#after my declaration of war against the music of my neighbors

[orion-archives]

"Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time

And turning all against the one is an art that's hard to teach"

In his plan of making the last yellow one a soldier that would work under his command, Betrayus trains Pacster personally, teaching him how to fight, defend himself, shoot different types of weapons and all the other things that turn Pac from a common teenager into a ruthless war machine...

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dave Maass and Patrick Lay’s “Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis”

Berliners: Otherland has added a second date (Jan 28) for my book-talk after the first one sold out - book now!

"The Emperor of Atlantis," is an opera written by two Nazi concentration camp inmates, the librettist Peter Kien and the composer Viktor Ullmann, while they were interned in Terezin, a show-camp in Czechoslovakia that housed numerous Jewish artists, who were encouraged to make and display their work as a way of proving to the rest of the world that Nazi camps were humane places.

Of course, it was all a sham. Like nearly all of Terezin's inmates, Kein and Ullmann were eventually shipped to Auschwitz to be murdered. "The Emperor" was never performed during their life, but the manuscript, written on scrounged paper (including the backs of other inmates Auschwitz transfer papers) survived.

In the decades since, "The Emperor" has been mounted a few times, with varying degrees of faithfulness. But those live performances were limited to the people who could attend them during their limited run. Now, a new graphic novel called Death Strikes: The Emperor of Atlantis, brings the work to us all:

https://www.darkhorse.com/Blog/3726/berger-books-and-dark-horse-comics-present-death-s

Death Strikes was adapted by my EFF colleague Dave Maass, an investigator and muckraker and brilliant writer, who teamed up with illustrator Patrick Lay and character designer Ezra Rose (who worked from the Kein and Ullmann's original designs, which survived along with the score and libretto).

The tale is set in the mythical kingdom of Atlantis, where the reclusive emperor has been holed up in an armored tower for decades, directing a forever war, greeting each battlefield report with fresh orders, all the while carefully scheming to maintain his grip on power by prolonging the war footing among his people.

But the Emperor has a problem: he's won the war. Every enemy has fallen. Without endless war, his system of social control will shrivel and he will be vulnerable to his people. So the Emperor declares a new war of all against all, announcing that it is every citizen's duty to make war on their neighbors. Problem solved!

But the Emperor goes too far. In announcing his new war, he directs his messengers – drum-beating automata who march through the streets of Atlantic rapping out his edicts – to claim that Death himself has blessed this new war, and "when the final drum sounds, our old friend DEATH, our flag-bearer, will raise his sword in salute to our great future!"

For Death – a swordbearing skeleton in a soldier's greatcoat and shako – this is too much. The Emperor's endless wars have already tried Death's patience. Death brings mercy, not vengeance, and the endless killing has dismayed him. The Emperor's co-option drives him past the brink, and Death declares a strike, breaking his sword and announcing that henceforth, no one will die.

Needless to say, this puts a crimp in the Emperor's all-out war plan. People get shot and stabbed and drowned and poisoned, but they don't die. They just hang around, embarrassingly alive (there's a great comic subplot of the inability of the Emperor's executioners to kill a captured assassin).

The Emperor will not be denied. He embarks upon a war of wills with Death, to see who will give in first. The surreal tale plays out among the people of Atlantis, the living and the undead, as they struggle to fight a war where no one can die. The tale cuts between these people, the Emperor, and Death, who is in company with Life, a sad harlequin who is even more demoralized than Death by the Emperor's long war.

What follows is a tale of revolution and love and hope snatched from despair.

Maass discovered "The Emperor" through a bargain bin CD of "degenerate music" he found in a suburban Best Buy in the 1990s, which was accompanied by illustrations by Art Spiegelman:

https://www.allmusic.com/album/the-music-survives%21-degenerate-music-music-suppressed-by-the-third-reich-mw0000711660

Maass found a six-panel cartoon Kein drew "expressing his frustration with the evolution of his libretto." Over the years, Maass turned this little strip over and over in his head, until he found himself travelling to Prague with Lay, where they were able to handle the surviving manuscript pages. After consulting with experts all over the world, Maass and Lay and their collaborators created this extraordinary graphic novel, updating it, queering it, and lavishly illustrating it.

While this is clearly an adaptation, Kein and Ullmann's spirit of creativity, courage, and bittersweet creative foment shines through. It's a beautiful book, snatched from death itself.

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/23/peter-kien-viktor-ullmann/#terezín

[nataliesnews]

Not a happy country 30.1.2024

 had visitors for lunch yesterday and then went  to a concert at Mormon university. It was very good although I am not like the rest of my friends who are very erudiet  music is concerned. I just let it flow over me. But the compere gave us a good laugh when at the end of the talk of turning off your cell phone, etc, she said,"If there should be a siren, please stay in your seats,' and after a few seconds, said "And pray" ....a laugh we all need in these hard days.

UNRWA worker said to take part in kibbutz massacre, another helped kidnap a woman

I put in all the links and PDFs for those who want verification of what I write. 

I wish I could send you a video of this paragraph. If a Moslem had to throw a grenade on a synagogue or church I can imagine

"While the call to prayer was broadcast last night in the village of Boudros, in the center of the West Bank, one of the soldiers asked his friend to film him throwing a stun grenade inside a mosque in the village while the faithful were being called to prayer".

Last night at the demonstration. so true....that only when the kidnapped are returned, can the rest of us start to heal ourselves.....and if they are not returned there will be a scar that will never be healed. After the Shoah there was Israel....but Israel without the captives. It is not only the immediate family but all those and the circle grows wider with everyone you speak to.  No one can understand what we are going through unless they have lived through the last months. 

This is what Gershon Baskin wrote today.

" I have written this before and I will write it again especially after the decision of the International Court of Justice. More than 2 million Palestinians in Gaza will remain our neighbors even after the end of the war. Israel destroyed and erased a large part of Gaza. There is already a vacuum of governmental authority in most of the territory. The humanitarian crisis is enormous. The residents of Gaza need food, clean water, medical equipment and medicines, tents, blankets, warm clothing - and they need it urgently. Hamas boycotts a significant part of the aid entering Gaza. Israel should allow aid to enter from the north, center and south of Gaza under Israeli military escort to ensure that the aid reaches the people who need it and so that it is not confiscated by Hamas. This is not only the right thing to do, it also serves Israeli interests vis-à-vis the world which believes that Israel's intentions in Gaza are to remove the Palestinians from Gaza forever. It has nothing to do with the condition of the abductees. Denying aid to the non-combatants of Gaza will not improve the condition of the abductees at all. The threat of stopping aid will not affect Hamas in a positive way - it can directly affect the condition of the Israeli abductees. So let's do the right thing now regarding aid to Gaza."

And if you think of this as a democratic country then read this about Cassif and also the PDF about another Araba citizen. Then of course there is the Israeli teacher who was sacked for his views. 

As MKs debate Cassif’s expulsion, he rails against ‘Kahanist’ attempt to silence him

Far-left legislator's actions in support of genocide accusations at The Hague may not cross 'criminal threshold,' legal adviser says; 'I never supported Hamas,' Hadash MK declares

How the army lies in the face of a video....these people are the ones who will bring Israel to disaster. I would like the settlers to go back to Gush Katif but under the same circumstances as the people of the south were when they were attacked by the Hamas......with all the soldiers and much of the weapons of the area taken to defend the settlers of the occupied areas while they were partying in Arab villages. And as for the item below......when the army defends them they are so courageous. 

Two children carrying Israeli flag slip under Gaza border fence amid settler activity

Incident occurred as activists planted trees in closed military zone; adult heard telling kid to 'plant the flag well'; IDF says children didn't cross into Striphttps://www.timesofisrael.com/two-children-carrying-israeli-flag-slip-under-gaza-border-fence-amid-settler-activity/

Do you ever watch Netanyahu's eyes when he speaks. He is just like Kahane was....so shifty. And he is trying his best to get the blame shifted on to others. I listened to him last night for once and was amazed at how he manages to lie. Last night he had the chutzpah to attack the families, saying that they are demonstrating against him.....not one word of empathy. This while, one son hangs out in Miami with his two bodyguards who should be ashamed of themselves and come back to serve, and another whom it is not known if he is serving.....and if he is it is probably in a safe place.  Check out the PDF of would you send your child to serve in the army.....why does no interviewer ask him the question where his sons are. I really do not understand it. That is the question that should be asked each time.

,

12 ministers call to resettle Gaza, encourage Gazans to leave, at jubilant conference

15 coalition MKs also take part, with many dancing at right-wing confab attended by thousands; Likud minister appears to endorse coercive measures to promote Palestinian emigration

And if this at the bottom is true, this war will go on and one with no end.

