’s hard to keep up, since all Puffy wants to do is stare. She must be in the living quarters-- they let her in the living quarters?! Each door matches the high fantasy, underground sort of aesthetic, but a few doors are left open and each one is remarkably different on the inside. One room is built entirely out of red and white concrete, whereas another is Nether-themed with actual fire, and the room down the hall is entirely underwater!

One door is different. It’s got blue-purple banners along the frame, and when False opens the door for Puffy, she can see that the room is made of blackstone bricks. Maps of the Dream SMP line the wall, and in the center of the room there is a mildly ornate table made of warped wood.

At the end of the table in the back of the room, opposite the door, sits a trio. To the left, there is a plain-looking man with a beard and an “at” symbol on his shirt. He speaks in a Southern accent to a man on the right side of the table, who wears a red sweater and twirls a feather between his fingers like the cat that got the canary.

In between the two, at the head of the table, rests someone very unique. He’s obviously tall, that much is obvious even when he’s sitting down. He’s also got mesmerizing purple eyes which glow faintly against the dark of the blackstone. Puffy doesn’t know why, but she gets the feeling that they’re supposed to be glowing much brighter.

As taken by the man’s eyes as she is, Puffy doesn’t notice the non-invasive breathing tube the man also has (a cannula? She doesn’t know what it’s called, but that sounds right) until the man’s gaze falls upon her, still standing in the doorway next to False.

“Oh,” the man says. “You’re not supposed to be here. Welcome.”

False steps forward, breaking Puffy from her trance. “Puffy, this is Xisuma, Joe, and Grian. I’d introduce you to them as well, but... you know.”

“I don’t know-- oh,” Puffy says awkwardly, catching sight of the massive crochet blanket she’d made for the Hermit months ago, draped across Xisuma’s shoulders.

“Why are you here?” Grian asks with a tilted head. “No offense or anything, but I just lost a bet. I had three diamonds on Cub bringing you in here eventually-- he’s the one you usually meet at the barrel, you know.”

False interjects, “I didn’t bring her down here, it was Etho!”

“Shoot,” Joe says. “Cleo wins yet again.”

“It was Zedaph, actually,” Puffy says. All eyes turn to her. “I found him on the surface. He was really injured, so I brought him back here. Impulse and-- Tango? Yeah, Tango-- told Etho to take me down here.”

Puffy uncharacteristically twiddles her fingers a little bit, feeling in over her head. “Uh, you know I’m not gonna tell or anything, so... Why am I here?”

The full weight of Xisuma’s piercing stare falls upon her. Even as fragile as he looks, even as strong as Puffy is, she feels a jolt of apprehension.

“You’d know more about the red vines than we do,” he begins. “Etho mentioned that they’re what hurt Zedaph; he’s mentioned them on multiple occasions, and never in a good way. How long do you think it would take for those vines to reach our village, and what do you think would happen once they do?”

“As far as we’re aware, there are several players who are proponents of the vines, and claim they originate from some sort of egg?” Joe adds. “I’ve had a hard time calculating how big of a mushroom we’d need to make an omelet out of the egg, but apparently most of my fellow Hermits do not in fact want evil eggs on their omelets.”

“And how come the End is inaccessible?” Grian cuts in with a whine. “I want my elytra.”

Xisuma huffs a laugh into the cannula. “As you can see, we have many questions which only a native Dream SMP player like yourself can answer. In the interest of keeping ourselves safe--” he trails off into a coughing fit.

Puffy bites her lip, feeling as though she really shouldn’t be seeing this. Joe rests his hand on Xisuma’s back.

“You give us answers, and we’ll give you diamonds, netherite, whatever you want. And when we move out-- well, it wasn’t much of a secret anyway-- we’ll offer you a safe place with us,” Grian speaks up on Xisuma’s behalf.

A thousand thoughts spin inside Puffy’s head. She feels like Dorothy in that tornado, and Grian’s offer is the Wicked Witch. “Did you guys really save Tommy’s life?” she finds herself asking.

The Hermits seem taken aback.

“The blond kid?” False asks. “Yeah, but he was unconscious the whole time. I think Scar told the kid to keep us a secret, but... I don’t think any of us expected that to actually work.”

Puffy laughs disbelievingly. “He’s the one person on the entire server who keeps insisting that you guys aren’t real.”

“That’s good to hear,” Xisuma says quietly. “Do you have an answer for us, or would you like some time to consider?”

There are a thousand and one variables Puffy needs to think about. What is Dream’s stance on the Hermits? Who will she be setting herself against by allying with the Hermits? What will Puffy have to expect, from both underground and surface-dwelling players alike? Which players can she take in a fight?

Fuck it, she thinks. “You’ve got yourselves a deal.”

Xisuma smiles. Despite his ill condition, she gets the feeling that this nice, mild-mannered man is far more dangerous than she could ever hope to be.

“I’m glad to have you on our side, Puffy,” he says. “Thank you for your help.”

[pandoraborn]

“Hey, Tommy? Do you have a minute?” Ranboo’s voice is far shakier than he intends for it to be. He’s not nervous about meeting up with Tommy, not at all. It’s not like they have a rocky relationship and he doesn’t know what Tommy’s thinking all the time. It’s not like Tommy’s been cagey about his own plans or what he’d been up to. It’s not like he still holds some sort of charisma and charm that cause people to still flock around him.

Nothing like that, no.

“Sure, Ranboob.” Tommy laughs at his own joke as he pauses in his actions. Something about gathering blackstone. Ranboo doesn’t want to question it, and he’s wondering if this meetup is even a good idea. “What can I help you with?”

“Er, if you’re busy, I can just...no. No I don’t want to keep eating up your time. I’m sure you’re very busy.”

“Not that busy. Mostly doing shit for Sam Nook. You heard of him? Sam Nook, he’s helping me build my hotel. Needy and clingy, if you ask me.”

Ranboo forces a grin, though he doesn’t see the humor. “Can I ask you to keep this between us?” He shifts his eyes from side to side, leaning closer and lowering his voice. He really doesn’t want to take the chance. “Because I don’t...I don’t want people thinking I’m weird, y’know?”

“Are you actually coming to me for advice? Is it how to get women?” The grin on Tommy’s face is wide, full of innocence. Tommy deserves to look innocent, Ranboo thinks. He wishes he could have that same enthusiasm.

“I wish,” Ranboo says. “You...you were with Dream for awhile, right?”

The smile drops from Tommy’s face instantly. There’s no longer that same childlike innocence in his eyes. Tommy looks a lot older now, exhaustion and sadness replacing the warmer emotions. There are wrinkles in his forehead and faint bags under his eyes. This is Tommy; the real one that he probably hides from everyone.

“What are you getting at, Ranboo?”

Even the warmth is gone from Tommy’s voice. Ranboo wonders if this is even a good idea, reminding Tommy of his own issues. He backs up a step, shaking his head. “No, like. Okay. Um. Have you ever had moments where you like. I dunno, like, blacked out, woken up somewhere else?”

Tommy doesn’t response. He’s tense, more tense than Ranboo ever remembers seeing him, completely stiff. There’s a distant expression in Tommy’s face, a brief moment where his eyes glaze over and he stares straight through Ranboo. He looks over his shoulder, wondering if he can see what Tommy sees.

“Yeah,” Tommy finally mutters. His voice is low, barely above a whisper. It sounds just as dreamy as his expression looks. “I used to wake up underwater in exile,” he continues. “I still can’t remember how that happened or why. It happened every day, and then Dream always came to visit.”

He seems to snap out of his trance then. Ranboo can see him snapping himself back to reality, with that subtle shake of his head, followed by rapid blinking. He’s not looking through Ranboo anymore, but looking at him again.

“Why? Is something happening with you? You’re not in contact with him, are you?”

Ranboo shakes his head. “It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have bothered you about this. I’m probably just stressed or something. I guess I just needed to know I wasn’t alone with this sleepwalking.”

There’s a new expression on Tommy’s face. Ranboo recognizes that look to be suspicion, and it fills him with dread. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s not to cross Tommy. He might be one of the youngest around, but he’s also incredibly sharp; Tommy doesn’t miss a whole lot. He especially doesn’t miss when people are lying to him, like Ranboo is doing right now.

“If you say so. You know you can talk to me about anything if you need to, right? I get it, man.”

“I know. Don’t worry Tommy, I’m being stupid. Everyone sleepwalks, don’t they?” He forces a laugh out as he backs up. He doesn’t like the way Tommy is still staring at him through narrowed eyes and thin lips. He really doesn’t like being mentally ripped apart by Tommy of all people.

“If you say so, big man,” Tommy finally says. “You’re right, people do sleepwalk, it does happen. I won’t keep you, you look like you’re in a hurry. Just remember, I get it. You can trust me.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks Tommy. I’ll see you around, right?”

“Course man.”

Ranboo doesn’t bother saying ‘bye’ before he tridents out of there. His heart is thumping in his chest as he tridents back toward the nether portal. He knows he can trust Tommy. He knows that if he opened up to Tommy, they could bond over their weird memory gaps, or whatever influence Dream seems to have over both of them.

The sad thing is, he doesn’t trust Tommy. Ranboo barely even trusts himself. He doesn’t know why he can’t trust someone else, least of all Tommy, but there’s something far too vulnerable about placing his trust in the hands of someone else who’d been manipulated and used. Something that would no doubt lead to trouble for both of them.

No, it’s best if Ranboo doesn’t talk to Tommy anymore. If something’s happening to him, he’s not about to let Tommy get hurt either.

[pastelsandpining]

we’ll meet again

a rewriting to the ending of Ocarina of Time

words: 2347

warnings: angst. a lot of angst. read with caution

Masterlist

When the mangled body of the hog-like monster finally grows still, the sacred sword still hilt-deep in the crumpled corpse, Link knows then that it’s over. The years of sorrow, the loneliness of travel, everything that came with the heavy weight of pulling the world from the clutches of evil, is over. He withdraws the sword, but it takes an effort he didn’t think he had left. It’s heavier--or maybe it’s his limbs that are heavy, too exhausted to carry on any further. Adrenaline is a thing of the past and he takes two steps forward before his foot catches on a bit of loose debris. The Master Sword, his tool of time and of protection, slips to the soiled ground with a clang, and he’s following it. Part of him, the part too used to victories never meaning an end, expected the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

The only thing that wraps around him, catching him from hitting the rocky ground still levitating above the chasm of chaos, is a sea of gentle pink and purple tones. The touch is feather soft and strong enough to ground him all at once, and no longer is the world spinning, or burning in a sea of despair. It’s a comfort he hasn’t known since Saria—over seven years ago, but it feels like so much longer that he’s been craving it.

“Princess,” he greets in a hoarse, broken whisper. It’s swallowed by the fabric of her dress.

“Oh, Link,” she says, and it’s enough to make him lean his head against her chest. When her face finds his shoulder and he feels the warmth of her exhale on his neck, he chokes out a sob and digs his filthy, glove-covered fingers into the satin of the dress covering her back. He isn’t worthy of her touch or her comfort, but he’s too brokenly grateful to let her go.

Seven years of nothing and a mere two of shadow, of death and destruction and desolation, comes to an end, a result of nothing more than a man given too much power to handle, and Link does not feel the relief or the lifted weight that one would expect. All he feels is the suffocating fear that the body would move again, or that the crystal would encase her, and he would find himself stuck in a never ending cycle of heroic trauma.

But the arms of the princess are steady and she whispers another phrase, two of the simplest words that bear a heavy importance: “Thank you.”

He wonders what bit of her magic is responsible for how she still smells so good after running down several swirling cliffs and through burning, stuffy rooms. A vague realization hit him that he must smell awful, but he supposes it doesn’t matter when the world has been ending for the past nine years. His fingers are stiff when he tries to move them. He doesn't realize just how tightly he’s been holding onto her, or how hard they’re both shaking. He flattens his hands against her back, inhales her scent, loosens his arms, and relaxes his shoulders. His leg still stings from where Ganon’s blade had caught him, but it’s dull and doesn’t matter right now.

When he finds the strength to lift his head, everything around him is blue.

It’s a stark contrast to the dark skies that plagued Hyrule for months. It’s so different from the moody interior of blackstone walls and towering mirrors with grotesque mosaics of thirst and power. It’s too bright for his eyes, even if all he wants to look at is her. They’re still kneeling on the ground, except there’s nothing visible beneath them. Blue skies and cotton clouds stretch as far as he can see. The Master Sword is still there, telling him whatever’s holding them up is solid enough, and he reaches blindly for it when he finally retracts his arms. He drives the tip into the transparent (or maybe, reflective) ground and hauls himself up with a wince. It takes a minute for the spinning to stop. When he’s steady again, he extends a hand to her.

She takes it, gentle and promising, and Link helps Princess Zelda to her feet.

“Where…” he tries to ask, but her eyes soften and he no longer has a voice.

“Nowhere,” she replies. He feels her hold on his hand tighten. “We’re in a moment between time, a space away from Hyrule. I figured you, of all people, deserve an explanation.”

For all of his senseless meddling with time, he understood none of what she’d said. Thinking about it gave him a headache, so he didn’t. But why would he need an explanation?

“There’s no explanation worth saying,” he says, shaking his head.

“People go to great lengths when they have been wronged. You are one of them. I was so young, too naive to know what would happen. It was my plan that put you through so much and for that, I’m sorry.”

She looks so sad. It claws into his heart and tries to pull it out. Link shakes his head again, more desperately, and covers her hand with his.

“It’s an honor to help you, Princess,” he argues, as if he could make her forgive herself through the sheer force of will. “I would do it again and again.”

“Because you are kind and courageous. It’s in your blood, to be a hero.”

To be her hero, which was something he couldn’t say aloud.

“I feel empty,” he admits into the stretch of silence. “What happens now that it’s over?”

Because stories are not real. Stories that end with a suddenly happy life, like there was never any threat at all, never sit right with him. What’s a hero’s purpose once the villain is defeated? Princess Zelda, in all of her wisdom and power, is the only person who could answer that.

“What do you want to happen?” she asks.

Link frowns. If he’s honest, he’s never expected an ending. Logically, he knows he couldn’t go on forever. Either he would succeed or he would die trying, but it lasted for so long that the idea of a life after the war was nothing more than a fantasy. Now, with the prospect in front of him and just out of reach, he doesn’t know what he wants. He thinks of the forest, of Saria and of his friends, and knows that having it back is not an option. Even if it was, he knows it wouldn’t be the same.

He thinks about the contrast between the past and the present. He thinks about the lively people and colors and animals that once filled Castle Town to the brim, and the ghost town inhabited only by reanimated corpses that it’d become. He thinks of the civilizations he’s met—the Gorons, the Zora, and how devastated they were destined to be. He thinks of the woman in front of him, the princess with which this all started, and believes that she does not deserve to bear the burden of destruction alone.

He also doesn’t think he’s been asked that before. It’s always been, you must do this, and so he doesn’t know what it is that he wants.

“Is peace an option?” he asks, because he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to quiet the chaos in his head.

“That’s a complicated question,” Princess Zelda replies. Her hands slip from his and he aches with the urge to take them again. “Can you have peace without conflict? Are they really so easy to seperate? Hyrule was peaceful because a civil war brought about chaos. This moment in time is peaceful because you’ve laid to rest a terrible evil. I wish I could grant you what you seek.”