US, Israel believe up to 80% of Hamas tunnels intact after 114 days of war – report

Israeli official estimates 20%-40% of network damaged or put out of order during war; military reports 'high-intensity fighting' in Khan Younis, skirmishes elsewhere in Strip

So if up to now we have wiped out 20% you can work out how much longer the war can go on.

Natalie --

[foximator-blog]

More Mario AU details and headcanons.

Just more random stuff related to my alternate universe, so I will mention Ocs, and some things might be a little weird. Some are geography related, but I'll have individual character ones too.

GEOGRAPHY HEADCANONS

The Mushroom kingdom, Bean bean kingdom, and modern day Hyrule are technically separate land masses, but are close enough to be connected by some of the largest bridges in the world. Though there is a smaller stony and crystal island between the Mushroom kingdom and Bean bean kingdom that's treated as the "border" so to speak.

The Koopa kingdom is also pretty close, but not close enough to build a bridge. During Bowser's weird kidnapping days, he'd sometimes set up temporary "main" fortresses on temporary volcanic islands created by his and Kamek's magic.

South of the Mushroom kingdom mainland is Isle Delfino, and further south of that is the Rainbow isle, where Rainbosaurs like Yoshi originally come from.

Diamond city is on a smaller island neighboring the Metro kingdom.

The DK isles are actually a group of islands with different ecosystems connected by tropical beach areas in between them all. The center jungle island the Kongs live on is called Congo Bongo, and the Kremling King K Rool has taken up the spooky swamp island, and hopes to conquer the others.

The Empire of Sarassaland is actually on one of the biggest continents in the world, made up of 8 kingdoms. It's the only remaing empire in the world.

Wart's kingdom is located in the clouds, and kind of drifts around freely. He once took over the Pastel lands where Birdetta and other Palettesaurs come from, but after Mario and co defeated Wart, the Palettesaurs liberated their lands from his army.

CHARACTER HEADCANONS

The Kongs use special music related magic to fuel their strength and agility. Each kong uses a different instrument that relates to their style and personality, and the magic becomes much stronger when they play their instruments in harmony.

Of course, the Magical banana hoard also plays a role in their strength... Though the Magical bananas are used as the main ingredient of Cranky Kong's potions, or sold to restaurants in the Metro kingdom so the Kongs can participate in trade and economics.

These magic banana restaurants are somewhat popular, and may be why Metro kingdom residents have become so tall over the years.

The Kongs and Kremlings were once on opposite sides of a great war... Though the Kongs did win, their numbers have dwindled, which is why K. Rool keeps trying to take them over.

K Rool isn't actually a king, but as the only surviving general of the Kremling army, no one questioned him when he decided to declare himself one.

K Rool wants the bananas so he can make magic fueled super weapons.

Bowser may kidnap Peach from time to time, but he's actually pretty diplomatic and a fair king despite his great pride, so he hates tyrants like Wart, K Rool, or King Boo.

King boo cries victim, but his real reason for hating the Mario bros is because they were the first to survive his ghost house, and King boo is frustrated because his army relies on luring foolish mortals into his house in order for them to die and join his ranks.

Ramona rightfully hates King boo because of what he did to her... but she has gotten the hang of standing up against his creepy advances, especially with the help of her own loyal following of Boos.

Good boos look like the classic in game boos, and they are loyal to Ramona. Dark evil boos have darkened faces and violet eyes, and of course are loyal to king boo.

Dry Boss (dry bowser) is the skeleton of a dragon koopa reanimated by King boo to be his second in command. Similar to boos, Dry bones who are loyal to these villains are darker and more sinister looking.

Bob-ombs are a combination of magic and technology, and after they explode, they will regenerate over time. Bigger bob-ombs contain more magic and explode with a wider radius... at the cost of taking longer to regenerate.

King Bob-omb is considered a king by other bob-ombs not because he rules a kingdom, but because he is the biggest and most powerful of them, and has the ability to change his size to alter his blast radius. Such power is considered "Kingly" for bob-ombs.

Captain Syrup oddly enough, favors ice magic in my AU. Aside from being able to create swords of ice, she also lacks temperature sensitivity because her magic keeps her regulated. She could just as easily bundle up in a volcanic area or go sunbathing on an iceberg if she wanted to.

My OC Blitz actually doesn't habe a true magic alignment... but he has used the super ball flower E. Gadd created quite a bit, and his body has become rather cartoonishly stretchy and flexible as a result.

While most of the time Mario or a group are responsible for the heroics, the Sunshine and Oddysee events are the only times in the AU my OC Fritz ends up being the hero in the end.

The oddysee events are the last time Bowser engages in his weird kidnapping shenagins. Afterwards he's a full on ally in thwarting enemies like King boo, Wart, or K Rool.

I probably trailed on too long, sorry ^^;

[buckysbitch107]

I don’t know if requests are open, but if they are can I request a Steve Rogers x Reader where at the end of end game he goes back to his lover from the 40s but instead of Peggy it’s the reader(include any backstory that you want)? Like even his compass contains the picture of the reader and not Peggy. I love your wring so far btw, keep up the good work!!!

Home Isn’t Just A Place | Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When Colonel Phillips himself delivered the letter stating the love of your life (and best friend since 5 years old) was dead, you were more than devastated. You were still mourning the loss of your fiancé, mindlessly fiddling with the ring on your finger, when a much harsher knock rang at your door. You expected it to be perhaps your sister or a delivery boy. What you certainly didn’t expect was for your fiancé, who you were told was dead, to be standing at your doorstep.

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Crying

Word Count: 2.38K

A/N: Hope this meets your standards! I tried my best with this one and i hope you enjoy it! Just a reminder that I will always be accepting requests! I will be writing a Part 2 to this, so stay tuned!

“It’s fine guys! I can cook something in the apartment!” You speak, the men on either side of you giving you a small glare.

“It’s our last night, (Y/N/N). We wanna make it special before you’re alone in the apartment.” Steve mentions, wrapping his arm around your waist. You’re still taller than him, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“That restaurant isn’t that good anyway.” You whisper, trying so hard to hide the disappointment in your voice. You’d been looking forward to sitting in that restaurant since it opened, and when Bucky and Steve said they were taking you, that meant you could finally get a chance. That is, until you got there, and they didn’t have your reservation.

“Doll-” Bucky starts, soon being cut off by your voice.

“Guys. It’s fine, really.”

“No, it’s not (Y/N)! We wanted to treat you to something special, and now it looks like we’re having cabbage fuckin’ stew for dinner… again.”

“Or,” You pause, lifting your arm to point at the sign hanging off of the corner store at the end of the street. “We could get some food from Stan’s. It’s still open and we have enough money for some hot dogs.” The two men agree shortly after and the three of you quicken your pace, eager to get some food in your stomach. The small bell above the door rings through the air as the three of you walk in, the owner walking out from the back.

“Steve, Bucky, (Y/N)! Nice to see ya! What can I get for you?” Stan asks, his smile always bringing comfort to you three.

“Three hot dogs and three cokes please!” You respond, offering him a small smile yourself. He nods and taps some button on the register, pulling the crank before turning his head back up to you.

“Thirty cents please.” You start digging in your wallet when a hand stops you, and your head snaps to meet Steve’s eyes before he starts digging in his own wallet. He hands the man 30 cents before discreetly grabbing your hand, a small chuckle leaving your lips. Stan walks to the back and returns with three hot dogs in hand. He sets them down on the counter before reaching in the fridge and pulling out the drinks. You take them and thank him before walking out the door, Steve and Bucky following you out with their own.

“Let’s go to the docks! Watch the lights in the city!” You propose, turning back to face the two men. They agree and you all walk down to the docks, finishing your food and drinks shortly after getting there.

“Sorry, it had to end like this, (Y/N/N).”

“Meh, I liked this ending better. At least this way I can say fuck.” You giggle, turning back to look at your boyfriend. A soft melody fills your ears and you search for the source of the music. You soon find it as a band plays at an oceanside restaurant, where people are probably dining on the finest steaks and champagne, but you’re happy right where you are. Steve’s hand grabs yours and he smiles, both of his hands wrapping around your waist.

“Dance with me, doll.” You nod before placing your hands around his shoulders, the two of you slightly swaying to the music. Bucky lets out a short laugh before leaning against a lamppost. Steve grabs your hand and spins you around, the blue dress flying up around your waist as he twirls you in his arms. Your eyes drift closed as he continues to spin you, a laugh bubbling out of your mouth, and you finish turning and open your eyes to see Steve on one knee.

“Oh.” Your hands fly up to cover your mouth and you see Bucky smiling out of the corner of your eye as Steve pulls out a ring.

“I know, I know it isn’t much, but it’s what we could afford.”

“Wha-Whe-How?” You whisper.

“Well, we saved up for a bit.”

“I think you’re supposed to give a speech now, Stevie.” Bucky comments. 

“I’m getting there!” Steve responds, making you let out a hoarse laugh before you start choking on your sobs. “Doll, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, Buck being a close second. You’ve always been there for me when I’m sick, which is a lot. I wanna be with you forever. I want to have kids with you, I want to give you the best white-picket-fence life I can. I swear to love you for the rest of our lives, if you’ll be mine. What do ya say doll?” By this time, your hands have migrated from your mouth to your chest, and you wipe your eyes while nodding your head, choking out a short “yes” before Steve slides the ring on your finger. As he stands up, you begin to cry harder as you pull him into a bear hug. He pulls away and you place both hands on his shoulders, looking at him sternly.

“You better come back to me, you hear me?”

“I promise I will, doll.”

“No, I need better than a promise.”

“I swear on my life, dollface. Besides, I wouldn’t leave my best girl behind.”

~~~

You’ve seen all the adverts and movies about the one and only Captain America. People see him as a hero, as the man who punches Nazis straight in the face and kisses babies, but you still see him as the little guy from Brooklyn who couldn’t run the mile from fourth grade on. Yes, you missed your fiance very much, but you had faith that he would keep his promise and come home after the war. A few months after Bucky and Steve left, you picked up a waitressing job in a mom-and-pop diner on the weekends and weeknights alongside your job as a science teacher. Bills aren’t going to pay themselves, and Bucky and Steve aren’t here to help you. You walk in the door, returning home from your morning shift at the diner, planning on quickly changing clothes before running out and volunteering at the animal shelter, something you always did on Saturdays. You throw on a simple dress, the pale yellow glowing in the sunlight streaming in from the window. Your plans suddenly change when a knock rings at your door.

“One second!” You yell, finishing pulling up the zipper on the back of your dress before walking over to the door, opening it to see Colonel Phillips himself. “Colonel Phillips.”

“Miss (Y/L/N). May I come in?” He asks, the solemn look on his face causing an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Of course, sir.” You open the door a little bit wider and he enters the apartment.

“You may want to sit.” You follow his instructions and sit yourself down at the kitchen table, now noticing the letter in his hands. “I wrote it all out on paper, but I also figured I should tell you in person.” He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Captain Rogers crashed a plane into the ice to save the lives of millions of people yesterday morning. I would have gotten here earlier but there were some complications with the plane.”

“No.” You mumble, standing up to directly face the colonel.

“He has been declared Killed in Action, along with James Barnes.” Your head snaps up at his comment, tears already pooling in your eyes.

“What-what do you mean they’ve both been killed in action? What-” A sob rising in the back of your throat cuts you off and you have to steady yourself against the table. Phillips places the letter on the table as you try to quiet your sobs. He quietly nods his head before turning to the door, about to step out when you choke out a short “wait”. Colonel Phillips turns around as you compose yourself, wiping the tears off your face.

“Yes ma’am?”

“Am I allowed to give you a hug?”

“Yes ma’am.” You wrap your arms around him and place your head on his shoulder, the colonel hugging you back shortly after. The two of you pull away and you whisper a small “thank you sir” before he nods and walks out the door. You turn around and grab the letter, ripping it open before focusing on the words carefully typed on the page:

Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N)

437 West Clermont Street

Brooklyn, New York, USA

11201

I regret to inform you that both Captain Steven Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes have been killed in action in service of their country. As you know, Captain Rogers freed over 200 men across enemy lines in Azzano, Italy. He then formed a squadron, the Howling Commandos. That squadron took down more enemy bases than any other in history. It is with deepest condolences that we regret to inform you than on Saturday, February 19th, Sergeant James Barnes fell out of a moving train while defending Captain Rogers. On Friday, February 25th, Captain Rogers crashed a plane into the Arctic in order to save over three million lives from nuclear bombings. Not only has America lost a soldier, America has also lost a hero.

Deepest regards,

Colonel Chester Phillips

A loud sob erupts from your mouth as you throw the letter on the table, your hands quickly covering your mouth.

“No. Nonononono, they can’t be dead. I can’t- I can’t do this alone.” You back up against the wall, slowly sliding down as your fingers thread through your hair. It’s only when you look back at the ring on your finger that your tears of pain turn to those of anger. “YOU PROMISED!” You scream, not giving a damn if the neighbors can hear you. Your head falls into your hands as you curl up into a ball, your sobs echoing through the now eerily empty house.

“You promised.

~~~

It was a nice funeral. A lot of people you knew were there. Dum-Dum, Gabe, Jim, and Monty came, while Jaques sent his condolences. It was small, but Steve would have liked it. Yeah, you sobbed, but so did everyone else. You sit numbly in your house, the walls no longer filled with laughter, the floors no longer covered in flour and paint, now only scuff marks from your pacing panic attacks. You’re mindlessly fiddling with your ring when a knock sounds at your door, this one sounding louder and overall harsher than the other ones you’d been experiencing for the past week. You stand up and walk over, not caring to check the peephole before opening it. And standing there, is the man you were told crashed a plane into the arctic.

“Wha-”

“Hi, doll.” You slowly start shaking your head before walking away from the door, simply leaving it open.

“No, no. Nonono. You crashed a plane into the arctic. Your signal went dead. You were presumed dead! I’m going mad, I’ve gone absolutely bonkers and now I’m imagining the love of my life is in my living room when he’s buried somewhere in the Arctic!” You rant to yourself, tears slowly gathering in your eyes. You stop when Steve puts both hands on your shoulders, stabilizing you and forcing you to make eye contact with him.

“God, is this what happened after I crashed?” He mumbles, looking up and down at your frantic form. Your clothes have become a little looser, your hair a little thinner, the bags under your eyes just a bit more noticeable. But that’s not the only thing that’s changed. You look at Steve and notice he looks… different. He looks older and more exhausted.

“You aren’t my Steve?”

“Sit down doll, I have a lot of explaining to do.”

~~~

“So you’re from-”

“Yeah.”

“But you still-”

“Mhm.”

“And I’m still-”

“Yep.”

“But wouldn’t this-”

“Nope.”

“Huh. And this Thanos dude he-”

“Eliminated 50% of all living beings. Yes.”

“And you’re back here because you’re delivering the stones back to their original places in time and wanted to see me?”

“Yeah pretty much.”

“Huh. Okay.”

“So, can I have this dance?” He stands up and reaches his hand out to you. You smile and take it, the man pulling you into him. You notice as the two of you start swaying that he’s suddenly more relaxed, and that he’s definitely gotten more muscular over the years. You dance for a little while longer before he tilts your chin up, meeting your lips for a gentle kiss. “God I missed you doll.”

“I missed you too.” The two of you stay silent a little longer before he pulls back slightly, a serious look on his face. Uh oh.

“Come back with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Come back with me. To 2023.”

“Stevie, I can’t. I have so many responsibilities, and it could mess up the timeline and-”

“Nope. Already checked with the Ancient One. Said it should be fine as long as no one knows about it.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, you can meet my friends, and we can finally get married, and Bucky will-”

“Wait what? Bucky’s alive?”

“Oh yeah, he was captured by HYDRA but we got him back.”

“You’re gonna need to catch me up on everything.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“Fine. I’ll come with you, but if I throw up it’s your fault.”

“Deal.”

~~~

“I’m trying to bring him back!” Banner yells, flicking switches and pressing buttons on the dash. Bucky bites at his cuticles, something he does when he’s nervous, also something you used to yell at him for. The launchpad starts whirring again and both Bucky and Sam’s heads shoot up at the noise, not familiar with it at all.

“Um, is that supposed to happen?” Sam asks.

“Only when there’s more than one body being transported.” Banner mumbles, pressing a few more buttons. “Okay. Bringing him back in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.”

“AH-oomph.” Bucky’s eyes widen as his brain registers the yellow dress, the sparkling eyes, the dazzling smile.

“(Y/N)?!” He yells, giving both you and Steve a confused look. You sit up on the launchpad and look around, not familiar with any of your surroundings.

“Hiya Buck! Oooh, love the hair! Nice to see it change from the ol’ buzzcut.”