He wants to shrug, brush off her words like there was nothing profound or truthful behind them, but for all his courage, not even he could disrespect the princess. She does not deserve that. Instead, he asks,

“What do you want, Princess?”

Her reply comes fast, with a small and pained smile, “I’m afraid what I want isn’t something you can give me, Hero.”

He doesn’t like that title, Hero. Why can’t he be Link, nothing more, nothing less? For the same reason she can’t simply be Zelda, he supposes, and leaves it there with a frown.

“Is it that bad?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“I want, more than anything, for my people to be spared the suffering that Ganondorf-- that I have put them through. I want to undo my mistake, take back my meddling in something I was too young to understand. I want to restore everything that was, before the world ended.”

It’s a bold desire. Link understands where she’s coming from, because it was easier before the world ended. Back when his only struggle was wondering why he didn’t have a fairy like the rest of the Kokiri children. With all the power that Princess Zelda had, surely it was not impossible.

“You could go back to before,” he suggests, gripping the sword a little tighter.

“I could,” she agrees, “but I would leave so much behind.”

Link furrows his brows and takes a look at their surroundings. What would she be leaving behind? Did she not lose her entire kingdom? There must’ve been something he was missing, something he couldn’t see.

“I don’t understand,” he admits at last, turning his gaze to the Master Sword. “What’s left to lose?”

When he looks back up, Princess Zelda’s eyes are wet. He frowns again, wishing there was any sort of comfort he could offer her.

“I would lose you,” she says, and he feels his heart stop in his chest, “and the friendship we’ve built, and the lessons I’ve learned. Neither are worth giving up. It’s a difficult decision I don’t know how to make.”

Link doesn’t know what to say, so he extends a hand to her in a gesture he can only hope will provide some sort of comfort. When she takes it, he averts his eyes and busies himself looking around at what he could see of the ruined kingdom. He can’t pretend to know how she feels. Right now, he has nothing but her to keep him going. He’s outgrown his friends, his purpose has been fulfilled, what more is there for him to do? He could support Princess Zelda in whatever decision she makes, but even so, what could he do for her, really? Perhaps if there was any remnant of the kingdom that wasn’t fractured, they could rebuild, but at what cost? The expense of exhaustion and of the resources they didn’t have was too great. He knows nothing about governing, or anything else he might be required to do if he stayed with her--and gods, did he want to stay.

For her, he doesn’t think it’s much of a sacrifice at all. A kingdom of thousands of people is worth more than one lowly man. He does not know how to read. It was a silly thing, to be as old as him and not know how to do one of the simplest things. Navi’s done it for him for as long as she’s been around, and he doesn’t think someone who can’t read or write would make for a good companion in a time of need. He can be taught, but the time it would take simply wasn’t worth it.

He brings her gloved hand to his mouth, offers a kiss to her knuckles, and before he knows it, he’s pressing the Ocarina of Time into her hands.

“Your kingdom,” he says, “it needs you.”

“Link,” and she shakes her head and sounds broken but he presses further.

“You’re brilliant and just, and you deserve your fair reign over your people. Please, Princess, you deserve something for yourself.”

“Is a lifelong companion not good enough?” she asks. He feels her grip on the instrument tighten beneath his fingers.

“No. You have the chance to undo it all. Why settle with the cards you’ve been given?”

“I..”

She doesn’t look sure. Link has to admit that the idea is scary. Resetting the timeline was… difficult. It would undo everything he’s done up until now, reducing it to nothing more than a few years of bad dreams, and that idea made him feel sick. The possibility of never knowing her scared him more.

“We can get back what we lost,” he tries to convince her anyway. “You didn’t get to be a child.”

“Neither did you,” she argues, stepping closer. “Why should I get what you never had?”

“Then make it so we both get it.”

Her blue eyes narrow as she looks up at him. He doesn’t back down. The silence is pregnant and her gaze is intense, but he knows what he wants and it’s for her to get the chance she deserves. Backing down is not an option, no matter how much he wants to tell her that she can have whatever she wants from him.

“Link,” she says at last, freeing her hands so she could hold the ocarina to her chest. He thinks she wants to say something else, but she settles for, “Are you sure?” and he nods quickly, despite the tears he can feel stinging in his eyes.

“Go home,” he insists, lifting a hand to gently hold her face, “and I promise I’ll come find you.”

She smiles up at him, mumbling something about keeping the promise, and all he can do is smile back. When she lifts the ocarina to her mouth, Link decides simply to watch her until the arms of time take him back, away from her again but not for long.

When he comes to, in the Temple of Time, with the sword in the pedestal and his hands too small to hold it properly, that’s when Navi takes her leave. Link, renewed with the vigor of youth, turns around and runs towards the castle, as fast as his little legs can carry him.

[shadeswift99]

Decked Out And Dead Tired

(904 words, team ZIT, friendship only)

Last stream, Tango was talking to Impulse about how long it's been since he slept in-game because of Decked Out. He's also been having a lot of connection issues with the server lately, which gave me an idea....

___________________________

Up a bit. Down a bit. No, not that much. Up a bit.

The armor stand blurred in Tango's vision and he blinked, trying to keep focus. He'd stopped keeping track of the last time he'd slept hours ago. Days ago?

Either way, now was not the time. He was so close to finishing this project! Just a few more armour stands to go, and then the glorious complexity of this game would finally be a reality. He forced his tired fingers to fumble through the pages of the armour stand book, quietly muttering to himself as he struggled to position the thing.

"Need a hand?" Impulse walked by with a shulker hoisted under one arm. "This whole armour stand business can be tricky to work on alone. I don't know how Cleo does it."

"No, you've done enough...." Tango rubbed his hand over his face and tried to call himself back to some level of alertness. "I think I just need to work on something else for a change of scenery. Maybe I'll improve the lava pits a bit more." He tossed the book into a nearby chest and turned to walk beside Impulse, letting his mind drift to his plans for the lava room.

"....really good, but you've been down here for a while, haven't you?"

"Eh?" He had no idea how long his friend had been talking for.

Impulse glanced over at him with concern. "I said it's looking really good, but you haven't been to the surface in a while, buddy."

"Surface? Is that a new type of dungeon?" Tango chuckled ironically.

"No, seriously." Impulse set down the shulker and took him by the shoulders, tilting him to see better in the light of the lava. "You look pretty rough."

"I'm fine." Tango felt a small spark of annoyance as he brushed Impulse off. "Besides, it's not like you haven't pulled all-nighters on projects before."

"Well, you've got me there...."

"Hypocrite."

Impulse chuckled. "Fine. I'll drop it."

The two grabbed supplies from the shulker and started work on the finer details of the lava room. Tango's thoughts were filled with the clank and thump of chains and stone blocks, and he let himself settle into the rhythm of building for a while. He spent some time brainstorming and bantering with Impulse until they had finally decided on a design for the guardrails. Everything seemed to be going well again.

At least, it was, until the shaking started. At first it was just small jumps, tiny shivers in his view when he turned too fast, but by the time he went to place the last few chains it was getting really disorienting. He paused to steady himself on a pillar as another dizzying jerk wrenched his vision.

He blinked hard and stared down at the floor, trying to hold his head still. He took one deep breath, then another. Let it pass. It had always passed before. He just needed to finish this row of chains, and then he could sit down.

"Tango?" He hadn't even noticed Impulse come up beside him until he felt a light touch on his back. "You good there?"

"Yes! I'm fine!" Tango snapped, a bit more sharply than he meant to. He gritted his teeth against the dizziness and placed the last chain.

Or did he? The world jerked again, worse than it ever had, and suddenly the chain was gone. He felt himself start to sway as he blinked over and over again, trying to make it come back, but now darkness was creeping in on his vision and his hands were going numb. It had to be there... Had he really just imagined it? Impulse was saying something, but the sound of his heartbeat rushing in his ears was too loud for him to understand.

Arms shot out to catch him just as his knees gave out. Tango barely felt himself being lowered gently onto the blackstone floor. He lay there with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, focusing only on his breath and the sound of Impulse's voice fading in and out of his awareness.

The sound of rockets startled him into full consciousness. Finally, he felt confident enough to open his eyes. He still couldn't move his head much for the dizziness, but if he held steady he could see two figures standing over him.

"What are you doing here?" he rasped, squinting up at them

"Nice to see you too, Tango." Zedaph gave a smile and a little wave.

"I took the opportunity to call Zed in case I needed help. You had me worried there, buddy." In fact, Impulse looked downright afraid.

"Sorry, I'm okay now...." Tango struggled to sit up, but Zed gently pushed him back down.

"Hey, look what I brought you." Zedaph leaned over and gestured to a bed he'd set down in the corner. "You're going in it."

"But..."

"Tango, look at me." He'd never seen Zedaph that serious before. "You're not okay. I know how us Hermits can get about projects, but everyone needs to take a break sometimes! Impulse and I will finish up here while you sleep. Alright?"

Tango sighed. At this point he'd be a fool to refuse a rest, especially when they were both standing there looking at him like that....

"Fine." He cracked a small smile. "Thanks for helping out with the game. And thanks for looking out for me."

[hollywoods-golden-age-imagines]

Meeting and Dating Robbo

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You and Robbo met when you first walked into his club. By that point, most people in Chicago had heard about the man and his charitability, you being no different, so when you found yourself in a little bit of financial trouble, you thought you’d try your luck with him. 

- While you wouldn’t have protested to any of his rumored generosity, you’d initially walked into his club with the hopes of earning yourself a job there, though the trashed state of the place had certainly thrown you for a loop. 

- The men who were standing there looked at you like you had two heads and you; feeling even more awkward and nervous than before, were about to apologize and leave before Robbo took notice of you. 

“I was wondering if I could speak with you?” You’d asked and he’d been more than happy to usher you into his partially trashed office. 

- He asked what he could do for you and you told him about your predicament, offering up a bit of flattery to try and butter him up. It worked like a charm and soon enough, you were shaking his hand with a bright smile, thanking him and promising that he won’t regret it.

- You’d have to wait a month or so before you could actually begin working there; meaning that you’d need to pick up an odd job here or there, but you could finally rest easy, knowing that you had a definite source of income in the very near future.

- Meanwhile, Robbo couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d plagued his mind ever since you walked in and he just couldn’t seem to get you out of his head.

- Well, soon enough the time comes and you show up to work, rendering him speechless as you walk out in your new uniform. When he isn’t busy, he spends quite a bit of time looking at you, admiring the way you move and the way your smile lights up any room you’re in.

- Occasionally, Robbo will come up and flirt with you, which really isn’t surprising, considering the fact that he was pretty flirty the first time you met. What does surprise you is that he seems to take special interest in you and only you.

- You’d expect him to flirt with all the girls who work at or even just go to the club. I mean, they’re all young, attractive women, right? There’s nothing particularly special about you, is there?

- It becomes apparent that there must be about a month or so after you start working for him. It was late one night and he was walking you out, getting ready to lock up the club behind him. You’d just finished saying goodbye when he stopped you for a moment, asking if you’d like to have dinner with him; an invitation you obviously accepted.

- He makes reservations at the Blackstone and the two of you have dinner, getting to know each other better and making comfortable conversation. You like him, he likes you, and it feels right, even though it may not be the most professional thing for you to do; seeing your boss that is.

- The two of you share your first kiss after he finishes his trial. You’re waiting for him in the lobby and when he sees you, he immediately makes his way over, sweeping you into his arms and spinning you around before he finally lets you down.

- He looks into your eyes for a quick moment before he’s pulling you closer by your waist and pressing his lips to yours.

- When you break apart, the cheers from the crowd outside finally reaches your ears and you can’t help but smile, letting him lead you outside to greet “his people”.

- And there you have it, Chicago’s Robin Hood and Maid Marian.

- Reserved, gentlemanly Pda. He isn’t too fond of doting on you in front of people. He prefers to just treat you like a proper lady and show that you’re together without giving bystanders toothaches just by looking at you.

- His hand on your back, guiding you places whenever you’re out in public together.

- Walking around with him comfortably clutching your arm or you clutching his.

- Temple kisses.

- Long, loving kisses. He has a habit of rubbing his hands up and down your arms when he kisses you.

- The two of you tend to cuddle with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. Sometimes you’ll stay up and talk for a bit, other times he’ll just listen to you falling asleep; it helps him relax after a long day.

- Sitting on his lap. 

- He’ll usually call you things like sweetheart, honey, or just your given name. He only likes pet names when the two of you are alone together; at least until you’re married, so just stick to Robbo for him.

- Gentle cheek pinches.

- He secretly loves when you dote on him, paying him special attention and giving him a bunch of affection. He’s used to being this tough, threatening guy so he likes that the two of you can be soft with each other. 

- While it may not be incredibly obvious to everybody, deep down, Robbo really is a softie who just wants to see people happy and doing well. It’s always heartwarming to see just how sweet he can be; it reminds you of why you fell in love with him. 

- He always gets a bit bashful when you point out  how nice or generous he’s being, acting all modest and quickly changing the subject when you start to lightly tease him. 

- Getting spoiled. Robbo’s business is booming and he loves seeing you smile, why wouldn’t he shower you in gifts when he’s perfectly capable of doing so? 

- Having your respective beauty routines. It’s very important to him that the two of you look your best. 

- Compliments. He can’t help but give them to you. What can he say? You’re beautiful.

- He loves when you give him compliments. You can get on his good side extremely quickly with just a little flattery. It’s one of his weaknesses.

- It’s not a dealbreaker but Robbo does have a particular soft spot for traditional women. He likes modest, sweet girls; girls who won’t turn on him at the drop of a hat.

- Like I said before: Robbo likes to treat you like a lady and use his manners. He thinks you deserve to be treated properly and he acts particularly chivalrous when he’s with you; it’s honestly just a habit of his by now. 

- He definitely tries to keep you out of his business the best he can. He thinks that it’s no place for a lady, especially when things are so chaotic; which they currently are.

- He’s obviously a pretty busy man but he does what he can to make time for you. He always feels a bit guilty when he hasn’t taken you out in a while; even if you assure him that you understand.

- He always tries his best to be there for you and the important parts of your life. If it’s important to you, it’s important to him.

- Teasing each other. You’re one of the only people who’s allowed to give him a little hell. It’s always all in good fun.

- The people love him so they’ll love you too. All of a sudden, you’re going to get a lot of positive attention and random acts of kindness happening to you so just try to enjoy it.

- He’ll probably set up some kind of charity in your name or help you open up some business that you’ve always wanted to.

- Going out to dinner. He can always get the two of you reservations at any place you’d like.

- Pretty much everyone in your city likes the two of you so you can actually go outside and enjoy yourselves without worrying about public backlash.

- Taking strolls through town.

- Always having a drink ready for you.

- Inside jokes.

- Hanging around with Will, John, and the other men.

- Visiting him at work; if you aren’t still working for him. He’s a busy man but he’s always happy to see you. He’ll always excuse himself from whatever it was he was doing just to greet you. 

- Supporting him through his trials.

- Robbo never does anything half assed and he carries that sentiment with him throughout every facet of his life, including you. Everything he does for you is going to be 100% thought through and thoughtful.