Permanent Tags: @wintersoldierslut​ @breakmy-bedbarnes@stuckys-hot-dogs​ @andreasworlsboring101 @yaxamarvel @donutloverxo

Just a reminder that all requests are open! My masterlist is in my bio, so you guys know who I specialize in, but really I do anyone y’all request. As I’ve mentioned, nothing is too fluffy, angsty, smutty, or gorey for me. I mainly write Marvel and its characters/actors. I can also write some characters from other things, you just have to ask! Also please let me know if you want to be a part of the Permanent Tags! But please, for now,

Call me Emily

[suzey8888]

“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history. If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching. “We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls. She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers. “Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.” No so. Hitler is welcomed to Austria “In 1938, Austria was in deep Depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates. Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs. “My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’ “We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living. “Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back. “Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler. “We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed. “After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service. “Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage. “Then we lost religious education for kids “Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education. “Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.” And then things got worse. “The first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free. “We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had. “My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly

any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination. “I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing. “Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler. “It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy. “In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death. “Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men. “Soon after this, the draft was implemented. “It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys. “They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines. “When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat. “Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service. “When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers. “You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government. “The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had. “Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna.. “After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything. “When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full. “If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries. “As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families. “All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing. “We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables. “Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands. “Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control. “We had consumer protection, too “We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency

specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it. “In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated. “So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work. “I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van. “I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months. “They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness. “As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia. “Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily. “No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up. “Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.” “This is my eyewitness account. “It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity. “America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away. “After America, there is no place to go.” Kitty Werthmann ***Re-read the part where she says “everything was free” - healthcare and so on. Very much worth reading twice.****

[pinktatertots99]

...so...is it too late for me to re-make the almost entirety of candy into my own self indulgent bullshit? dont try to make sense of some these pics some are either old ideas or me bullshitting cause my mind runs a bajillion miles per hour and made an alt idea: tootsie-verse where shit might make slightly more sense and i get to have fun with ideas i didnt get to see be possible.

so far plot so far ala everything:

-once the gang ended up at the 5-000+ yrs of earth c the original method WV had established had changed during that long time, with kingdoms being a revived concept, allie-ships between them broken or re-mad, laws of a firm unfairness and a seat for mayoresident of the earth kingdom needing a new canidate

-after dropping there catav had taken the currently refridgerated gamzee to the woods to help sober him up after everything, handing the corpse’s that were still in there to kanaya after she’d found the newly hatched mothergrub was low on material needed to activate it as the troll kingdom was on a rather firm law on how much to give making it difficult to get a full load.

-six years later -23 for everyone- things were in motion with everyone having some form of jobs as jane elected to work on becoming the new mayoresident of the human kingdom and fix these tightass laws, while conflicting with her past trauma, hiding it and trying not to show how fearful she has been lately over the highbloods -mostly the seadwellers-

-during this time the newest clutches of grubs were born, a handful being clones of past troll friends and allies as many came to celebrate with june -at the time not knowing her identity yet- finding the clone of vriska and casually wanting to adopt her, wanting her to live the human life she wanted before. of course the only way around this was adopting her via the consort kingdom's laws being much looser for trolls.

-also during this time a strange occurance involving another world’s meteor and child had crash landed in the marylonde backyard of their human kingdom two story vacation home, a child of both their genetics but more human dominant was there. both deciding it safe to adopt him but keeping the troll portions hidden once getting him schooled later on as the school’s there were the education they wanted him to have. having roxy help them with their aliby, using their carapacion ruler power to write up a fake adoption paper for him.

-also also during this time gamzee had made his return as catav’s new moirail and three sweeps sober, of course not everyone had a big ‘hoorah’ party for him, but it gained jane’s attention whose mental health was still going downhill aswell as what she’s heard of her other alt selves in the dream bubbles, and how well his jape’s and pranks were, causing a one sided kismesis.

-a year later-24 yr old- jane had become the new mayoresident of the earth kingdom, making new laws for human, consort and carapacion kingdoms...the trolls kingdom...she said was taking a while. during this time she, jake and dirk had talked over and compromised of letting her and jake be shared parents for an ecto-bio child due to jane’s wanting to be a mother, with shared custody for both parties.

-a year -25 yr period-after that the troll kingdoms rulers were getting impatient as jane had put them aside to continue her work, making up explanations for putting off getting their laws worked out. during this time ecto-bio-lab leader and work partner for skaianet labs jade harley had decided once ready all three pitched in their DNA, using her boss status to use the ecto-bio machinery to create their daughter. unfortunately she wasnt sneaky enough, being confronted by both english and crocker over this earth kingdom rule breaking, in the end forcing the three to keep their daughter’s existance to a minimal and for jade to be fired.

-during this time jane’s one sided kismesis became equal after a visit that involved catav and jake hanging out jane had left some soporifics around the clown, causing him to fall off the wagon hard after that. during the couple months back on his addiction catav was semi-convinced by kar to distance himself from their quadrant as it was draining him physically and mentally -which was semi right, but also was just cause kar was beyond pissed at gamz as no one at the time knew it was jane’s doing...except one-

-once falling the pieces together dirk had interrogated his friend for how she’s been acting the past eight years, things turning more heated then they should’ve as they sparred, ending in a slashed neck and an anxietic crocker unable to revive him out of fear of he and all her friends leaving her sneakily sewing up the slashed portion and sneaking to the furthest portion of his archeological bro’s forest trees with a rope wrapped around his neck.

-after a month a search party was made to find him lead by said cool archeological bro, only to be found a month later decomposed and munched on by outdoor critters. a funeral was set the next day. 

-the day after as caliope slept her alt-iope self had brought her and another universe version of her to her circle for help as her other version’s universe’s english was alive, traveling through space destroying everything in his path. aradia had busily made a small meteor team to help but alt needed a host body to warn the others and to join the meteor team, as the one version was used as a mouthpiece for her world’s gang, tootsie-calie and her wings were used to fly to space to join the others leaving a mourning roxy to fall off the wagon at two lost friends.

-a week later english fell off his first wagon, ushering jane to have full custody of their ecto-son, giving up his reign of the consort kingdom to june who stepped down as human kingdom’s ruler to take the consort kingdom job very seriously. after roxy had also dropped her crown to live with jane who offered to help her, despite how unfortunately unable she’d be at it keeping soporifics for gamzee. leaving the carapacion kingdom with the marylonde’s working overtime to keep it in check.

-ten years later the troll kingdom’s rulers have finally become impatient, interrogating crocker to confirm to them and herself her castest views on the highbloods, linking them as the reason she gave the troll kingdom no progress growth wise. this caused them to declare rebellion against her. despite the carapacios leaders being on their side, their kingdom’s people were anything but on their side due to past conflicts in the 5-000+ yr gap, leading the two to leave the kingdom to find new rulers to help the rebellion, while the consort kingdom left itself to be neutral in the situation for now.

-a day before harisn’s thirteenth birthday his mothers left the carapacion kingdom, moving to the human kingdom so he could still attend it’s school, despite the glares kan still gets.

-a week after tifney’s twelfth birthday, the vantas home was bombed as a warning to stop the rebellion, leaving only the third story burnt and their side to declare war.

-afterwards a now life ring wearing meenah and the leftover of the dancestors had fallen out of a mysterious black time portal hole, recruited to join the rebellion, making meenah the leader of the ghost train, the ghostly crew used to spy in the crockercorps’s buildings and make secret attacks on them, living in the marylonde’s basement of their new house. catav and aquisprites were recruited, given robotic bodies to help as the co-leaders if the ghost train and tech departments respectively.

-on vrasey’s thirteenth birthday at the troll kingdom’s sign-high an attack was made, causing many trolls above jade color attacked by locker bombs, swords and the declaration from the human kingdom’s ruler that any blood above jade was their target, causing many of the lowerbloods to rally against them into hiding and vrasey to be schooled in the consort kingdom. the sea of the troll’s beach bombed with a poison taking out most of its seadweller neighbors and fish.

-after this a highblooded rebellion was created underground, ran by teals as the rulers of it to achieve the goal of winning this war, taking out both sides who betrayed them. the elderly leader of the coming rebellion took in another teal, training her during this time and inserting her some bias he had at the time of the higherbloods’s status’s. 

-a month after travos’s sixteenth birthday he had involved himself in another kismesis scuffle as gamjane’s relationship was becoming more and more unhealthy, anger filled, only to end with a gash from a club to his head and after waking up covered in his dead blood. freaking out he drove off in his newly given airportable car as jane ushered a drunk roxy to make the corpse disappear, which she did, and having it reappear in harisn’s sylladex at school.

the kids:

harisn maryam lalonde -16-: harisn is a musical lover, extending to an orchestratal lover along with his mothers as he picked up the interest of persuing the cello in his music class. he lives an easy breezy life as his moms limited him to stay out of the rebellion when it started and he at the time was thirteen. he has a sweet tooth and interests in sewing for school musical attires and occasionally being a step in actor for certain events, making sure his outfits warn on the other actors though are outstanding enough to be remembered.

vrasey serket harlenglker eggbert -16-: vrasey never had alot of friends, even before moving to the consort’s firedile high and going to troll kingdom’s sign-high she was much too ambitious with hard pranks and thrill for action for many. she’s a fan of action movies with a hint of comedy and romance, sparring with her mom and recently recovering uncle who lives with them now, and having a bit of a fashionista side of re-creating her hand-me-downs. is mostly kind to her relatives but will snip in some cases.

travos english crocker -15-16-: growing up in a soporific filled household with no father figure thats present enough and an unhealthy kismesis couple travos had grown to be soft, quiet and anxietic at the smallest of actions and tones, closing himself in his room being homeschooled for most of his life. he’s perceptive of others emotions surprisingly able to know mostly how someone feels. he’s also known for having alot of knowledge on carapacions history, traditions and a dozen of their words in their language, but shut in enough to only ever tell this to his summer school going semi-relative harisn, until his mothers left the royalty and ultimately the kingdom but both stay in touch.

tifney vantas strider harley -15-: the star soccer player of troll kingdom’s sign-high tifney is protective and not approachable, not due to how mean she is she’s nice, but mostly due to how intimidating she looks. ever since the beginning of the war she has since tried to know all she could secretly from her parents despite their best efforts not to get her involved. she gained kar’s love of romance’s but also soap opera’s and napoleon ice cream.

claret pyrope -16-17-: the recent ruler of the underground highblood rebellion ‘high-revive’. born and raised in dolorosa’s cavern for orphaned wigglers she lived an introverted life as her rebellious, childish and slightly aggressive way of playing pretend led to many not staying for long. being in the system however she was still authorized to go to school, until the attack happened, causing her to end up with a horn and eye slashed, taken in by the newly formed high-revive’s leader, to become its newer leader. she takes her job overly seriously, giving more benefit to trolls then humans. she’s stubborn and believes the law and method she’s making to be the only way to gain a winning in the rebellion. she looks up to past teals in the history specifically the pyropes and redglare, basing all she’s doing off the knowledge of them thanks to schoolfeed.

reeffi peixes -16-: after the waters of her and her moirail’s home were poisoned both escaped thanks to her heightened smell, being found by claret at 15 and taken into the high-revive. reeffi was trained to become the new heiress of the rebellion after learning her blood color’s status in the past, wanting to do so to make things peaceful for everyone even if violence had to happen. she’s protective of her rail and considers herself to be the one to defend everyone from danger. she’s snarky, and has a thing for causing mischief and simple but stylish fashion.

marche ampora -16-: just like his moirail both share the common knowledge of not knowing their ancestors, born and raised with his rail in the seadweller side kingdom, made after the troll kingdom rulers had returned and made a compromise. marche is naive of his highblood status not grasping what it’s worth is. he’s timid, shy, outwardly vunerable and coddled slightly by his rail but also easy to annoy but keeps it quiet. is also very protective of his rail but keeps that also quiet despite his annoyance for being protected so much he’s been deemed not qualified to fight with anything. later on he grows an interest for expensive and rich looking fashion and not wanting too much responsibility that isnt his own things.

[herstorshe]

Isabel I of Castile

Many consider Queen Isabel I of Castile to have been the best queen Europe has ever had. Her accomplishments certainly stand out amongst those of medieval monarchs, as well as her modern thinking. 

Isabel was born on April 22, 1451 to Juan I of Castile and his second wife, Isabel of Portugal, who was half her husband’s age. Juan had 4 other children by his first wife, Maria of Aragon, but only one, his 26-year-old son and heir Enrique was still alive when Isabel was born. Her parents had one other child together, Alfonso, who was two years younger than Isabel.

When she was 3, Isabel’s father died, making her older half-brother, Enrique, the king of Castile. 

Anxious about his half siblings or stepmother trying to claim power, the new king sent them to a broken-down castle, near destitute, with not enough to eat. Despite this, their mother was determined to educate her children well, especially in religious piety.

When Isabel was 11, the king recalled her, her mother, and her brother back to court, as his wife had just given birth to an heir, Juana, cementing his reign.

They lived in court, with much better living conditions, food to eat, and clothes to wear. Their education continued and, in addition to literature, history, mathematics, and religion, they were introduced to art and music. The only problem was that they were forbade from leaving their brother’s castle.

Despite Enrique’s great efforts to keep his half siblings out of politics, they were completely aware of the fact that his subjects, noble and commoner, were very dissatisfied with their king, and Enrique became known as “The Impotent”. Many began supporting Isabel’s 10-year-old brother, Alfonso, as Enrique’s heir over his daughter, Juana, who many thought to have been sired by the Queen’s royal favorite. Many speculate that Queen Joan, at least once, tried to poison young Alfonso to keep him from taking her daughter’s throne. Either way, any murder attempts against Alfonso failed. 

Nobles eventually forced Enrique to name Alfonso the Prince of Asturias, the traditional title of the heir. He agreed, but only if Alfonso married his daughter. It was agreed, but the king went back on his word, so the furious nobles crowned Alfonso as a rival king and declared war on Enrique.

Unfortunately, five years into the war, Alfonso died at the age of 15. His will named his sister, Isabel, as his heir. Thus she became the rival monarch to the weak King Enrique. But Isabel was wise, and she did not want war. She decided to meet with Enrique to make a diplomatic decision regarding who his heir would be. They compromised, agreeing that Isabel would end the rebellion in exchange for being named Enrique’s heir, as long has he could have a say in who she married. 

Now, Isabel was well known for her intelligence, modesty, religious piety as well as her beauty. Many men, royal or noble, would have been happy to marry such an amazing woman, as is shown by how many men Enrique considered marrying her to. She had been betrothed since the age of 6 to Ferdinand of Aragon, the younger and favored son of King Juan II of Aragon, but Enrique wanted a marriage alliance between his sister and the older son, Carlos, with whom he agreed to ally with against his father, King Juan. But once Juan found out about this plot, he was furious, and sent Carlos to prison where he died shortly after, leaving Ferdinand as his heir. Enrique, wanting a stronger alliance with Portugal, then tried to marry Isabel to King Alfonso V of Portugal, but since Alfonso supported his niece, Juana’s claim to the throne over Isabel’s, she refused. Enrique tried thrice more to marry Isabel off, but all three attempts failed. 

Eventually, Isabel decided to take the matter of her marriage into her own hands, and planned marriage with her second cousin and first betrothed, Ferdinand of Aragon. 

She lied to Enrique, telling him she was going to her brother Alfonso’s tomb, but she was actually going to marry Ferdinand, who had secretly crossed the border. Once they were wed, they agreed that they would rule jointly and equally over Castile, and Aragon once Ferdinand took the throne. They were a great match, both intelligent, both handsome, and both great politicians. They were poised for greatness.

In 1474, King Enrique died at the age of 49, and Isabel became Queen of Castile. Upon receiving the news of her ascension, the queen took refuge and called on the support of her loyal vassals, as she knew neighboring rulers would see a queen as weak, and attack. She was proved right when King Alfonso V of Portugal invaded, married his own niece, Juana, and made a claim for the throne through her. The war raged for a year, until Ferdinand made the sly move to pronounce that him and Isabel had won. This made Alfonso’s supporters, who had not witnessed the battle, withdraw their support of him, forcing Alfonso to return home in defeat.

One of my favorite moments of Isabel’s reign was when she, during a rebellion in Segovia, went against all of her advisor’s judgement and rode out to end it herself. Her daughter, Katharine of Aragon, did the same, but with a much bigger invasion from Scotland.

In 1478 she gave birth to her second child, a son, Juan, which legitimized her reign in the eyes of the people.

In 1479, four years after Isabel came to the throne, Ferdinand inherited the throne of Aragon, when his father, Juan II, died. They came to be known as the Catholic Monarchs, keeping each kingdom politically separate, but ruling over them equally and jointly, as in their marriage contract.

Once she had cemented her reign, she began working to fix all of the problems Enrique had caused in Castile. Firstly, she had to solve the crime problems in Castile. Enrique had utterly failed to enforce law, so murder, robbery, and rape were extremely commonplace. Isabel went about solving this by forming a police force called the Holy Brotherhood to bring peace to the land. It was very effective in this, often using violence against violence. Thus, Isabel earned herself a reputation as a lover of justice over mercy.