- Your parents may not like that he’s a bit of a criminal but they certainly can’t say that they dislike him, not when the whole city loves him and talks about how kind and generous he can be.

- Loyal. You’ll never catch him looking at another woman or going behind your back for anything.

- He always tries to comfort you and give you advice when you need it, letting you know the reality of things and trying to talk some sense into you when it’s important.

- Robbo is a prideful man and sometimes his pride will cause problems, whether that be between you and him or him and somebody else. Sometimes you’ll just have to accept something and not put up a fight, other times you’ll have to try and reason with him before he gets himself killed. 

- Robbo isn’t easily fooled so he doesn’t get jealous unless he has a good reason to be. Even when he does get jealous, he does whatever he can to remain cool and collected, so if it was your plan to get him riled up: you aren’t going to get the reaction you wanted.

- The two of you are tangled up in a pretty dangerous lifestyle so he’s obviously going to be protective of you. He doesn’t like leaving you alone unless he knows you’ll be totally safe so get used to hanging around him and oftentimes his men.

- The two of you don’t fight very often but whenever you do, he has a habit of raising his voice without meaning to. Most of your fights are about something serious or because he’s worried about you so his brash response is oftentimes somewhat justified.

- He feels guilty almost immediately after he notices he’s upset you so he does his best to smooth things over as soon as he can. It never takes him very long to apologize when he’s in the wrong.

- He doesn’t tell you that he loves you all the time but he says it enough that you can never doubt that he does. He just prefers to say it when he “really means it” and not just because he’s “supposed to” say it; not that he doesn’t always love you.

- You can tell that he loves you just from the way that he looks at you. He always has this loving twinkle in his eyes whenever he watches you and it never fails to make you smile whenever you catch it.

- Robbo is genuinely pretty excited to marry and start a family so don’t expect to wait too long for him to pop the question; especially if you’ve stood by him throughout all the whole Gisborne situation.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

QE, inflation, slave labor and a People's Bailout

The Obama administration inherited a vast economic crisis. They responded with Quantitative Easing, pumping trillions into the finance sector to rescue the banks that had knowingly gambled on bad mortgages, losing so much they were about to go under.

https://www.cnbc.com/2017/11/24/the-fed-launched-qe-nine-years-ago--these-four-charts-show-its-impact.html

At the time, deficit hawks predicted inflation, which is a commonsense prediction: inflation is what happens when the amount of money chasing goods and services goes up faster than the supply of those goods and services, creating bidding wars.

They were right...and wrong. What we got was asset bubbles, especially in housing markets, driving up the price of putting a roof over your head rewarding speculators and landlords, especially Wall Street landlords.

And Obama's handling of the financial crisis put a lot of us under the thumbs of landlords! Obama bailed out the banks, but not the mortgage holders, kicking off waves of foreclosures.

Thanks to lax oversight, banks that had cheated to originate or service mortgages were able to cheat on foreclosures, too - stealing houses from borrowers who were up-to-date on payments or who were entitled to forebearance.

https://web.archive.org/web/20101017014628/http://news.yahoo.com/s/yblog_upshot/20101014/bs_yblog_upshot/is-david-j-stern-the-poster-boy-for-the-foreclosure-mess

I mean, literally stealing houses by the hundreds or even the thousands. The very same people who created the great financial crisis got bailed out, rather than punished, and used their new lease on life to commit even worse crimes with total impunity.

The houses that were foreclosed (and sometimes stolen) were flipped to Wall Street, who LOVE financial products based on peoples' homes. After all, people will move heaven and earth to keep shelter over their kids' heads.

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2014/02/blackstone-rental-homes-bundled-derivatives/

Corporate landlords built a sturdy, three-legged stool to guarantee the flow of rents to their investors.

I. Jack up rents to consume the majority of tenants' income:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2017/09/wall-street-owns-main-street-literally.html

II. Cease maintenance, knowing that your tenants have no recourse if their homes are crumbling and unsafe:

https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-housing-invitation/

III. Perfect the eviction, heretofore an American rarity:

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2017-01-03/wall-street-america-s-new-landlord-kicks-tenants-to-the-curb

America's housing crisis - substandard homes rented at unsustainable costs to people who had their own homes stolen from them by the same investors they're currently paying rent to - is a major legacy of QE, and it's definitely inflationary.

But it's a highly selective form of inflation. Many people won't experience it at all: if you owned your house before the crisis and weathered it, the asset bubble has made your home more valuable, while falling interest rates let you refi at rock-bottom rates. You're great.

You're paying less than ever for a home that's worth more than ever, but that's a spillover effect of the main show, which is the process by which millions of Americans were robbed of their homes and then moved into high-priced slums to the benefit of the 1%.

Both Obama and Trump have boasted of the economy's performance since QE, pointing to soaring share prices - share prices that are totally decoupled from company performance. Companies lose money and still gain value.

Indeed, predatory companies (like Grubhub, Postmates, Door Dash and Uber Eats) that destroy profitable companies (restaurants) while still losing money are booming in value.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/18/code-is-speech/#schadenpizza

Investors understand that consumers have no money, due to rising housing costs plus crashing wages, largely thanks to the "gig economy," a polite term for "worker misclassification."

Companies that get bailouts would be stupid to spend the money on jobs or new productive capacity to make stuff no one can afford to buy. Instead, they buy their own shares and declare dividends, driving up share prices.

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/20/the-cadillac-of-murdermobiles/#austerity

We have seen an incredible market bull-run since the Great Financial Crisis, a run that has largely continued since the pandemic. It's the other asset bubble: a bubble in investment assets.

Corporate leaders claim responsibility for these rises, but the reality is that it's the predictable result of bailing out banks and companies rather than workers and homeowners.

Société Générale's analysts say that about half of the stock market's gains since 2008 can be attributed to QE.

https://www.marketwatch.com/story/without-qe-the-s-p-500-would-be-trading-closer-to-1-800-than-3-300-says-societe-generale-11604688442

Top-down bailouts have multiplier effects. The banks are made whole, then they get to steal our houses, then they get to steal our rents, then they get to goose their share prices.

This is how the super-rich got even richer, before and after the pandemic. It's also why the tiny minority of Americans with adequate retirement savings saw them swell - it's another spillover effect of the great upward transfer of national wealth.

Why does all of this matter now? Well, between my writing my first paragraph and this one, Biden was declared, giving us what the Biden campaign signalled would be "Obama's third term."

Biden's taking office amidst a financial crisis that's far worse than 2008.

Biden has a long track-record of giving legislative gifts to the finance sector at the expense of the American people. They called him "The Senator from MNBA" for a reason.

https://www.gq.com/story/joe-biden-bankruptcy-bill

If he addresses this crisis the same way that he did in 2008 - the way that Congress and the Senate addressed the crisis in 2020 - by bailing out finance, not the public, we're seriously fucked.

Sure, the stock market will continue to rise and rise, as will house prices.

If you are in the 1%, you will get SO MUCH richer. If you're in the 10%, your retirement savings will swell, your mortgage will get cheaper, and your house's value will go up.

For everyone else: evictions, foreclosures, soaring rents, worse wages.

Last week, California voters passed Prop 22, safeguarding the right of gig economy companies to misclassify their workers as contractors and pay them sub-minimum wages, withhold benefits, evade payroll and unemployment taxes, etc.

Uber/Lyft spent $200m to secure that win.

As Prop22's promoters remind us: Gig work is the new unemployment benefit: it's a private-sector jobs guarantee, work you can get at the tap of your screen. It's a perfect labor market - workers effectively bid to offer the best price to perform servant work for others.

The more workers there are, and the more desperate their situation is, the lower the payments go. A lot of those savings are siphoned off by the (money-losing, stock-soaring) gig companies, but some of it is passed onto customers.

This is by design.

Since the Reagan years, neoliberal regulators and lawmakers have hewed to a radical anti-monopoly theory called "consumer harm." Under "consumer harm," monopolies are only a problem if they drive up prices.

Since gig companies lower prices, they are totally kosher - even if they secure monopolies through predatory pricing.

But there's an even more insidious side to "consumer harm" and the gig economy.

Misclassifying workers as independent contractors converts a brutally exploited workforce into a collection of "small businesses." If they get together and demand higher wages, THEY violate the consumer harm standard. They're a group of companies fixing prices!

We're 12 years into the QE experiment and it has demonstrated the relationship between government money-creation and inflation: inflation isn't the result of government spending, it's the result of government spending that leads to bidding wars.

Giving trillion to the rich created inflation in the things that rich people buy: our houses (out from under us) and stocks.

Now, imagine what a People's Bailout could do.

Imagine replacing the gig economy job guarantee (a workfare program with no workplace protections, job security or minimum wage) with an actual Job Guarantee as described by the economist Pavlina Tcherneva:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/05/the-hard-stuff/#jobs-guarantee

Federally funded, locally administered: good jobs at inclusive wages that served community needs proposed by community groups and approved by local governments.

Would that be inflationary? Recall that inflation is what happens when the number of buyers goes up and the supply of things they're buying doesn't keep up. Inflation is the result of bidding wars.

For a jobs guarantee to be inflationary, there would have to be a bidding war for the US workforce. That is the opposite of what we have now.

https://wolfstreet.com/2020/11/06/picture-emerges-of-a-weird-recovery-to-still-historically-awful-levels/

The reason no one wants to buy Americans' labor is that no one has any money to buy the things Americans make with their labor. The only people with money - the wealthy - primarily buy our homes out from under us, and stocks.

QE for the wealthy has made the economy incredibly perverse. Productive companies are being driven to bankruptcy by gig economy companies that lose money. Millions of workers compete to provide services for the lucky few, for dwindling wages.

Workers can't afford to buy stuff so companies have no reason to make stuff and so they become finance grifts, until they collapse, like Hertz did (after it converted itself from a car-rental company to an accountancy trick company):

https://pluralistic.net/2020/05/27/literal-gunhumping/#hertz-uranus

The gig economy jobs guarantee can't last. Eventually the number of workers bidding to serve the wealthy will exceed demand by such a wide margin that wages turn negative - the depreciation and payments on your gig economy car will exceed your income.

But a real, public sector, federal Jobs Guarantee? Yes please.

Paying workers good wages to do productive things that their communities need will create demand for the thing companies have decided not to make anymore.

In other words, it will enable companies to make profits again, and it will drive out the companies whose share prices soared on the expectation of losses (accompanied by dividends and buybacks). It will dampen the stock market, but improve the economy.

This will mean the end of those spillover effects - soaring house-valuations and 401ks for the lucky few - but those came at a VERY high price - vast un- and underemployment, the gutting of the productive economy, crushing debt for the majority.

America bought those house price rises and 401k gains at a steep price: it cost the nation its resilience and political stability.

If the goal of QE was to secure middle-class Americans' retirements, it was spectacularly wasteful.

A tiny fraction of QE's trillions went to middle-class retirements, while the vast majority went to making the 1% far, far richer. Most middle class Americans still don't have secure retirements - their dotage will be spent competing for gig economy jobs.

For the price of QE, the US government could simply have guaranteed the necessities of retirees: shelter, food, care. This spending would crowd out jobs, sure - the worst-paid, most precarious jobs, from fast food to gig economy "jobs."

It would make America into a country of secure and prosperous people, instead of food-delivery drivers and dog-walkers.

12 years of finance bailouts and 0 years of People's Bailouts have only exacerbated this, and the pandemic metastasised it.

When it comes to stimulus, America can't afford a third Obama term. We need to demand better of Biden - we need to demand a People's Bailout.

For almost* all our sakes.

*Offer not valid in America's richest ZIP codes.

[clovis-enthusiast]

Lotsa Clovis headcanons that you can pry from my cold dead hands

Keep in mind that these are just MY HEADCANONS! None of this is canon unless specifically stated! Feel free to agree or disagree. I juts rlly love my boy and his cabin and will gush about them for hours if given the chance.

Since there is a lot, I’ll put them under the cut so as not to clutter ur feed with my rambling! So uh click ‘keep reading’ to see me babble about my all time favorite character! Hope u enjoy if u read em and always feel free to send me a message about ur own headcanons! (I’m always thinking of more, so this post might be updated every once in awhile!)

He is very French. He was born in France and lived there for a short while before he and his mother (the reason I say mother instead of parent is because it was hinted at in canon that he has a mother. my go to name for her is Camille) moved to the US due to monster related problems. (He has a French last name. Something like Valois is my go to.)

French is his first language but because he moved to the US when he was quite young, he is very fluent in English. He often switches between the two languages when he’s EXTRA sleepy without noticing leading to a lot of confusion (and you can bet that he DEFINITELY swears in French because not many people at camp can understand him when he does. Those who do have a newfound respect and fear for him.)

He was initially a longtime member of the Hermes cabin even though pretty much everyone could guess who his godly parent was.

Was DEFINITELY a part of Luke’s army at one point due to the fact that he looked up to Luke as the older demigod had always treated him like a little brother, AND his godly brother Morpheus was also on Kronos’s side of the war. However, Clovis did not stay with them for long once things began to get bad and returned to Camp Half Blood with time. (Morpheus and Clovis now have a strained relationship.)

Best friends with Lou Ellen Blackstone of the Hecate cabin. They were both temporarily on Luke’s side of the war and were held with suspicion and distrust when they returned to camp, so they tended to stick by each other while the other campers warmed back up to them. Because of this, they are now very close and are always goofing around (much to the annoyance of the other head counselors aside from the Stolls, of course.)

Definitely had a thing for Nico di Angelo in the past. As the two boys are both the sons of underworld gods, Clovis had already felt a certain tug towards him. When he heard Nico’s story from the camp’s rumor mill (thank Lacy and Mitchell for that one) he became utterly infatuated. Over time, his curiosity turned more into a little crush which then became a BIG crush, but as neither Clovis nor Nico are really all that great with normal human interaction, the son of Hypnos’s flirting techniques sort of went unnoticed. That’s why Nico seems to be the only one being pulled into Clovis’s dreams at any given time despite Clovis being a ‘very strong dreamer.’ The truth is that Clovis has full control over who enters HIS dreamscapes. He tries desperately to impress Nico and help him out wherever he can, but when Nico eventually chooses Will to be his boyfriend, Clovis, though a bit sad that his first crush in a long time didn’t share the feelings, is VERY supportive. He loves to tease Nico about how hopelessly head-over-heels the broody teenager is over his sunshiney boyfriend. And if the two were ever to break up for whatever reason in the future? Well, Clovis is definitely still up for a shot.

Clovis and Nico are still VERY close. Clovis is one of the only people that Nico feels comfortable enough to be himself around and often confides in him whenever his negative thinking gets the best of him. Clovis also plays a big part in Nico regaining the memories of his past when he’s ready which he will forever be thankful for. The two obviously spend a lot of time together in dreams and greet one another in a warm fashion whenever they come across each other by chance at camp. This confuses literally everyone because literally no one has ever seen them interact before?? How are they friends?? 

Has HISTORY with Drew. No one is really sure what kind of history (it seems as if there was a little bit of memory erasure throughout the camp on the situation... hm...) but most people speculate that the two shared a romantic relation at one point in time. Turns out, they were NOT compatible, and the whole thing went up in flames. Drew still holds a huge grudge against Clovis who acts as though he could honestly care less. He still treats her politely though there have definitely been some not-so-subtle nasty looks cast across the campfire towards her direction before.

Also very close with Lacy and Mitchell from the Aphrodite cabin. Lacy feels terrible about Drew’s trash-talking and rumor-spreading and eventually works up the courage to say hi. They became fast friends, and Lacy definitely has a bit of a puppy-dog crush on him, but she is much too young for Clovis. He sees her as a little sister and allows her to put makeup on him, do his hair, and even tries on dresses and such just to make her smile. Mitchell, on the other hand, became friends with Clovis out of spite in all honesty and ended up liking the sleepy blond a lot more than he thought he would. He might have a teeeeeny tiiiiiny crush on him. Don’t tell Lacy.

Close with Pollux of the Dionysus cabin. Pollux sees a lot of Castor when he looks at Clovis which is a huge comfort to him. The two counselors have a lot of deep talks late at night, and Clovis always makes sure that Pollux is sleeping well without being haunted by nightmares. Dionysus would never admit it, but he is very thankful that someone cares that much about his only son.

Good friends with Rachel Elizabeth Dare surprisingly! He helps her out often, and the two like to sit and chat about mythology, artwork, and prophecies in the big house and at the campfire.

Has allies and friends in high places. Due to his powerful dreaming, he’s been to quite a few strange places and met quite a few strange people... or you could call them the gods, I guess. He knows a lot of the gods and goddesses from all kinds of mythologies (though obviously more of the Greek ones than anything) and they seem to like him well enough for some reason. (Probably because he’s one of the only demigods who doesn’t want to strangle them and doesn’t mind listening to them complain about petty godly things.) He often has little chats with them where he keeps them updated with the going ons of Camp Half Blood and they keep him updated about... godly drama. He kinda lives for it tbh. It’s part of the reason why he’s so informed about the gods.(Annabeth is maybe just the tiniest bit jealous.)

He’s a year round camper because it would be much too dangerous for him to go back to living with his mother. He stays in contact with her via dreams, letters, and Iris messages though!

MUCH more powerful than he lets on. He just doesn’t like conflict. 

One of his most frightening abilities is the ability to summon terrible creatures from people’s nightmares and use them to fight. He doesn’t like to do this as it can be very traumatizing for the people he uses it against, AND it’s not always a guarantee that the nightmare creatures will obey him.

His other more battle-ready powers are the ability to put an entire battle field into a deep slumber and memory alteration/erasure. He can use his memory alteration/erasure on monsters of weaker defenses AND demigods (though he feels much more comfortable using it on monsters.) He uses these powers to alter how monsters/enemies perceive demigods. Because of this, there are quite a few friendly hellhounds and scythian dracanae wandering about the camp. All of his powers are VERY draining and take a lot of concentration in order to work as intended. He will often sleep for days after a battle because of this.

He is also capable of fighting whilst asleep. In fact, his senses are heightened, and he tends to perform better this way. He also heals much faster while he is asleep. 

It is speculated that he will either grow wings from his head or his back, but it will not happen until he grows older. It’s a rare trait that few Hypnos kids (and Thanatos kids) develop, but due to Clovis’s power level, everyone is pretty much waiting for it to happen.

He can change his appearance at will in his dreams, but his aura is still the same, so he can still be identified pretty easily by people who know him personally. (As a side note, his eyes pretty much change color on their own to reflect the mood of the dreamscape he’s currently in. Gold, emerald, and violet are the most common colors. His true eye color is blue.)

Doesn’t really care about gender all that much. He has absolutely no problem with people referring to him using any pronouns (she/he/they) and is quite comfortable with himself in general. Many demigods who are questioning their gender comes to talk to him about it, and he’s always open to hearing them out and giving them advice.

VERY bisexual. Likes girls, guys, literally anyone who can keep him awake and interested for more than five seconds.

The unofficial official camp therapist.The role used to belong to Will Solace, but the truth is that the son of Apollo is much more comfortable dealing with physical ailments and problems he can fix medically than he is with dealing with feelings and mental ailments. Clovis is a very good listener despite the popular belief that he’s too busy nodding off to actually hold a conversation with properly and has a very calming aura that helps people feel safe enough to be vulnerable with him.

The go to babysitter of camp. Due to his Hypnos kid vibes, he is able to keep even the most rambunctious demigod and satyr children under control. His nap times are legendary. 

VERY big on respecting people’s privacy and boundaries. He tries his best not to enter any dreams uninvited, and he never talks about what goes on in people’s dreams ever. He also NEVER looks into people’s memories without their permission. He makes sure his siblings follow these guidelines strictly.

He literally lets anyone come into the Hypnos cabin at any time to get a good rest. The cabin has an open door policy.

New campers are often allowed to stay with the Hypnos cabin if they’d rather not face the chaos of the Hermes cabin.

Contrary to popular belief, his cabin is actually NOT the messiest cabin. The Hermes cabin wins that one though they’re followed closely by the Ares and Hephaestus cabins.

He and his siblings are some of the closest in the camp. They meet up and hang out in each other’s dreamscapes and have family nights. Clovis is the oldest AND is a head counselor, so he is very protective and responsible when it comes to his siblings.

Gives AMAZING massages. Leo and the entirety of the Hephaestus and Ares cabins are regular customers. Fight me. 

Actually a very good strategist when it comes to battles and such given that he’s awake enough to actually communicate his ideas. If you get them on your Capture the Team game, you’re already doing good. Annabeth and the Athena cabin love the competition, and they’re nearly unstoppable when they work together with him.

Clovis suffers from TERRIBLE narcolepsy, even for a son of Hypnos. It’s gotten him into a lot of bad and dangerous situations such as falling asleep mid battle, mid conversation, and even in the bath once when he was little. He has developed a fear of heights and water due to his condition.

Holds a lot of frustrations towards himself. Frustrated that he ever turned against the camp that offered him a home, frustrated that he couldn’t help Jason restore his memories, frustrated that couldn’t help more in the war against Gaea, just... frustrated. He tries to sleep off these negative moods because he doesn’t like to bring people down.

Absolutely not opposed to cuddling with people who are okay with it (he always asks first!) It’s a surefire way to get a good night’s rest since you’re so close to him, plus he’s very soft and warm!

Has a good singing voice, but just isn’t confident enough with it. He pushes through his insecurities to sing lullabies to those who really need them though. His lullabies are unmatched. 

Adores cats with all of his heart due to their lazy and relaxed nature, but he knows that he could never be able to care for one well enough. 

ALWAYS wears pajamas. Like all the time. Chiron has given up on enforcing the dress code. He also made sure to have custom made camp bracelets instead of necklaces to be sure that none of the Hypnos kids are choked/strangled by them if they happen to fall asleep in a bad place or position.

Lives in the past. Old movies, old music, old slang, you name it. I mean, he practically sleeps for the majority of his life, so it’s not all that surprising that he’s a bit behind the times. He thinks the modern age moves much too fast for him to keep up with.

The demigods of camp take turns making sure Clovis and his siblings are taking care of themselves. Walking them to the showers and dining pavilion, making sure they get a little sunlight each day, and the bare minimum of training.

He is the best boy.That is the only FACT that I do not accept criticism on. Thank you.

[itsyourchoice-hp]

Year 1: The Wrath of Professor Snape

Author's Note: I hope you are enjoying the story so far! Reviews are much appreciated, as I would love to know what you all think. ____________________________________________________________________________________   The student behind Cath had to give her a little prod before she stumbled forward onto the stage. The staff table was behind her, but she had little time to observe before she sat down on the stool and turned to face the entire student body. Professor McGonagall placed a massive pointed Wizard’s Hat on her head. It was so big that it covered her eyes. To Cathryn’s surprise, the hat began to talk to her. It sounded almost as if it were a voice in her head. “Ah, a Malfoy… Well, Slytherin could be an easy choice. You have the ambition, no doubt. But there is a brave Gryffindor heart in there, yes indeed… It seems you could belong in both houses,” it said.  Cathryn wondered if everybody else could her what he was saying to her. She was worried that it was taking a long time. What if the hat couldn’t decided which house to place her in? Cathryn couldn’t imagine the look of disappointment on her Father’s face when she arrived on their doorstep and told her parents that she didn’t belong in any house and therefore couldn’t attend school. “There is much you don’t know about yourself… so it had better be Gryffindor!” the hat exclaimed. Cathryn was stunned as the table to the far right erupted in cheers. The hat was taken off her head, and as she made her way off the stage, she caught a glance of Draco at the Slytherin table, who looked equally as surprised. In fact, most of the Slytherins were staring at her with scowls or mouths open in shock. She fought back tears as she hurried into a seat at the Gryffindor table. What were her parents going to say? Why was she the only person in her family tree who hadn’t been in Slytherin? “Cheer up, now, we aren’t all that bad!” a voice broke Cathryn’s anxious thoughts. She looked up. Sitting across from her were two identical twins, both tall and lanky with red hair and freckles - undoubtedly Weasleys. “Welcome to Gryffindor. I’m Fred,” one said, shaking her hand. “And I’m George,” the other said, taking her other hand at the same time and shaking it. “Hello,” she managed to say. Yet another redhead boy, who looked a couple years older than the twins and displayed a shiny Prefect’s badge on his robes, leaned over and glared at the twins. “Ssh!” he hissed. “That’s our brother Percy,” Fred explained. “He really puts a damper on things, that one…” George added. When Percy gave them another glare, both twins stuck their tongues out at him. As the Sorting continued, Cathryn looked around the table at everyone. She caught eyes with Harry, Ron and Hermione who all smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up. She managed to smile back, but felt a bit jealous as the Slytherin table cheered and hissed as two students in a row were sorted into their house. Ginny Weasley joined the Gryffindor table soon after (all the Weasley boys cheered the loudest) and as the last few students took their turns on the stool, Cathryn looked to the staff table. Hagrid sat at one end, beaming around at everyone and drinking from a massive goblet. In the very centre was an old man with a very long white beard and a blue pointed hat. He wore robes of light blue and gold and peered over half-moon glasses. Next to him was an empty seat where Cathryn presumed belonged to Professor McGonagall.  The professor next to the empty seat took her by surprise, for he was staring straight at her, his eyebrows knit together in a look that looked oddly like anger. He had sallow skin, a rather hooked nose and long, black hair that reached to his high-collared black robes. His staring made Cathryn feel quite uncomfortable, but as soon as their eyes met, he looked away and started at his plate for the rest of the Sorting Ceremony. Cathryn leaned over to the twins and whispered, “Who is the professor next to the empty chair?” The twins both grimaced. “Snape,” they replied. She nodded, remembering the conversation that she’d had on the train earlier. It seemed that nobody quite liked Professor Snape. And by the looks of it, he didn’t like anybody either - particularly Cath. Perhaps he was expecting her to be sorted into Slytherin too because Draco was? But why would he be so angry about it? *** Much to Cathryn’s surprise, a great horned owl dropped off a letter from home at the breakfast table the morning after the Sorting Ceremony had taken place. She opened the letter and unfolded the parchment to find a couple of lines in her mother’s handwriting: Cathryn, Congratulations on being sorted into Gryffindor. I am very proud of you, and I’m sure it will grow to feel like a home to you. We hope you are settling in well at Hogwarts. If you’ve forgetting anything, don’t hesitate to send us an Owl back. Much love, Mum   Cath frowned, picturing her Father with a very disappointed look on her face when the news came that she hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin. He had probably refused to let her mother write “we are very proud of you”. Cath usually wasn’t one to overanalyze, but such a short reply seemed like a good enough cause for worry. Perhaps her parents were going to shun her now. She was probably the disgrace of the family. It would cause her parents so much distress that her Father would lose his job at the Ministry and they would be forced to sell the Malfoy Manor that had been in the family for centuries… they would have to live in a small, dingy flat. They would be the shame of the Malfoy family - even Nana and Grandad would stop visiting. Or maybe, they would just throw her out of the house to begin with and she would have to start panhandling. Would Professor Dumbledore let her work in the school kitchens to earn her keep? The sound of a bell ringing shook Cath from her melodramatic thoughts. She quickly slung her school bag over her shoulder and followed the other Gryffindor First Year students out of the Great hall, deciding that she was probably overreacting to her mother’s letter. Pushing it to the back of her thoughts, she entered the doors of a cold and dark dungeon for her first class - Potions. The students were seated at round tables in groups of four. Cath joined Ginny Weasley, Esmerelda Goldsworth, Jeffrey O’Connor and, and Colin Creevy (a boy who was constantly asking to take Harry’s picture) at a table. Waiting for them at the front was a glowering Professor Snape. The dim lighting of the dungeon gave him a creepy and rather green look. “I expect my students to arrive at class on time. Not one moment early, nor one moment late. I will not tolerate my time being wasted, especially on First Year students who need all the education they can get,” he said sourly in a deep, sneering voice. Cathryn exchanged uncomfortable glances with the students around her table. “In my classroom, I expect students to behave with the utmost respect for the art of Potions. I have no patience for those who arrive late, talk out of turn, fail to complete homework, or do not follow my instruction. Failure to comply will result in punishment and deduction of house points. Am I understood?” he looked around, as if daring someone to speak up. The dungeon was silent. “We will move on to attendance. When I call your name, you will simply raise your hand,” he said, unfolding a roll of parchment that sat on his desk. Cathryn was certainly beginning to see what Harry, Ron and Hermione were saying when they had told her about Professor Snape. She was already beginning to dislike him. Whatever side of him Draco saw, he clearly wasn’t showing it today. “Adams, Christine,” he began. A girl with black, chin length hair raised her hand timidly. “Birch, Lauren… Blackstone, Michael… Creevy, Colin…” Snape continued down the list. His lip practically curled as he said, “Malfoy, Cathryn,” through clenched teeth. Cath raised an eyebrow, feeling a bit angry at his reaction to her name. Professor Snape scanned the classroom until his eyes rested on her, glaring. “Did I not instruct you to raise you hand when I call your name, Miss Malfoy?” he asked. She sighed through her nose and rose her hand in obedience. “Clearly you are already showing a lack of respect for the rules I’ve given you. Five points from Gryffindor,” he said. When he noticed the scowl on her face he added, “You will soon find out that not everything in this life will be simply handed to you, Malfoy.” He continued to take attendance as Cathryn’s face became hot with embarrassment. “He hates me,” she muttered.   “That makes two of us,” said Harry to Cathryn at a table in the Great Hall the following Saturday. The two of them, along with Ron, Hermione and Draco were gathered there, doing homework (or in Harry and Ron’s case, playing Wizard’s Chess). “Maybe he’s getting bored of picking on Harry, so he needs someone new,” Ron suggested, as his Knight took out one of Harry’s pawns. “Or maybe he just can’t favour two Malfoys,” suggested Draco with a sneer. “So he has to pick a favourite. “Draco,” Hermione chided him from behind a stack of books. “Well whatever it is, I’m not about to let him make a fool of me in front of the whole class whenever he pleases,” said Cathryn determinedly, now doodling on her Transfiguration homework. “It’s best not to fight fire with fire when it comes to Snape, like Harry does,” Hermione advised her. “I do not-“ Harry broke off before he could disagree with her. “Well… I suppose I do.” “Have you replied to Mother and Father’s letter yet, Cath?” Draco asked Cathryn, changing the subject. She just shook her head. “Were they pleased that you were sorted into Gryffindor?” Hermione asked. “It’s none of your business, Hermione,” Ron said, looking as if she had just said something offensive. Cathryn laughed as Hermione scowled at him. “They weren’t over the moon about it, that’s for sure. From what I could gather from the four sentences my Mother wrote, they were probably a bit surprised. My Father didn’t write anything at all. Maybe he died of shock.” “I’m sure they’ll get over it,” Draco said, though he didn’t look to sure of it himself. “You can always come stay with my family over the holidays if they disown you,” Ron offered. “They won’t disown you,” Hermione assured her. It was all very kind of them, but Cath couldn’t help but think that they didn’t know the proud, Pureblood Slytherin wizard that was her Father. If he was encouraging Draco not to hang out with his Gryffindor friends, the chances that he would be happy his own daughter was one probably wouldn’t please him. “Cath, you should come to the Quidditch game today,” Harry suggested. “Gryffindor versus Slytherin. You can watch me put your brother to shame.” “Eat dung, Potter,” Draco snapped. “We’ll see who’s going to be put to shame. My father got me a Nimbus 2001 as a present before the start of school.” Quidditch was the most popular Wizarding sport - one that was played in the air on flying broomsticks. Draco was a seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team, and practiced tirelessly every summer in their backyard. From what he had told her, Harry was also a Seeker - in fact, the youngest one in history. Normally First Years weren’t allowed to join the Quidditch team, but Harry’s skill had been discovered and he’d been given special permission from Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. Her father had mentioned something about special treatment when Draco had explained this, but even being the prideful brat he was, Draco admitted that Harry really was quite good. “You know what I got as a present before the start of school? My brothers old gloves. Gloves! What on earth am I going to need those for?” Ron grumbled bitterly. Draco snickered. “Well, it is quite cold outside, I’m sure they’ll come in handy if they haven’t got too many holes in them.” “Draco,” Hermione and Cathryn scolded in unison. *** As weeks passed, Cathryn began to feel more and more at home at Gryffindor. She got on well with the other girls in her dorm, most evenings were spent with Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny and their other Gryffindor friends in the Common Room, and (save Potions) her classes were most enjoyable. The brisk autumn air slowly gave way to wind and snow, and the day before it was time for Cathryn and Draco to go home for Christmas break, Hogwarts was covered in thick blankets of sparkling white snow. However, something very strange happened that day. The last class of the day had finished, and Cathryn and Ginny were walking along with their other classmates back to Gryffindor Tower so that they could get ready for dinner A strange sight in the corridor caused them to stop in their tracks and let out a gasp. They were standing in ankle deep water, and a cat belonging to the school caretaker was suspended in midair, appearing to be paralyzed. Ginny gave a sudden sob beside Cathryn and fled back the way they had came from. “Ginny!” Cathryn said. Before she could attempt to follow her, Professor McGonagall arrived. The sight made her eyes widen in shock. She lifted up the hem of her robes. “Your attention please,” she said immediately, loud enough for the group to hear. Other students attempting to go down the corridor were now gathered around, whispering to each other. “Everyone is to return to their Common Rooms immediately. This corridor is officially off limits until further notice, so please do not attempt to reach your Common Rooms this way.” The students began talking amongst themselves again, all conspiring as to what had happened. As Cathryn looked over her shoulder, Professor McGonagall began to perform spells that closed off the corridor. If Ginny had already gone back to the Common Room, Cathryn could not find her. Her reaction to the scene they had just witnessed both confused and concerned Cath, and when the bell rang for dinner, Cathryn quickly went to the Great Hall to find Harry, Ron and Hermione and tell them what had happened. The three of them were already talking about it as she took a seat beside them. “Did you hear?” Ron asked. “It’s so strange…” Hermione said anxiously.  “I was there,” Cath replied. “We were walking out of our last class, and the hallway was filled with water. Then, we saw Mr. Filch’s cat just hanging in midair. She was stiff as a board - she looked like she was paralyzed or something.” “Weird…” Harry said, shaking his head. “By the way… have either of you seen Ginny? She was rather upset when it happened. She ran off before Professor McGonagall could get there, and I didn’t see her in the Common Room when we got back,” Cath said. Ron shrugged. “She’s just sensitive, that’s all. I’m sure she’ll get over it.” However, Ginny never showed up to dinner and when Cathryn returned to her dorm that night, the curtains of her four-poster bed were already pulled shut. Cath lay in bed for a while, mulling the situation over in her head before sleep fell over her.