Secondly, she had to fill the royal treasury, which Enrique had left bare. She decided to retry one of Enrique’s attempts at raising money, in which he sold off royal land to wealthy noblemen. However, he sold them for much lower than their true value. So, Isabel decided to give the landholders two options: 

1. They must pay the difference of the land’s true value

2. She would buy back the valuable land at the low-low price originally paid

Most picked option 1, and so the treasury filled fast. Isabel did insist that any land granted by her brother to the Church, hospitals, or poor be left alone.

Another large accomplishment of Isabel’s was that she reorganized the government to favor those with intelligence, not wealth or nobility, as well as allow the commoners more power. She did this in two ways.

The first is that she put men with administrative skill and legal training into important positions in place of the lackadaisical nobles. This also simply improved how well the government was run. The second is that she and Ferdinand heard complaints and petitions directly from the people every single Friday. This gave the people more power, and also undercut the power of the corrupt nobility which so fraught her half-brother’s reign.

One of her most problematic accomplishments, though majorly her husband’s going, was the Spanish Inquisition, which forced Jews in Castile to either leave or convert to Catholicism. Isabel and Ferdinand did this mostly because of an agreement they made with the Roman Catholic Church that if the couple made Catholicism the national religion, they could appoint all church officials. And so, half of the roughly eight thousand Jews living in Castile fled, while half converted to Catholicism, though they remained under persecution, constantly under careful watch. Though Isabel was against taking harsh measures against the Jews, the more strict Ferdinand hired a inquisitor general to further persecute those who remained in Castile, making sure there were no practicing Jews in Castile. This resulted in hundreds of thousands of innocent people being tortured, and thousands of people being executed. This disgusting persecution lasted for 3 whole centuries. 

One of Isabel and Ferdinand’s dreams was to finish their ancestor’s work at conquering the Muslim lands in Spain. They got to work on Granada, the last remaining Muslim stronghold, in 1482, recruiting soldiers from all over Europe, and getting the best artillery and latest canons. They began a systematic assault on Granada from the West, where mountains gave way to a few valleys that would accommodate an army. It took 10 years, but by 1492 they had conquered all of Granada, and were given the keys to the city on January 2 of that year. They signed the Treaty of Granada, which ruled that the Catholic Monarchs could rule as long as they allowed Muslims to live in peace.

The second big thing to happen in 1492 was when Isabel and Ferdinand decided to sponsor Christopher Columbus on his search for a route to the East Indies by traveling west, which they did in hopes of profiting off of the spice trade.

However, when Columbus returned a year later, he had not found a route to the East Indies, but instead a whole continent that had never been touched by European life before. He returned with gold and enslaved Native Americans. Isabel was against enslavement and wanted to enforce laws the new world that would forbid slavery. But Ferdinand ignored her wishes, and he and King Juan II of Portugal divided up the Earth outside of Europe for themselves, thus starting the era of New World colonization and the enslavement and death of millions.

Isabella and Ferdinand had five surviving children: Isabel, the eldest, was married to King Manuel of Portugal, and had one son, Miguel. She died shortly after his birth. The second eldest was Maria, who married King Manuel after her sister’s death. She had ten children, and died of exhaustion at 34. The third eldest, the one and only son as well as heir, Juan, was married to Margaret of Austria but died shortly after the wedding, at 19. It is said that his mother was never the same after his death. The second youngest child, Juana, became the heir apparent to the throne of Castile and Aragon. However, she became known as Juana The Mad, and is believed to have suffered serious mental health problems. But recently historians have began speculating that there were much darker forces at work, but I won’t get into that in this article (I linked a resource about it in the Resources page of my blog). And finally, the youngest child, Katharine of Aragon, whose name you most likely recognize. She was married to Prince Arthur, heir to the throne of England, but he died a year after their wedding. She was kept in England for 7 years, with an uncertain future, but eventually married Arthur’s older brother, King Henry VIII. She was infamously divorced by Henry, however, much later, when he fell in love with Anne Boleyn.

All of these family tragedies eventually took their toll on Isabel. She died in 1504 at the age of 53.

Remember this queen for her accomplishments, good and problematic. Then, it was very uncommon for a woman to rule, and also uncommon for a king and queen to rule equally and jointly. She was very pious, determined, faithful, and intelligent. When considering any set of historical figures, however, we mustn’t compare them. It is especially important to remember this with the women, as women are much more often compared, even now in the era of social media. We need to recognize that all women are strong, beautiful, and powerful.

- References linked in resources page -

[reach4themoon]

Water Gun Fight

Word Count: 1142

       You smiled as you picked up your phone, Minhyuk was calling you. 

“Honey, what are you doing?” You couldn’t stop the smile pulling your lips, knowing exactly how this conversation was going to end.

“I am studying, I told you that 10 minutes ago when you called.” He hummed at your reply, not satisfied with the answer.

“I miss you, come over!” You could hear his playful pout, begging you for the third time today to visit the dorms.

You really needed to study with midterms coming up soon, but a break wouldn’t hurt anybody, right?

“Fine, but your buying me lunch.” You heard shuffling on the other side and whispers to who you assumed were his roommates. After exchanging a quick “I love you” and saying goodbye he rushed to end the call.

You grabbed your keys and a hoodie on your way out, deciding to walk since it was only a few minutes away. When you climbed your way up to the dorms, you could hear music from their place. Smiling, you shook your head as you used the spare key he gave you to enter.

The music was loud, but you were surprised to find no one in sight. Curiously you looked around, calling out your boyfriends name and searching for the speakers to lower the volume.

Following the sound of the music, you made your way into Minhyuk’s room and silently cheered as you spotted the speakers. Maneurvering around his bed, you were about to reach his desk when he appeared from behind his bedroom door, shouting as he shot water at you from across the room.

The cold water managed to hit the side of your face before you were able to duck behind his bed. “Minhyuk!” You called out in a mixture of annoyance and giggles. 

Ignoring your call, he quickly ran out of the room, laughing the entire way down the hall and into the living room. Looking around the room, you finally noticed the spare water gun in front of the speakers. You lowered the volume so you wouldn’t get in trouble with the neighbors and grabbed the weapon, quickly moving into the hall.

This time you made sure not to pass by any doors without checking behind them, curious as to where his members were hiding. You were about to check the bathroom when you heard whispering and giggles from behind the couch in the living room.

Smiling to yourself, you quickly ran and jumped on the couch thinking you could scare them only to be met with two waterguns and the rest of the members leaving their hiding spots to shoot at you as well.

Screeching at the cold feeling, you quickly ran into the kitchen and hid behind the counter. This was the official declaration of war, after the ambush on you, everyone agreed that it was every person for themselves.

None of the rooms in the dorms were safe, the only thing off limits was hiding with electronics. 

Currently you were hiding underneath a bed, hearing the running footsteps and screams from the other members all throughout the place. Since you were the one ambushed, you were one of the few to be soaked leaving you with the only option of hiding until you dried or could avenge yourself.

Minhyuk had disappeared and you were trying to wait, hoping he would walk past his bedroom door or scream when encountering someone. However, you had waited for several minutes and started to feel impatient, thinking of how you could search the house without getting caught by the other members.

During your zoned out state, you didn’t notice the quiet footsteps approaching the bed or the way the covers slowly lifted to get a better view. “Gotcha!” Jooheon jumped down, both scaring you and further soaking your clothes.

You flailed, hitting your back against the bed and poorly shooting back as you tried to crawl out from the spot.

Jooheon paused, wincing at the thud from your back slamming against the bed. He was about to ask if you were okay when Minhyuk jumped out from the closet and shot Jooheon in the face.

The poor boy screamed and swiped idly before realizing it was water and he could only run away. You couldn’t help but laugh and just as you were about to shoot him, he pulled you in the closet and closed the door behind you both.

You could hear his roommates still running around the apartment and both of you couldn’t help but giggle. He was about to say something when you heard someone run into the room and you both froze, aiming your guns at the door.

You two could barely contain your laughter, quietly smacking each other as you listened to the roommate search the room. Eventually they left and you both returned to the fit of giggles from before.

“Aren’t you supposed to be thanking me? Your lovely boyfriend saved you from a villain.” Even in the dark closet, his eyes shined bright as a playful smile adorned his face.

“My hero” You playfully rolled your eyes at his comment. He pouted and pulled you close to him, ignoring your complaints about being wet. “At least this way you’ll stay warm~”

You smacked his chest, both of you laughing. 

After a few minutes you both calmed down and just stared at each other. The privacy of the closet making realize how strange it would be for a member to find you two. Minhyuk didn’t seem to mind the idea though as he kissed your forehead affectionately.