[easnuppa]

The outlawˋs way

Chapter 6, part 1

Will Dixon sat in the brothel’s parlour sipping his bourbon, surrounded by beautiful, young, half naked girls, probably younger than his son Merle, but Will didn’t care, he enjoyed the young beauty.

He looked across the table and onto his baby brother, he studied his baby brothers features, his dark brown hair, the man’s darker shade of blue eyes then his own. The man’s lean body, there were so many things that...

His trail of thought was interrupted as his oldest son Merle walked into the parlour.

"Pa, I have news about Daryl?" He said as he shrugged off the fresh snow that was coating his jacket.

"What news boy?" Will looked over at his son, Merle looked so much like him, the pale blue eyes, the blond short hair, the muscular frame, his brash attitude, the boy was truly his father’s son.

"What boy? Cat got yer tongue? I’m not gettin any younger here, come on spit it out?" Will barked. Merle walked further into the parlour.

"Rumour has it that a marshal has arrested him and is holding him in a town called Blackstone on the other side of the mountain pass, he will bring him to the next county to hang him."

Wills pale blue eyes darkened, people who knew Will Dixon were well aware that it was the first sign of trouble. Will leaned back into his chair and leaned his head back as he placed the glass of bourbon to his lips and emptied the glass in one gulp, he then patted the young whore’s ass who was perched up on his chair’s armrest.

"Be a good girl and show my son a good time, darlin’."

The whore quickly got up from her place next to Will and twirled her curvy body into Merles arm and pulled him up the stairs before the boy’s old man changed his mind.

Will looked over at his baby brother who met his stare with a cocked brow, after a while of the staring competition, Will lost his patience.

"What’s on ya mind baby brother?" Pat cleared his voice.

"What are ya gonna do about this? Are we gonna head out and check if the rumours are correct?"

Will could see how his baby brother was itching to jump on his horse. He twirled the empty glass between his callous fingers.

"There have been a lot of rumours since Daryl disappeared almost three months ago. I’m tired of chasing ghosts, I’m not as young as I once was," Pat leaned over the table, catching his older brothers pale stare.

"They are gonna hang your son and you don’t even bother to go get him out of trouble?"

Will smirked, Pat was leaning on both his hands, his brown tresses falling into his face and he had that same scowling look that Daryl usually gave him if he didn’t agree with his decisions, Will sighed.

"Why is it baby brother, that you are so eager to jump to the boys rescue?"

Pat looked at him dumbfounded.

"Are you kidding me? If they threatened to hang Merle, you would tear up the town to get to him." Will nodded agreeingly.

"You’re right, I would, no one touches or combs a hair on my own flesh and blood."

Will saw the confusion written in Pats eyes, and he was puzzled how his normally so bright and clever brother had not put the pieces together yet. He remembered when he had first heard about the young boy and when he had reached the brothel, he had seen the resemblance between his son Merle and the young boy, who at the time had a mob of blond hair.

As the boy grew into his teens, his hair had turned darker, almost brown, his eyes blue as the sky above, he kept the lean body and never filled out like Merle had done at the same age, there were so many similarities between his brother and Daryl.

When it had dawned on him, he had not gotten mad, the boy was his blood after all, even if he might not be his son, he didn’t blame his brother either, it was not unusual for them to share whores, what had annoyed him through the years was his brother lack of responsibility.

He never stepped up and claimed the boy although Will had his fun to try to push his baby brother to do so by letting the young boy go through hell in his teens. But Pat never did, he stood on the side-lines and watched as Will whipped the boy with his belt, how he poked the boy with burning sticks.

Pat shook his head; Will could see the distress that was riding his brothers’ eyes.

"If you’re so concerned about the boy, then take a few guys and ride over to Blackstone and check it out," Will said, almost tempted to call his brother out on who the boy’s father truly was.

He saw the relief written in those sky-blue eyes of his.

"I will take Harley and Dan with me; we will leave at dawn."

Will just waved him off and filled his empty glass.

"Make sure yer kid brings back my money," he said as he sipped the brown liquid, he saw from the crook of his eyes how his brothers’ shoulders tensed, and he slowly turned towards Will.

"What did ya just say?"

Will heard the worry latched to Pats usual hoarse voice, Will was tired beating around the bush and got up to his feet,

"Ya heard me baby brother, make sure yer kid brings back my money!"

Pat sky blue orbs flickered over the room, the rest of the gang was apparently listening in on their conversation, Pat stepped closer to Will.

"My kid?" His voice had suddenly reached a high pitch.

"That’s right, we both know that the boy is a spittin image of yer ugly mug, he takes after ya an’ all, yer hand with guns and horses, hell he even takes after ya when it comes to poker, the only thing he is lacking is yer way with the lady’s, the boy is so shy that only a smile from a woman sends him runnin."

Pat just stared at him and he gave Pat a friendly punch in the shoulder.

"Git yer ass upstairs and get some shut eye".

He watched as Pat stumbled towards the stairs, still shocked as he made his way up to one of the empty rooms. Will turned his attention back at his gang, suddenly well aware that his family business had just been put on display for the whole gang.

"Mind yer own business ya filthy sons of bitches, this aunt none of ya’lls business."

Will barked before he took his place in front of the fireplace, the room started buzzing again and Will leaned his head back and closed his eyes, happy he could still sweep the rug from under his baby brothers’ feet.

Jack had brought the wagon back to town, the temperature had dropped again, he walked up to the jailhouse while he rubbed his hands together to try to get the feeling back and chase away the frost bite, he pushed the door open and was met by a passing Grimes.

"Oh good, you’re back," he said.

Jack looked over to the man lying on the bunkbed.

"How is he?" Grimes went over to the cell and unlocked it and let Jack go inside.

"He has been delirious all morning," Jack nodded and with only one look at the man he could see that he was still feverish, he sat down and shook the man’s shoulder, forcing the man awake.

"Daryl you need to wake up and listen carefully."

The man stirred awake and looked at him with tired glazed over blue eyes, he had been sick for a week now and it was starting to worry Jack.

"Are you listening?" Daryl nodded weakly.

"I’m gonna get you out of here and bring you up to a cabin in the woods. But in order for me to make that happen we have to pretend that you died from the flue, the priest will come and declare you dead, the undertaker is gonna be with him and they are gonna wrap you up in a cloth and move you to the morgue, I’ll come get you and bring you up to the cabin tonight, but you can’t make a sound, the marshal has to think you’re dead, understood?"

Daryl nodded again. Jack was about to get up from the side of the bunkbed when Daryl grabbed his hand, surprisingly strong.

"Does Lissy know about yer plan?" His voice hoarse and barely a whisper, Jack shook his head.

"It’s for the best that she thinks you’re dead, she is the first the marshal will question if he suspect foul play."

Jack took a breather before he continued.

"I suspect your pa and his gang is on the way here, we need to make them believe you’re dead too, to make them leave the town alone. Once your strength is back, you’ll leave the cabin and not return to this town again, you’ll get a chance to start your life over somewhere else."

Jack watched as his words sunk in, Daryl swallowed and nodded.

"Protect ˋer," Jack grabbed his hand reassuringly.

"I will," he then walked out and met Grimes eyes.

"Are you ready?" Rick Grimes nodded.

"I’ll go fetch the priest then," Rick nodded, not bothering to lock the cell door.

The marshal stomped into the jailhouse just as the undertaker had finished wrapping Daryls body up in the white cloth.

"What on earth is going on here?" he shouted, eyeing the priest standing beside the undertaker holding the bible in his hands looking down on the wrapped body lying on the bunkbed. Grimes turned to the marshal.

"He died early this morning, we think it was sickness in the lungs,” the marshal cursed loudly, but remembered that the priest was in the room.

"I’m sorry father," he said apologetically.

He moved out of the way when Jack and the undertaker carried the body out of the door and placed it on the carriage. Jack then walked into the jailhouse.

"I guess we better take the sheets and blankets out and burn it," he said quietly and Grimes nodded.

The marshal hit his Stetson against his thigh.

"The son of a bitch, I was looking forward to watch the little shit dangle."

Both Grimes and Jack sent the man angry scowls, they couldn’t believe the man’s unsensitivity. The marshal face broke into a wide grin.

"Well no need to let this little incident ruin a good New Year’s Eve, I’ll be over at the saloon if you should need me."

Grimes nodded and closed the door after the man. He turned and Jack and Grimes just looked at each other.

Lissy and Mary Agnes had just sat down to eat their supper, but Lissy was just stirring her spoon around in the stew, Mary Agnes gave her a worried look, she had not seen Lissy like this since her parents died.

"Are you alright Lissy?"

Lissy looked up at Mary Agnes almost surprised to see her friend there next to her.

"I’m just worried, I have a feeling that something is just not right, and I wish Jack would have let me see him just one more time before he drove us out here yesterday."

Mary Agnes nodded, Lissy missed Daryl so much, she replayed the days they had spent together in her head over and over. Lissy felt Mary Agnes’ hand reassuringly on her hand.

"I am sure everything is fine Lissy, I know Jack and the sheriff wouldn’t let them hang him, you have to trust in them," Lissy nodded.

"I know, but I just think it is weird that Jack has been gone so long, I mean shouldn’t he be back by now?"

She saw the worry latched into her friends’ eyes as well, but she still managed to give Lissy a smile.

"Of course, I worry, but I know my Jack, he will come back when he can, there is no place in the world he rather be, than here with us," Lissy snorted.

"You mean here with you? You two are after all newlyweds, you two should have been spending the past two days in bed exploring each other."

Mary Agnes blushed deeply and waved off Lissy, but Lissy remembered that night she had built up the courage to seduce Daryl and how amazing that night and morning had been, for a man of very few words, who was so rough around the edges and so shy around her, he was very considerate and gentle with her between the sheets.

She would have never guessed that his mouth and hands could be so gentle and turn her into a shivering and trembling mess.

Jack had arranged a small ceremony out at the ranch with the priest in a few days’ time, the rumours where spread around town, although he doubted that anyone else then Lissy, his wife and the sheriff and the priest would show up.

No one really had gotten to know Daryl while he lived out at the ranch and when they heard he was a Dixon the hate towards him had rolled over the town. He had to shake his head to the stupidity of the people living there.

He had then sneaked his way into the morgue and smuggled Daryl out during the night and brought him up to the cabin, Rick Grimes had helped him stack up the cabin with food and water, so that Daryl could survive on his own, it had been a struggle to move such a delirious and sick man, but they had managed.

Daryl had collapsed on the small bed in the cabin and fallen asleep in an instant. Jack placed a mug of water and some dried beef jerky next to the bed, if he didn’t have the strength to get it himself, then he had jumped on his horse and rode all the way down to town.

There he had spent the night at his father in laws’, Grimes was already there when he walked into the house, and the three men had gone through the rest of the plan.

He had stopped by the store and ordered lumber and everything he needed to build a small house out on the ranch, he and his wife could not continue to live in Lissy’s house, not if they wanted a little bit of privacy. He was very eager to start a family with his beautiful wife after all.

Jack had also stopped by the newspaper and the postal office to send out telegrams and a ad that the ranch was now hiring help. He had started on his way out of town just as dusk set, he knew it was risky riding out to the farm in the dark with that much snow, but he couldn’t wait one more night to go back, he was itching to hold Mary Agnes in his arms again.

He placed his horse in the stable and mentally prepared himself to bring the lady’s the bad news, he knew this would crush Lissy, but making her think Daryl was dead would make the plan more believable.

The marshal was probably gonna come out and supervise the burial, to make sure the boy was really six feet under before he returned to his own town.

He watered his horse and gave it hay before he inhaled sharply and walked back to the house. He walked in and saw the two women sitting at the table with supper in front of them.

They both looked up as he walked in and met his eyes. They both looked worried, Mary Agnes swiftly walked over to him and threw herself in his arms and he kissed her deeply, but Lissy broke the silence.

"Is there any news? Is he getting better?" She asked hopefully, Jack looked at her apologetically.

"I’m sorry Lissy, I wish I could have better news for you, but he passed yesterday morning, on New Year’s Day."

He felt how Mary Agnes left his waist and he heard her gasp, but his eyes were fixed on Lissy.

He saw how she literally crumbled up in front of him, tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed the back of her hand against her lips, then a heart wrecking sob escaped her. Jack walked towards the table and slid down on a chair.

"I’m really sorry Lissy, but the marshal wouldn’t let the doctor see him, we guess he died from sickness of the lungs."

Mary Agnes was by her friend’s side holding her arms around her, comforting her while the blond woman sobbed into her shoulder. For a while it was only the sobs that could be heard through the small house, but Mary Agnes, practical as she could be cleared her voice.

"Will he be buried at the cemetery in town?" Jack shook his head.

"Your pa said there would be a riot in town if an outlaw like him was buried next to their loved ones. I agree, we don’t want body snatchers running around at night trying to dig him up. Your pa and me, and sheriff Grimes thought it was best if he was brought out here and buried on Lissy’s land, after all it was here he spent his last part of his life, and knowing how Lissy felt about him and what he told me he felt about Lissy, I think it is only fair that he is laid to rest here."

Mary Agnes nodded approvingly. Lissy looked up and wiped her cheeks with shaky hands.

"When?" Jack took off his Stetson and placed it on the table in front of him.

"Tomorrow afternoon, the ground out back is probably too frozen, so I say we find a good spot out at the edge of the forest where there’s not much snow, the trees are too thick, we will probably manage to dig in that soil."

He watched Lissy get to her feet and then she walked into the bedroom she had shared with Daryl, they saw how she just crawled into the bed fully clothed and laid down, she wrapped her arms around the pillow and sobbed quietly into the fabric.

Jack lifted his gaze and stared into Mary Agnes warm golden ponds.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, he nodded, and she placed a bowl of stew in front of him.

 

Pat leaned into the bar and swirled the glass of bourbon between his long but lean fingers.

Harley and Dan had already disappeared up at the second floor. Pat had told them to keep a low profile, he wanted to find out if the rumours were true.

The saloon was as good of a place as any to start, people always started to talk more freely with a little bourbon in their bellies.

As soon as he had sat down and a glass of bourbon was placed in front of him, he had noticed the marshal. The man’s voice boomed out into the room; Pat had more than once rolled his eyes from the man’s bragging. He had been tempted to stand up and put a bullet between the man’s eyes, just to make the man shut up, but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep calm.

Suddenly the marshal stood up from the card table.

"Well boys, this has been fun, but I have a funeral to attend. Gotta make sure the filthy dog gets buried and his slut isn’t hiding him at the ranch."

Pat watched from the side of his eye as the man put his Stetson on his head and marched outside.

He knocked on the counter and signaled to the owner of the bar that he wanted a refill, when the man walked over to where he was sitting, he looked at the man.

"Someone died recently?"

The owner leaned both of his hands on the counter.

"The marshal claimed that the young man working at miss Lissybeth’s ranch was none other than one of the Dixon boys, he went out there and arrested the young man and dragged the poor boy through the snow all the way into town behind his horse, I saw it myself. The boy was wet and frozen to the bone when the marshal locked him up behind bars. The marshal hasn’t stopped bragging about it.”

Pat clenched his jaws tightly but remained calm, the owner continued.

"The boy fell ill, the sheriff and deputy did what they could to help the young man, the deputy’s wife was there four times a day to make the man eat and drink, but the marshal refused to let the doctor come see him."

Pat swallowed not liking where this story was heading.

"The boy died?" He asked coldly, the saloon owner nodded.

"Three days ago, on New Year’s Eve."

Pat sighed and felt a claw squeeze around his chest.

"Dˋya know what the boy’s name was?"

The owner started wiping down the counter.

"Heard miss Lissybeth call him Daryl," Pat squinted his eyes.

"Ya sure it was Daryl?" The owner just nodded; Pat was gripping around the glass so hard it almost broke in his hand.

"What he look like? Tall, brown hair, lean body?" The owner nodded

"Where’s the ranch to this miss Lissybeth?"

 

the owner stopped wiping and looked at the man in front of him.

"Only an hour ride from town, west, it’s just between BlackRiver and Blackstone."

Pat nodded and gulped down the bourbon, the owner cleared his voice.

"Do you know the young man?" Pat slammed the glass down at the counter.

"It’s my boy".

The owner of the saloon literally dropped his jaw as he stared at the man.

"Tell my boys to wait here for me, looks like I have to bury my son."

The owner just nodded and watched as Pat walked out of the saloon.

Pat knew the marshal was at the ranch, so he kept his distance until he saw the people moving back to the main house on the ranch, it looked like his son, it still felt weird to think of Daryl as his own son and not his nephew, although he had used a lot of years wondering, when his older brother had said it out loud it suddenly became real, anyways it looked like Daryl had made some friends, the short period of time he had been there.

Pat turned his gaze at the freshly dug unmarked grave, he saw a woman standing in front of it, she was slender but had a nice figure, her pale blond hair was braided in a loose braid that hung down her back, he heard her sniffling and suddenly she fell to her knees into the dirt, he watched as she clutched the dirt.

@of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic

[relationshipsandpolitics]

How I Alienated My Potential Readers Part #2

And we’re back.   Here’s how we are looking after Part 1:

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Beto O’ Rourke, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, John Delaney, Pete Buttigieg

Well, some things have changed so we can just go ahead and remove Beto, which is a shame because I had a good rant about him sucking.  Alas, my genius will have to wait.

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Corey Booker, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, John Delaney, Pete Buttigieg

I debated where to put climate change in this breakdown.  For me, climate change is issue #1b for me.  If a candidate denied it, that would be an automatic disqualifier. It should be for every voter.  But I am surprised about how we all agree this is a dire issue that needs to be dealt with immediately, but the only candidate who made it their chief issue, Governor Jim Inslee, got virtually no support and was one of the first to drop out.  We really talk out of both sides of our mouth on climate change.  We all agree it is going to kill us, but we don’t seem to prioritize it, do we?   I have some thoughts about that, but I digress.  

The good news is all remaining candidates agree climate change is happening and that we need to act. The bad news is many of the candidates do not appear willing to take those drastic steps needed to stave off the worst outcomes. This is a problem.  Even the remaining candidates who are best on this issue leave a lot to be desire.  As it stands, I’m not removing anyone because no one is Republican levels of awful on the issue, but also no one meets the bar that needs to be set on genuine change. But seriously, we are all awful on this issue, me included.   We need to be taking steps in out personal lives to cut back on carbon emissions, and we need to be willing to pay more to save our planet.  The truth is if the leading scientific minds announced that to save our planet, we needed to raise taxes by 2% on everyone, we’d instead spend double that to buy front row seats to the end of the world.  We as a people truly suck.

Now let’s finally get into the issues that differentiate the candidates. This is really the whole game for me.  Because there are certain issues I care about tremendously, issues that I feel we need to address if this country is going to survive or if we will slip fully into the oligarchy we seem destined towards.  I’m talking about corporate power and workers’ rights.  Look, we all know the stats.  Income inequality is worse now than at any time since the Gilded Age.  That preceded the Great Depression.  Billionaires and corporations hold more power than the bottom 95% of the population combined. They can write a measly $5,000 check and get face time with the most powerful politicians in the country, and another $5,000 check gets them their full support.  I know this because part of my job is to write those checks.  I don’t try to get into too much about what I do, but suffice it say I work within politics very much behind the scenes. I don’t like what I do, even if I believe in the interests I advocate for.  People like me should not exist, but our corrupt political system not only enables me, but empowers me.

We all want a candidate we can trust to act in the average American’s best interest.  But we so willingly elect people who knowingly fuck us over in favor of the rich and corporate interests that it’s a wonder they even bother going through the motions trying to appease us.  And what have we got for it?  Unions have been decimated as lawmakers pass corporate-sponsored Right to Work laws.  Wages have stagnated while wealth for the top 1% has skyrocketed.  Americans are more productive than ever but seeing a smaller share of that productivity.   Compared to all other industrialized nations, we offer no guaranteed paid vacation, family leave, or health care. This is despite being the richest nation in the world.   College is a necessity to obtain a well-paying job, yet it costs hundreds of thousands of dollars to obtain, meaning anyone graduating with loans will be paying them off until they retire. Or die.

These developments are not a coincidence.  They are the results of deliberate efforts by monied interests.  Next, they will come after Social Security and Medicare, claiming we need to reign in the deficit.  And both Republicans and Democrats will heed their call, and we will buy their sudden concern about deficits.  They’ll vote to raise the retirement age and cut benefits, we’ll get mad, and then re-elect them anyway.

How does this rant relate to the upcoming 2020 elections?  It relates because the next decade will mark the point of no return, in my estimation.  Either this country will wake up to getting screwed and finally vote to do something about it, or it will cement its acceptance of the status quo.  Our descent into oligarchy has been relatively gradual because even the Democratic administrations have done little to stem the tide.  They’ve just slowed it down by promoting policies benefiting the rich while throwing tokens of support to the working class, which is everybody else.  They bump up the income tax rates slightly while ignoring the ways the rich really make their money.  They threaten anti-trust lawsuits but never follow through.   They bail out the banks and refuse to prosecute the heads of those banks.  Then they appoint them to run the Treasury Department. Republicans do these same things; they are just more brazen about it.  Whereas Democrats will announce tighter regulations on businesses but include weak enforcement and huge loopholes, Republicans simply get rid of the regulations. Republicans cut the taxes of the rich, Democrats keep them at the status quo.  

The next president has a unique opportunity to finally right the wrongs of decades of neo-liberal fiscal policy.  They can bring the country in line with the rest of the democratic world by pushing policies that help the poor, working and middle classes.   Young parents would be able to afford to have a child.  College graduates would be able to afford to buy home and have a crazy thing called disposable income because their college debt was wiped out and college itself became affordable.  People would stop fucking dying because they don’t have health care. Seriously, on this last point, what in the ever-loving fuck is wrong with people for not being willing to raise their taxes to fund universal health care?

We need to begin assessing potential candidates by what they want to accomplish to fix this issue.   And we can best determine if they will remain mired in the status quo of empty gestures and corporate checks, or if they will fight for us, by their words and actions.  With that in mind, I’m going to base my choice on whether the remaining candidates can be expected to support the fundamental restructuring of government and wealth equality.  I think you all know where I’m going with this one.

Corey Booker, Kamala Harris, Amy Klobuchar, John Delaney – The Technocratic Legislators

Here you have some good moderate Democratic legislators.  Booker, Harris and Klobuchar are sitting U.S. Senators while Delaney is a former Representative.  I don’t really have an issue with any of them, save maybe Delaney.  They all are effective legislators, even if they may be more moderate than I’d like.  I particularly like Booker and Harris as people if not politicians.  But at the end of the day, I can’t really rely on them to push the things that need to be front and center.  I don’t exactly know what their broad policy even is.  Sure, they will come out with a good sound bite or a good proposal on some smaller but still important issue.  Booker is doing great things on tackling issues facing inner city youths.  Harris is good on gun reform.  But Booker is way too closely tied with Big Pharma.  Harris has an awful record on criminal justice and did nothing to help homeowners defrauded during the housing crisis.

They both illustrate a major concern we should all share.  When you have a record of being too cozy with some terrible industries, it shows that the voters can’t truly trust you to have their back.  Campaign contributions are par for the course.  You need them to win elections.  But when you take a disproportionate amount of money from very specific industries, it means you are probably bought by them.  Don’t be surprised if Booker nominates a Pharmaceutical lobbyist to head up CMS.  And when private equity managers donate to Harris, as Blackstone’s Tia Breakley did in March, 2019, they are doing so because there is a reasonable belief that Harris and others won’t come after them.  

Again, I think Harris and Booker are good people and good legislators.  And the critique about money is not limited to them, as I plan on thoroughly ripping into Buttigieg and Biden on it.   But when you take these facts along with the truth that neither candidate is pushing the sort of structural reforms needed in this country, I think it’s fair to say their presidencies would be rather unremarkable.

Amy Klobuchar and Jon Delaney share the money problem, but they have so much more going for them!  Klobuchar treats her staff like absolute shit, which only matters when you remember that we are relying on her to protect all low-level workers.  She clearly has contempt for people beneath her on the career ladder, and a wise woman once said “when a person shows you who they are, believe them.”  

Klobuchar and Delaney have spent their entire campaign advocating not for what they believe, but for trashing other candidates who dare to dream. Klobuchar and Delaney come from the school of Democratic politicians who believe things are too hard to try, and we might lose Republican voters by trying to be Democrats.  The Klobuchar’s and Delaney’s of the world would be happy to adopt every major Republican fiscal position if it meant they got to be President.  Also, Delaney is the moron who thought it was a good idea to trash Medicare for All at the California Democratic convention.  

I would vote for Harris and Booker and not feel bad about it.  I’d feel weird about voting for Klobuchar, and Delaney has as much chance of the nomination as Scott Baio.   They are out.

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders, Julian Castro, Pete Buttigieg

We’re going to go after the young guns now.  The candidates we all secretly wish were just a bit better so that we didn’t have to choose from three candidates in their 70’s.  But these candidates are ultimately empty shells of better candidates who seem too concerned with appearing like the rational voice in the room to have a vision for our country.

Let’s start with Mayor Pete Buttigieg.   I was talking with my mother about who she was going to support in the primary.  Let me be clear that I did not initiate this conversation.  I’d literally rather talk to my mother about our respective sex lives than politics.  But my mother has a bit of a control issue, and this blog was cheaper than therapy.

Anyway, my mother said she was supporting either Biden (shocking, I know) or Buttigieg.  She said she liked that he was young, and it was great he was gay. I asked my mom what positions of his did she support, and she couldn’t really name any except that he didn’t support Medicare for All.  This was a selling point for her.  See, my mother represents a huge segment of the Democratic base that is upper middle class, socially liberal (except Kaepernick should’ve stood) and fiscally moderate (aka conservative but they swear they have homeless friends).  What this really means is they are Democrats when it doesn’t hurt them to be.  They think what’s going on at the border is abhorrent, but they know someone who was mugged by an “illegal” and we need a wall.  And they support the idea of everyone having health insurance, but no way will that mean they have to pay more in taxes.   They agree housing is too expensive, but then they’ll oppose affordable housing development in their neighborhoods because they attract a “bad element.”  For these people, Buttigieg is the ideal candidate. They get to keep their money and nice gated communities, but because he is gay they can call themselves progressive.   Plus, we know Buttigieg won’t do anything monstrous like keeping refugees locked up or denying basic rights to LGTBQ people, so how could anyone not support him?