He moved to your nose next, taking his time as his way of showing how much he loved you. When he finally reached your lips, you couldn’t help but smile at how softly he pressed himself into you.

Both of you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t notice the silence throughout the house, the smallest sounds of shuffling to the door, and the way Kihyun counted down before throwing the door open. 

At first all of them were screaming to scare you during the attack, but then everyone was yelling about the scene you found yourselves in.

“WHY ARE THEY PLAYING SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN WHILE WE’RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A WATER GUN WAR?!?!” Kihyun shrieked and all of you stared at each other.

You could feel your face burning despite the fact that you two weren’t doing anything inappropriate. Minhyuk quietly whispered in your ear to aim at Kihyun and for whatever reason the others caught on.

All at once all of you shot at Kihyun, taking this as an opportunity for everyone to run out of the room once again. This time however, Minhyuk made sure to shoot you in the back of the head on his way out, laughing as he ran away.

________________________________________________________________

another fic for someone I admire! This one took me a while because although I love Minhyuk (he’s also my bias), I wasn’t sure how to write for him regng 

I was going to write for JR but I don’t know nearly enough about him to try that, sorry

This one if for the lovely @daybreakx​! She writes a lot of stuff and all of which I adore (She’s working on this Children of the Gods fic, it’s a demigod au with different idols and I love it, it’s amazing and unique)! I hope that you enjoy this and have a lovely day! 💜💜💜

[canaryrecords]

Eleven songs that Mary Steele recorded between October 1919 and ca. May 1921 were released on discs. This collection includes seven of those along with two sides by her sometimes accompanists, the Antoniou Brothers. She was one of only only four women to have recorded in the Turkish language (the only one who wasn’t Greek, it turns out), the second woman to have recorded in Arabic, and the only Woman and in Albanian in the U.S during the 1910s and 20s. Phrases in both Armenian and Kurdish turn up in her recordings. Because of her broad linguistic capabilities and her Anglicized name, she baffled me for years - who was she? where was she from? - and I would not have known anything substantial about her had I not been contacted by her great-grandnephew Rob Steel. He has done a lot of research on her, providing a basis from which I could do some more investigation. What follows is an amalgamation of what we have learned. Mary Steele was born in Mersin, Turkey February 21, 1887, the sixth of eight children. Steele’s father was Hanna Luke Boulad, born July 15, 1856 in Aintab (now Gaziantep) in southern Turkey who came from a Melkite Catholic family. While attending a Presbyterian missionary college in Mersin he met Mary’s mother Freda, a fellow student, who had been born in Aleppo, Syria August 31, 1860. They were married and had their first child Phoebe in 1875 in Gaziantep. Over the next 25 years, Hanna took various teaching jobs back and forth from one city to the next, spending a few years in Mersin, a few in Gaziantep, then Tarsus, then back to Gaziantep, then Mersin, back to Gazientep, back to Mersin, then finally, by 1900, to Beirut by which time they had eight children, all boys except Phoebe, the oldest, and Mary, who was then 13. At the urging of a missionary neighbor in Beirut, an American Consul named Dr. Metheny, they sent their two eldest sons, Saul and Alex, to the U.S. In 1901, they sent two more sons William and John. By 1902, Freda Boulad was disconsolate at the breakup of her family, so, with sponsorship from the Presbyterian church, Hanna sold his possessions and packed up the family of including his wife, two small boys,15-year-old Mary, her older sister Phoebe, and Phoebe’s husband and two children, and they sailed from Beirut to Marseille to Philadelphia, arriving August 13, 1902. The family settled in south Philadelphia. By 1910 56 year old Hanna had left behind the life of a scholar and was working as an upholsterer, living on Glenmore Ave. with his wife, a 27 year old son Joseph (also in upholstering), his wife Christine and their two children, and an 11 year old son Benjamin (working in a soap factory). The family name Boulad (meaning, roughly, “strong” in Arabic) had been changed at the port to Steele, and Hanna was called John. His gifts for language were utilized periodically, including, according to family lore, consultation with Egyptologist Dr. Howard Carter (best known at the discoverer of Tutankhamen’s grave), but he resigned himself, unhappily it seems, to American life. While most of the family stayed settled in the working-class south Philly suburbs of Glenolden and Collingdale for decades, Mary Steele traveled. Family documents refer to her having been married at 14, but the first marriage we’re fairly sure of is to one William Gladstone Richardson in January 1912 in either Iowa City or Chicago, depending on which document can believed. Richardson was Mary’s age, 25 at the time, and a native of Farina IL. They apparently had a child and were still married and living together in St. Louis, Missouri in 1920. Richardson he died in 1958, now buried in Ronan, Montana. Steele seems to have spent the better part of 30 years living the life of a performer on the road. She turned up in in New York City at the age of 32 for six recording sessions for the Victor company from October 2 through December 24, 1919. Accompanied by a portly pair of cymbalom- and clarinet-playing Greek brothers from Samos (an island that remained a semi-independent Ottoman territory until it was repatriated to Greece in 1913 during the First Balkan War), she initially recorded four songs in Arabic. The first disc was given a write-up blurb in Victor’s Arabic catalog of the time: “The first selection ‘My Rose’ tells of a youth’s ardent admiration for his sweetheart whose beauty he compares to the rose. In the song on the reverse of the record, ‘Father I Want to Get Married,” a girl confesses to her father her love for a blind man and she tells him that even his misfortune will not detain her from marrying him. The composer, Mme S. Mary, a new Victor artist, sings these Syrian melodies to the accompaniment of cymbal and clarinet.” A few days later, the Antoniou Brothers made four instrumental sides which were released as part of Victor’s Greek series, two of which include Steele playing percussion (and on one of which she can be heard shouting encouragement to the players in the background). The trio returned to the studio every couple weeks over the next two months, cutting four songs in Greek and Albanian over and over again. Victor’s recordists must have thought they had something special in Steele as a performer to let her cut the song “Cuchawaki (The Gamblers)” a total of fifteen times, “Ismenyes” twelve times, and “Ardhi Koha A Bekuar” eleven times during a period when most immigrant musicians got only one or two takes to complete a performance for release. Only the latter of those three songs, translated from Albanian as “Hurrah for the Nation” was ever issued with “Flamuri (The Flag)” (completed in three takes) as its flip, likely as an attempt to salvage something salable from the sessions. The disc sold poorly, which is unsurprising given that the Albanian-speaking population of the U.S. numbered only a few thousand at the time. (Notably, Victor only ever issued four other discs in Albanian, all recorded in 1917-18 by Giuseppe Mauro with accompaniment by the house orchestra before trying one last time in 1924 when they issued five songs by Adreas Pappas-Athanas Mone.) Around March of 1921, she recorded again, this time with a new band for Columbia at their Woolworth Building studios. In two sessions, she knocked out five songs in a combination of Turkish and Arabic in one or two takes. One of the songs was issued as the flip side of a song by Marika Papagika (one of the rare instances of Papagika singing in Turkish). After her session in May 1921, she never recorded again. The 1930 census found Steele living with a Greek man named Stelianos Grigorlides at the New Jackson Hotel in Chicago’s Greektown, giving her occupation as “dancer” and her language spoken other than English as “Armenian.” May 1931, she married an Athenian named George Zamanos in New York City, but it didn’t last. By 1935, at the age of 48, she heeded the family call and moved to Jacksonville, Florida to take care of her then-widowed mother Freda. Her brother John (b. 1886) died that year; Alex (b. 1882) had died in 1915. While she was there, she filed her Declaration of Intent to naturalize as a U.S. citizen, having lived as an alien in this country for 35 years. She gave her race and nationality as “Armenian.” We can only speculate that as a Christian from Turkey, having lived among Greeks and Armenians in nightclubs, theaters, and coffeehouses for decades, her identification with those groups was stronger, or potentially easier for mainstream America to comprehend, than with her Arab family. Or perhaps her mother was Armenian? By 1940, Mary Steele had resettled closer to her remaining family in south Philadelphia at 2535 67th St. living with an Armenian rug cleaner named Harry Hachrian, who was listed as a lodger in a house she owned. She gave her marital status as “widow,” but in March 1944 she filed a summons for divorce against George Zamanos in Nevada, apparently the last place she knew that he’d lived. She apparently died in 1948, about age 60. Her younger brother Joseph, born Sept. 6, 1895 in Gaziantep, also wound up working in show-biz as Ingrid Bergman’s business manager. In 1959, he published a memoir titled Ingrid Bergman: An Intimate Portrait. He died in 1980.