Well, let me be the first to say that Pete Buttigieg is awful.  First, keep in mind this guy is the Mayor of South Bend.  That’s less a city and more a place for Notre Dame fanboys to “romance” the gold helmets in a sleazy motel.  He won his last election with 8,500 votes.  And he still managed to piss off a sizable number of his constituents by botching police relations with the black community.  And now people think he can run a country.  But he’s taken seriously because he raised a boatload of money and the pundits (also rich white people generally) like him.  Never mind where that money is coming from and what favors he now owes to those people, right?

Mayor Pete came out for Medicare for All but decided when it was political opportune to trash it using Republican talking points.  His actual healthcare plan is truly awful.  Pete Buttigieg is the darling candidate for voters who don’t want anything to change, like my mother. They have good health insurance.  They own their house and see it as an asset, not a noose.  They don’t have any student debt, mainly because they attended college when it cost the equivalent of an iPhone.  Buttigieg is a technocrat with a nice haircut. He is a lot like Obama, minus the everything. But his message is one of comfort to the people who own vacation homes in upstate New York and tie rainbow bandannas around their dog’s neck for Pride Week. Under a Buttigieg administration, civility will return and nothing else will change.  If the biggest criticism of Sanders and Warren is they have pie-in-the-sky ideas, then Buttigieg’s biggest critique is he has no ideas.  It’s just sad how little that matters to the people who will decide this election.

Julian Castro: you’re next. Here’s someone I kind of like.  He is great on housing, one of the core issues keeping Americans from feeling secure.  I live in an area once considered cheap for housing.  But that’s changing.  They keep building and building but rents still shoot higher and higher.   Sometimes I feel the laws of supply and demand don’t work with housing.  I mean, it works when there is low supply and high demand like in Los Angeles and San Francisco.  But where I live, there is plenty of supply, yet rents are increasing as much as 10% year over year.  Likely this is because demand is still high to live near an urban center.  It doesn’t matter if there are tons of vacant units. Renters are willing to pay the cost and don’t do a good job shopping around.  Also, as rents continue to soar while jobs continue to navigate towards major cities and people continue to need to live near those jobs, our commutes will get longer and longer.  This means more cars on the road, more pollution in the air. Solving the housing crisis means putting a huge dent in climate change. No one seems to understand the impact of not having affordable housing, but Castro comes fairly close.  I think I would go for him if he wasn’t so milquetoast on every other issue.  He gets completely lost in the shuffle.  I think Castro supports Medicare for All? I mean, I do know where he stands because I follow this stuff closely, but it should be clear to the average voter.  Castro is young, attractive and is relatively progressive compared to the field.  But he isn’t charismatic.  He doesn’t articulate his message clearly enough, and my big concern is whether he can create a narrative that gives his administration a chance to pass meaningful legislation.  It’s not that I can’t get on board with Castro based on policy, but I just don’t think he has the chops to get it done.  Castro’s other problem is he doesn’t speak to workers’ rights issues enough. He pays them lip service, and I’m sure he believes in increasing union membership and raising the minimum wage. I just can’t envision him fighting hard for those issues once in office.  I, quite frankly, see him as another politician pushing incremental change on some areas and tackling the low hanging fruit issues of the Democratic base rather than swinging for the fences.

Joe Biden, Elizabeth Warren, Bernie Sanders

And then there were three. I think we all knew it was coming down to these three.  Let’s not kid ourselves here.  We know who is getting the next ax, but the bottom line is these are the three true contenders and until things change, they are the only horses in the race.  So we will tackle them together in Part 3, which is hopefully coming soon.

[mindthump]

This Woman Entrepreneur Liquidated Her 401(k) to Co-Found Her Company. Now, It's Bringing in $100 Million. http://bit.ly/2W7IWOx

Trina Spear co-founded FIGS to reinvent scrubs for medical professionals. Here's how she did it.

May 28, 2019 7 min read

One Monday morning in June 2012, Trina Spear booked a transnational flight with four days’ notice and no regrets.

Hours earlier, she’d spoken to Heather Hasson for the first time over the phone about Hasson’s business idea, born from her quest to help a friend find more flattering work clothes.

Companies like Lululemon, Under Armour and Nike were focused on athletes, argued Hasson, but no one was catering to medical professionals. That’s why Hasson created FIGS, a direct-to-consumer line of fitted, flattering and comfortable scrubs.

A mutual friend had tipped off Spear, who worked on Wall Street at the time, about Hasson’s vision for FIGS. The Los Angeles-based company was still in its early stages, and Spears wanted to have a hand in its growth. After coordinating on Spear’s flight to Los Angeles, the two women played tennis (Hasson was impressed that Spears won), discussed what Hasson had created and made a game plan.

Over the following months, Spears flew out to L.A. every few weekends, and the co-founders regularly drove to hospital parking lots and sold scrubs out of Hasson’s car. They targeted times like 7 a.m. and 7 p.m., when doctors and nurses changed shifts.

“It was really early stages, but we were swiping credit cards on the side of a road outside of an emergency room,” Spears said in an interview with Entrepreneur. “That was really what gave me the confidence to leave Blackstone, to leave Wall Street, and take a rest.”

In January 2013, about seven months after her first phone call with Hasson, Spears took the leap -- leaving her Wall Street job and New York to commit to FIGS full-time in L.A. Since then, the company has grown by leaps and bounds -- snagging the fourth-largest funding round for a female-founded company in 2017. According to a FIGS representative, the company brought in $100 million in revenue last year.

Related: 98 Percent of VC Funding Goes to Men. Can Women Entrepreneurs Change a Sexist System?

In the interview, Spear offered advice for breaking into a stubborn industry and her story of the worst obstacle FIGS has overcome to date.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

What’s your advice for breaking into a traditionally non-wavering industry?

It’s important to be curious. Look around and ask, “Why?” When we started out, it was this obvious thing: Medical professionals wear scrubs, and this is the way scrubs are. It was a given that everyone took at face value. But why were they wearing such horrible scrubs? Why were they made of cotton? Why were they going into these stores and strip malls where there would be a rack of black, a rack of navy and a rack of white? Why did they have to have a V-neck?

It was that curiosity that enabled us to say, “Wait a second -- this doesn’t make sense, and these people deserve something better.” You see that around the world with disruptive companies: It’s about looking around at something and saying, “This doesn't make sense to me, and it probably doesn't make sense to somebody else, so why not come up with a better solution?”

Creating and manufacturing a better product was also key: a product that's antimicrobial, wrinkle-resistant and stain-repellent, with a four-way stretch-and-yoga waistband that looks good, that’s designed well. You can't be an apparel company in the 21st century if you don't have a product that people love and feel good in, and ... helps them perform in their jobs.

Related: Spanx Founder Sara Blakely Has 99 Pages of Business Ideas

Tell us what you wish you’d known starting out.

At the heart of fund-raising is this ability to present an opportunity and tell a story -- why something should exist but does not exist. People get caught up in this intimidating world of investors and fundraising and series A, B, C, D, and it is intimidating, but if you just boil it down to sitting across the table from somebody and telling a story about why something should exist, it does get a lot easier. That’s number one.

Number two is being resilient and persistent. We got hundreds of nos before we got that first yes. It’s about being able to push forward and not look back -- I always say "Take the rearview mirror off your car" in terms of building a company, bringing on investors and raising money. Move forward until you get that yes, until you cross that milestone.

What’s the worst moment that stands out to you from building your business, and how did you turn it around?

Early on, we had a huge issue with our production, where we swapped the inseams of our pants, so our men’s pant had a women’s inseam. And that’s the distance between the top of the pant and… well, you get it.

We only realized it after getting a number of emails from our male customers with “My Package” as the subject line. It’s funny now, but at the time, it was devastating. It was our first production run. We’d put all of our money into this company. I had liquidated my 401(k). So, to have this happen during our first production run was demoralizing. The total loss to the company was $100,000, which, at the time, was so much money.

We didn’t know if we would recover. We ended up donating a bunch of units that were on the smaller end from an in-seam perspective, but it really taught us a lot about production, about quality control and about ensuring that you know there're multiple stages of quality control. At this point, we have quality control at our fabrication stage, at our cut-and-sew, before it leaves the port, at our warehouse -- every T is crossed, every I is dotted. I’m almost happy in a way that it happened so early on because it ensured that nothing like that will ever happen again. Plus, it’s a great story to tell.

Do you have any words of wisdom for women entrepreneurs specifically, based on your own experience?

Given my conversations with male founders, I do believe it’s easier as a man. But as a female entrepreneur, you can't think about that. You can’t use that in any way as a reason for why you may or may not be successful -- at fund-raising or at anything in life. So my advice is to put that aside because you can always learn something from a meeting, whether someone is biased against you or not.

I learned to use specific nuggets and negative comments from a conversation as fuel to improve -- to become more familiar with my numbers, to hone a pitch, to redo a deck. I told myself I had to be that much better so I could win and accomplish all the things I want to accomplish. That’s what enables you to be successful -- not to come out of a meeting and say, “Well, he was sexist, and he doesn't believe in me because I'm a woman.” The more you do that, I promise you, the less successful you’ll be.

Related: Tax Deductions 2018: 42 Tax Write-Offs You May Not Know About

Over the next five years, where do you see the company headed?

We're very focused on the medical community, and we’ve been able to move beyond only scrubs into what we call lifestyle products: compression socks, vests, fleeces, jogger pants and more. We thought about outfitting medical professionals head to toe and thought: What are they wearing to work, at work and from work?

It's opened up this whole new world for us. We’re expanding into Canada later this year, and within the next five years, we plan to be in every country around the world.

[minisception]

So I saw this guy, ‘Haarkon Worldclaimer” when the warhammer community article went up (link), and I’ve got a lot of mixed feelings about him.

Starting with the good, I love the model.  Yeah, it’s super busy, but I actually really like that in a 40k era chaos marine lord.  To me it’s a great blend of the dark vengeance chosen and current raptor kit.  I like that there’s more of that mutated/daemonic look going than in the Blackstone Fortress character.  Lightning claw and... power lance?  daemon weapon?  Seem like potentially an odd equipment load, but that’s not too hard to convert around if it isn’t particularly effective in game.

Admittedly the posing & proportions are a bit weird.  At first I thought that the central chest armor detail would prevent him from seeing anything directly in front of him whenever he was just standing on the ground, then I noticed the oddly elongated midriff, and realized that his whole upper torso craned back to look forward mid leap, instead of just his neck, which is just sort of awkward.  Also, the connection to the base seems remarkably small and fragile, but that’s been a common problem with GW models lately.  When and if I get this guy for myself, I’ll have to build up the base a bit to provide some more stable contact points.

But again, overall I love the model.  The character on the other hand?  There I’m not so sure.

Before getting into lore stuff, rules-wise the “new characters” lately have just been generic heroes with particular, usually suboptimal, wargear.  The Blackstone Fortress lord is literally just a generic black legion lord with a thunder hammer.  Granted chaos lords can’t currently take thunder hammers, but still.  I kind of expect the same here, just a generic lord with jump pack, lightning claw, and... power lance?  The spear might end up being a unique daemon weapon, but those are pretty hit & miss.  Having a jump pack is a good starting point in the current csm ruleset, though, and it shouldn’t be too hard to convert an alternative weapon loadout, so even if ‘Haarkon Worldclaimer’ isn’t a competitive unit in and of himself, he will make a solid foundation for reasonably competitive conversions.  Well, to the extent that any generic chaos HQ that isn’t a daemon prince can be competitive these days.  So... he’ll be a nice display piece.

The lore side of things is the bigger issue.  I /should/ be excited to see a new name and face added to the Black Legion’s lineup, and I /want/ to be excited to see the legion get some more ‘screen time’, but past experience tells me not to get too excited.

Chaos Marines in general and the Black Legion in particular have a history of being used as the go-to jobbers of the 40k narrative.  It’s a reputation some authors have been fighting to reverse - ADB in particular has done a good job of that in his series covering the origins of the legion - but for every ‘Talon of Horus’ or ‘Black Legion’ that depicts the legion as dangerous and competent there’s a ‘Pandorax’ or ‘Fall of Cadia’ that depicts their soldiers as background fodder and their commanders as buffoons who either fail miserably or succeed despite their own best efforts to the contrary.

There’s this related problem of portraying Abaddon as discount bin Darth Vader and the soldiers under his command as knock-off storm troopers.  This despite the fact that, if any faction in 40k were to be the analog of Star Wars’s Empire it would be the Imperium.  Chaos marines are the rag tag rebellion relying on the individually superior skill and passion of its soldiers combined with hit-and-run guerrilla tactics to chip away at a larger and better supplied foe.

As such, Abaddon isn’t the supreme commander of an omnipotent military state served by countless interchangeable soldiers brainwashed from birth to be obedient to the point of self destruction.  Rather, he’s the head of a ramshackle allegiance of self interested traitors and turncoat drama queens.  Abaddon can’t just expect obedience from his forces, he actually has to convince them that they *want* to risk their lives for him.  Every time he kills his own people it makes it harder to buy that he’d ever be able to do that.  It’s a really awful bit of characterization that never worked to begin with, yet was so commonly employed that it came to define his character, to the point that his Battlefleet Gothic rules had him firing on his own ships if they missed a roll.

And that brings us back to the actual topic of this post, Haarken Worldclaimer, and I’m sorry to say it but everything about this character and his introduction screams ‘jobber’.  I mean, first, look at is name.  World”claimer”?  So he’s named not for something he’s /done/ but for something he’s boasted he /will do/?  That’s a pretty bad sign to begin with.  And what is it he’s claimed he’s going to do?  Win the Vigilus campaign by himself against like 9 other factions?  Including the big re-release/update of fan and franchise favorite Calgar?

Being showcased opposite of Calgar in particular screams that Haarken is not a serious new player to take note of, but rather a no-name, no-stakes easy win to make the aging Poppa Smurf look good after his recent hip replacement.  Once again, it seems the Black Legion are being employed as the ‘jobber marines’.

But Haarken isn’t just boasting that he’ll take Vigilus from all the other forces vying for it, he’s boasting that he’ll do it in a scant 80 days.  And that particular tidbit, to me, screams that the dev’s aren’t *just* going to have Haarken job to Calgar, but rather are going to have him slink away in failure, or worse keep fighting till the 80 days are up only to have Abaddon show up and kill him for his ‘failure’ in another example of GW clumsily and lazily aiming for “this guy is evil and scary!” but instead landing on “this moron is a bigger threat to his own followers than literally anyone else,” and I’d rather have no new Black Legion character at all than one that only exists to job, and in the process of jobbing to undo some of the hard work that’s gone into rehabilitating him as a credible threat.

So yeah, I *want* to be excited for a new Black Legion character, but everything about the setup for the ‘worldclaimer’ screams “this is a nobody who exists only to make your chosen faction look bad and who won’t even exist six months from now when his model is re-packaged as a generic unnamed chaos lord.”  I hope I’m absolutely wrong about all that.  I’ve been excessively pessimistic about CSMs in the past, so maybe I’ll be wrong again, but we’ll see. 

Honestly, even if I *am* wrong about all that, I still kind of wish this was a Night Lords character rather than a Black Legionnaire.  Even if Vigilus doesn’t go down like I expect it to, and Haarken does stick around long term, did we really need another Black Legion special character when Word Bearers, Iron Warriors, Alpha Legion, and Night Lords don’t have any yet, outside of a couple half baked Forgeworld heroes?  In particular, of all the legions that might want a jump lord model, wouldn’t Night Lords want it most?  If this guy had been a Night Lord to start, maybe the fact that there aren’t any other Night Lords named characters would make the dev’s less likely to waste him just to build up calgar.  And even if they did just set him up to job regardless, the night lords haven’t already been used in that role to the point of losing all respectability.

It’s rare enough that the Night Lords get any ‘screen time’ at all, so getting some focus, even at the cost of taking a loss, would probably be seen as a positive development by most Night Lord players, especially if they got a permanent named hero out of it.  Where as Black Legion already has a named hero, and have been overused as the losing faction in grand imperial victories to the point that, even after Fall of Cadia (which was a rather embarrassing “victory” to begin with), no coverage at all still seems preferable to taking yet another dive.

[switchcheek14-blog]

Could Philly ever be a game development hub? Nathan Solomon says no

Editor’s note: (5/24/19, 9:37 p.m.) Wow, a lot of you really hated this story! In all seriousness, I realize now that we — I — missed adding a lot of context here. Technical.ly has been covering Philly’s video game community for years, including most recently things like the Phillytron arcade, companies’ crowdfunding raises and when Philly Dev Night became Philly Game Mechanics. We’ve also brought a whole bunch of local game makers to our own events over the years.

So, yeah, there’s a lot more that could have been said here that wasn’t. This story came about because the author wondered what happened to Philadelphia Game Lab, specifically; it doesn’t look like we covered its 2016 shutdown when it happened. The headline and the interviewee’s responses are meant to represent one (challenging) perspective. Still, the result didn’t do enough to also acknowledge the history and current activity of indie game development in Philly.

I’d love to publish a response guest post or roundup of responses to this story, so if you have strong feelings, please do email me — julie@technical.ly. As always, thank you for the feedback. Seriously. -jz

For a few years before it shut down in 2016, the Philadelphia Game Lab (PGL) was a hub for those interested in building video games locally.

Originally, the nonprofit — not to be confused with the Philly Game Forge — was meant to be a kind of branch of another organization, the Grassroots Game Conference, before PGL founder Nathan Solomon concentrated on working with university students in game technology and development, which would eventually led to the founding of PGL. It shut down largely due to difficulties with its funding model and university partnerships.

There are a number of indie game development studios operating in Philadelphia right now, including PHL Collective, Cipher Prime, Gossamer Games and JumpButton Studio. But could the city still have aspirations for being a hub for the video game industry? Solomon says no.

Since Solomon’s departure from the game lab, he has become the director of Blackstone LaunchPad at Thomas Jefferson University. While he has not completely detached himself from the gaming community, he’s not a convener of it anymore.

I reached out to ask Solomon about the end of PGL, why the industry isn’t stronger in Philly, and whether indie developers have a chance to grow here. His responses have been edited for length and clarity.

###

We shut down in 2016. At that point we had held the Grassroots Game Conference for two years (2012 to 2013), then operated with focus on working with university students in immersive experience and game technology development as the Philadelphia Game Lab for two years (2014 to 2016). I actually started out with the idea that PGL would be a different sort of entity, and organically transitioned to the final model of working primarily with teams of university students and recent grads (about 120 individuals in total), in development of technology, in late 2013.

I can probably best organize the reasons for ending the project into two categories:

[First,] creative technology talent in Philadelphia lies overwhelmingly in universities. We had great relationships with professors and students at a range of universities, including Penn, CMU, Temple and Drexel. Students with whom we worked, especially at Penn and CMU, all loved this city but generally moved on high prestige tech companies on the west coast or elsewhere (unless they stayed here to work at Comcast). We were a step on that path, between university and prestige positions.

The bookend problem to that proposition, which eventually became clear, was that universities have a strong tendency to want to be in the position/role we were taking. We were squeezed between the universities wanting to develop IP/entrepreneurship and the tech companies to which our developers were inevitably bound. This made it hard to see how we could flourish in the long term.

[Second,] I founded PGL as a 501c3 in the belief that that structure would both facilitate university relationships, and be helpful in finding additional funding toward our mission. The problems we ran into with this approach were around the reality that our best and most promising funding sources ended up being in commissioned technology development.

We grew from $7,000 in revenue in 2013 to ~$700,000 in revenue in 2014, that went entirely toward paying students and recent graduates in this region — which created a problem unique to nonprofit structure, in that we could take no investment to continue that growth, and that a nonprofit cannot take on a credit line until it has three years of audited financials. The latter meant that every month or so, I had to approach a board member for bridging funds to carry us until we receive payment from a client for the work we were currently doing.

The institutional funding that we’d hoped would be aided by 501c3 status never materialized, for a couple of reasons. The first is that funding for economic development and regional job creation is (quite reasonably) much more focused on the unemployed and unskilled, rather than the highly skilled students with whom we worked — a majority of which were grad students. The second is that much grant funding is also dependent upon a longer history of audited financials.

Historically, video games tend to require a set of skills that have not aligned well with those of endemic Philadelphia businesses. Where else are 3D modeling, creative C++ programming and game design needed here? All of those things align well with motion picture/animation, theatrical embedded systems/theme parks, and other areas of expertise that are big in Los Angeles, Central Florida, NYC, etc. In addition to that path, there are locations like Austin and Maryland that have organically grown specifically as a result of game developers who started businesses there during periods of the industry’s greatest expansion.

In a place like Austin, there are a lot of developers, working for a number of game development entities. When one business goes under, a developer can move to another. That’s a much more appealing situation into which to be hired than going to a city where there’s only one game company, so it’s really a big deal to decide to become that sole game company in a city.

The only way something really major in games could come to Philadelphia would be if they parachuted in a fully formed, fully backed team of experts. There’s one example I know of that happening anywhere in the past, 38 Studios, and that did not work out well.

I previously worked with the folks in New Orleans who got a Louisiana tax break passed for game development, and that had negligible impact for them. [Editor’s note: Solomon also didn’t think tax credits would work here in Philly when they were proposed back in 2014.]

Canada does a better job with creating centers of opportunity in game development, largely because of the high quality and low cost of appropriate university training, and also because instead of tax breaks it directly subsidizes industry employees’ salaries. That said, its centers (Toronto, Vancouver, Montreal) also have some of the same endemic industries requiring skills with high applicability to game development that I mentioned previously.

I believe that the best opportunities for something like game development being truly significant in this region are in development of immersive experience. The biggest centers for this in North America are Los Angeles and Montreal. Montreal because it has a nexus of technical and creative talent, not unlike what is beginning to form in Philadelphia. Data shows that one of the best business categories here is live entertainment, so that immersive entertainment is strategically aligned with local opportunity in a way that games never were.

Absolutely, it’s a great place to live and to exploit one’s own skills and talents. The barriers would lie primarily in the fact that they are highly unlikely to find creative day jobs in the industry here and they are even less likely to find others with depth of experience and skills here.

I should also mention a minor factor that impacted PGL and would likely affect most indie developers starting up: Because there isn’t a base of experienced game industry people here, when you have a game business in Philadelphia that runs into barriers, and go to ask local people for help and resources, they’re unlikely to be able to dive in and be really useful in helping you to next steps. There’s a strong likelihood that you’ll get the response “you’re the visionary; just make this work like you always do!” I got to a point where I didn’t have answers for what we should do next here, and neither did anyone else.

I’m director of the Blackstone LaunchPad for entrepreneurship at Jefferson University and I also spend a fair amount of time developing immersive works and technology in collaboration with creative engineers and other folks. We just patented a new method for large-scale deforming of physical spaces for responsive experiences, and are working on a few other projects.

I’m also trying to get good enough at Fusion360 to better develop additive and subtractive-manufactured components for installations. I come from cinematography, so my practical skills are largely in optics, light and physical rigging.

-30-

Source: https://technical.ly/philly/2019/05/24/could-philly-ever-be-a-game-development-hub-nathan-solomon-says-no/

[dylan38sanders]

PSAV Acquires Encore Event Technologies: What It Could Mean for Event and Meeting Planners

You’ve probably seen the headlines “PSAV Acquires Encore Event Technologies” but don’t know how it affects you. If you are an event or meeting planner you’ve heard of PSAV. In fact, it’s highly likely you’ve done multiple deals with them. Will this merger change that? If you aren’t familiar, PSAV is an industry giant founded in 1937. They provide in-house AV and production at convention centers, venues, and hotels such as Kimpton, Hyatt, and Marriott, across the country. This month on January 14th, 2019, PSAV published a press release announcing the purchase agreement for PSAV to acquire Encore Event Technologies.

By acquiring arguably their biggest competitor in the United States there is no question they stand to dominate the market. This has caused quite a stir in the industry. The news makes for shaky ground and uncertainty for meeting and event planners nationwide. In an attempt to understand what this acquisition will mean, we did a bit of research and reached out to our Event Icons to see what their opinions were. We will get to those later but first before we dive in let’s go back in history.

In order to fully understand how big of an impact this acquisition let’s take a look at a bit of the recent history of PSAV’s acquisitions and their climb to the top.

October 2012

Kelso & Co. the private equity firm that owns PSAV announced a merger between PSAV and Swank Audio Visuals, at the time Swank was the preferred in-house AV provider for over 375 hotels and resorts in the US, Canada, and the Middle East.

January 2014

Olympus Partners, Goldman Sachs acquire PSAV  

January 2015

PSAV acquires American Audio Visual Center “an in-house, high-end production company based in Scottsdale, AZ. AAVC has been supporting clients with “Extreme Customer Service” and cutting-edge technology support in partnership with over 65 hotels and resorts, as well as through a full-service boutique production division.”

December 2016

PSAV acquires Southern Audio Visual, with the acquisition came valuable partnerships with luxury hotels and strengthened their hold on key markets. PSAV President and CEO, Mike McIlwain stated in the press release “The addition of SAV is an important step toward PSAV’s goal of being the ultimate local resource for corporate, association, and event planners around the globe.”

October 2017

PSAV acquires Hawthorn Theatrical, LTD. one of the biggest live event production companies in the UK strengthening their global presence.

January 2018

PSAV acquires Hargrove a leading experiential events and exhibitions production company. “The acquisition brings together in one ownership group an experiential events and trade show company with one of the largest event experience providers in North America and Europe. It represents the ownership group’s entry into the global trade show market and accelerates its expansion into live experiential events.” AVNetwork

November 2018

PSAV acquires Concise, expanding their portfolio into interactive apps for live events. In the press release Mike McIlwain, president, and CEO for PSAV stated: “Concise will help us address our customers’ continued desire to leverage technology to improve audience engagement and event execution with a clear return on investment.”

June 2018

PSAV agreed to be acquired by Blackstone, one of the world’s leading investment firms. In the press release regarding the acquisition, Mike McIlwain, president and CEO of PSAV stated “We are very excited to partner with Blackstone, one of the world’s preeminent investors in the hotel, tradeshow, travel and leisure, and business services sectors, to support the next phase of PSAV’s growth,” Mike went on to state “Through this partnership, we and Blackstone intend to drive further innovation and growth alongside our world-class roster of venue partners and meeting planner customers.”

October 2018

PSAV acquires FMAV, Canada’s largest audiovisual and event technology company expanding their reach into Canada.

January 2019

PSAV acquires Encore Event Technologies. PSAV and the Freeman Company jointly announced the companies have entered into a purchase agreement for PSAV to acquire Encore Event Technologies creating the largest hold on in-house AV in North America.

Why You Should Care

As you can see from the timeline above it’s no secret that PSAV is determined to grow and expand but that’s most businesses goal. So why should event and meeting planners care?What do these mergers mean for you? Is it really going to change anything? After all acquisitions in business are nothing new, Corbin Ball put it best “Mergers and acquisitions have been standard operating procedures with many of the large companies in the event tech space. PSAV’s acquisition of Encore Event Technologies makes sense as it will add capabilities with their focus on AV support.” This is true, but is it good for the industry as a whole having such a strong hold on the industry?

While ultimately only time will tell we see this acquisition potentially going 3 ways.

It Shows a Strong Industry

Nick Borelli, President of Borelli Strategies believes “it’s a healthy sign to for the industry to have someone committed to being the biggest and having the most amount of assets. It’s a stage that vital industries go through and it shows maturity on the macro level of where we are in the live experiences field.”

This Could Spell Disaster

Because PSAV will own most of the market they will be able to charge whatever they want. They could create high barriers to dissuade competitors from entering the arena. It could also mean a lack of choice for event and meeting planners and more. Essentially this happening would be really bad for event and meeting planners. Michael Juden, Regional Director of Technology at Convene commented “The acquisition of Encore Technologies by PSAV will create a monopoly for AV production in most U.S. major markets. This will greatly impact the event and meeting planning industry because planners will now only have 1 technology option at hotels, limiting options for flexibility in their venue selection process. Given PSAV’s high costs of AV solutions, there is a massive opportunity for non-hotel venues like Convene, a growing network of full-service meeting and event venues, to supply their own AV solutions with a preferred partner or internally at highly competitive rates.”

Adding to that Brent Taylor, President Timewise Event Management Inc. notes  This acquisition is dangerous as it pretty much provides PSAV a monopoly in the provision of in-house services. Time will tell if they will take advantage of this and push the in-house AV and outside supplier fees even higher.”

It Could Bring New and Fresh Opportunities

The acquisition could turn out to be really good for meeting planners and hotels. Usually when hotels bring AV companies to bid on for the exclusive in-house AV contract hotels typically will go with the company that gives them the biggest kickback and the best incentives. Because of their stronghold, PSAV will have less incentive to give back a large commission to hotels. After all, they are the biggest player with little competition.

But this might be great! This could means hotels might be looking for a new way to bid.  That could potentially mean lower commission rates which in turn could lower event and meeting planners AV costs.  Brent Taylor, President Timewise Event Management Inc. believes “ that this does provide a greater opportunity for regional event technology companies to move forward with geographic expansion. Not everyone wants to engage with large multinational corporations. I am most curious to see if venues will continue with PSAV or look to smaller companies for in-house services. My guess is they will go with whoever provides the greatest source of revenue while trying to manage the quality of service.”

Conclusion

It’s hard to say what this means, the news is still fresh. Only time will tell what impact these acquisitions will have on the industry. It is safe to say PSAV has a strong hold on the market in North America. What the effects of the acquisitions will be are yet to be seen. We want to know what your opinion is! What do you think of the news announcing that PSAV acquires Encore Event Technologies? Will this create opportunities? Is it business as usual? Do you feel it’s a danger? Comment below and let us know!

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from Endless Events https://helloendless.com/psav-aquires-encore-event-technologies/