[sciencespies]

When Catherine of Aragon Led England's Armies to Victory Over Scotland

https://sciencespies.com/history/when-catherine-of-aragon-led-englands-armies-to-victory-over-scotland/

When Catherine of Aragon Led England's Armies to Victory Over Scotland

She was, in the words of historian John Edwards, Henry VIII’s “greatest queen.” But though Catherine of Aragon’s marriage to the Tudor king lasted 24 years—collectively, his five other marriages spanned just 14 years—she has long been overshadowed by her successors.

The daughter of Spanish monarchs Ferdinand and Isabella, Catherine came to England as the bride of Henry’s older brother, Arthur, Prince of Wales. But Arthur died shortly after the pair’s wedding, leaving his 16-year-old widow in a precarious position. Though Spain and England initially sought to maintain their alliance by marrying Catherine to another member of the Tudor family (both Henry and his father, Henry VII, were suggested as potential suitors), negotiations soured as diplomatic relations shifted. Ultimately, Catherine spent seven years mired in uncertainty over her future.

The princess’ fortunes shifted when Henry VII died in 1509, leaving the throne to his sole surviving son, who promptly married his alluring young sister-in-law. The couple’s loving relationship, however, eventually deteriorated due to a lack of a male heir and the king’s infatuation with Anne Boleyn.

Catherine is often portrayed as a dowdy, overly pious, stubborn old woman who refused to yield her position for the good of the kingdom. The truth, however, is more nuanced—a fact increasingly reflected in cultural depictions of the queen, including Starz’s “The Spanish Princess” and West End hit Six: The Musical, which features a fictionalized version of Catherine chiding her husband for forgetting that “I’ve never lost control / No matter how many times I knew you lied.”

Far from being the troublesome, unappealing wife of popular imagination, Catherine was actually a charismatic, intelligent and much-loved queen. Three years into the royal couple’s marriage, Henry was still so besotted with his consort that he invited a Spanish visitor to look at her “just to see how bella and beautiful she was.”

In 1513, the queen, then 27 years old, was entrusted with command of the kingdom while her 22-year-old husband waged war against France’s Francis I. Henry left behind a small group of advisors, but as newly discovered documents demonstrate, Catherine didn’t simply defer to these elderly men’s counsel. Instead, she assumed an active role in the governing—and protection—of England.

“When she is left as regent, she is in her element,” says Julia Fox, author of Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. “… She has the power to summon troops, to appoint sheriffs, to sign warrants and to get money from the treasurer of the chamber.”

As Henry and his troops besieged the French town of Thérouanne, Catherine and her council readied for a clash closer to home. Just over a month into the queen’s regency, France’s ally, Scotland’s James IV, had declared war on England, bringing a period of peace between the neighboring nations to an end.

The fact that James was married to Henry’s older sister, Margaret, did little to dissuade either him or Catherine from entering the fray. According to 17th-century chronicler William Drummond, the pregnant Scottish queen pleaded with her husband to desist, noting that he was poised to fight “a mighty people, now turned insolent by their riches at home and power abroad.” But James, buoyed by the possibility of conquest (and of dealing a blow to his egotistical brother-in-law), refused.

Catherine, for her part, appeared to “relish the opportunity” to exercise her full authority, says Giles Tremlett, author of Catherine of Aragon: Henry’s Spanish Queen. In an August 13 letter, the queen wrote, “My heart is very good to it.” Wryly referencing women’s traditional role in warfare, the queen added, “I am horribly busy with making standards, banners and badges.”

Michael Sittow portrait of Catherine, c. 1502 (left), and portrait of Henry VIII around the time of his first wedding

(Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

Though Catherine did, in fact, order the royal wardrobe to furnish two banners bearing the arms of England and Spain, as well as “standards of the lion crowned imperial,” such tasks made up just a small portion of her preparations. Working with councilors, she mobilized forces across England, communicating with local authorities to determine how many men and horses their parishes could provide. When the mayor and sheriffs of Gloucester failed to respond in a timely fashion, she gave them a deadline of 15 days and emphasized that “writing and news from the Borders show that the King of Scots means war.”

In addition to recruiting soldiers, the queen dispatched money (£10,000, to be exact), artillery, gunners, a fleet of eight ships and supplies ranging from grain to pipes of beer and armor. She had Thomas Howard, Earl of Surrey—a combat-hardened, 70-year-old veteran of the 1485 Battle of Bosworth—and his army of around 26,000 mount a first line of defense near the border with Scotland and asked Sir Thomas Lovell to lead a secondary force in England’s Midlands.

What Catherine did next was unprecedented, particularly for a kingdom where warfare was considered an exclusively male domain. As records recently found at the United Kingdom’s National Archives testify, this daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella—two famously bellicose rulers who’d spent Catherine’s childhood driving the Muslim Moors out of the Iberian Peninsula—left the safety of London and headed north toward the English-Scottish border with 1,500 sets of armor, as well as a golden “headpiece with crown” that Tremlett likens to “an armored sun hat,” in tow.

“The new details involve the queen more deeply as a director of events rather than a passive figurehead managed by those of Henry’s counselors left in England,” Sean Cunningham, the archivist who discovered the papers, told the Times’ Mark Bridges in May. “… [They] let us know that Catherine was heading for Warwick [Castle] and the Tower [of London] had pretty much been emptied of armor.”

Catherine and her troops were ready to face the Scots if James IV managed to defeat both Surrey’s and Lovell’s forces. One contemporary, Peter Martyr, reported that the queen, “in imitation of her mother Isabella,” regaled her reserve army with a speech compelling them to “defend their territory” and “remember that English courage excelled that of all other nations.”

This incident is widely referenced—including in an upcoming episode of “The Spanish Princess,” which will feature a highly exaggerated version of Catherine, clad in armor fashioned to accommodate her visible pregnancy, riding directly into battle—but many historians now consider Martyr’s account apocryphal. (Ambassadors’ correspondence indicates that the queen delivered a premature son who died shortly after birth in October 1513, but the pregnancy’s veracity remains a point of contention; in Sister Queens, Fox argues, “[I]it seems unlikely that she would have risked a much-wanted child by accompanying the army from London.”)

Tremlett deems the speech “almost certainly invented” but points out that this “doesn’t mean it [didn’t] reflect the spirit of the moment.” Fox, meanwhile, says Catherine probably made “a speech, … but whether it was quite as rousing or as wonderful, I don’t know.”

Memorial to the dead at the site of the Battle of Flodden

(The Land via Wikimedia Commons under CC BY-SA 4.0)

As it turned out, neither Lovell nor the queen ended up seeing action. On September 9, Surrey’s troops and James’ army of more than 30,000 engaged in battle. The English wielded the bill, a simple hooked weapon derived from an agricultural tool, while the Scots opted for the longer, steel-tipped pike. An afternoon of “great slaughter, sweating and travail” ensued, and by its end, some 10,000 Scots—including 12 earls, 14 lords, an archbishop, a bishop, 2 abbots and James himself—lay dead. Comparatively, the smaller English army only lost around 1,500 men.

The Scottish king’s brutal fate was, in a way, evocative of the broader blow inflicted on his country in the wake of the defeat: As historian Leanda de Lisle explains, “James’ left hand was almost severed, his throat gashed, and an arrow was shot through his lower jaw.” (Additional ignominies, including one at Catherine’s own hand, awaited the king’s corpse.) With the Stuart monarch’s passing, his infant son, James V, became the leader of a grieving, much-reduced nation.

According to Fox, the Battle of Flodden (which draws its name from nearby Flodden Edge) left Scotland “in a powerless situation.” She adds, “Not only have you just defeated them in a spectacular way, but [the kingdom is] in disarray. Scotland is practically at [England’s] mercy.”

Prior to Cunningham’s find, historians had only known that Catherine was in Buckingham, around 60 miles north of London, when she received word of Surrey’s victory. But the new evidence suggests that the queen intended to travel further north, if not directly into battle like Joan of Arc, then at least into the vicinity of combat.

“Many a queen would have quite simply hotfooted it to the Tower of London, pulled up the drawbridge and sat there fairly safely,” says Fox. “… But she doesn’t do that. She’s no milk sop. She’s not taking refuge. She really is out on the road.”

Three days after the battle, Catherine penned a letter to her husband, who had successfully captured Thérouanne and was now besieging Tournai. She began by emphasizing Flodden’s significance, writing, “[T]o my thinking this battle hath been to your grace, and all your realm, the greatest honour that could be, and more than should you win all the crown of France.” As one might expect of such a deeply religious individual, the queen proceeded to thank God for the victory—and subtly remind Henry to do the same.

Catherine’s missive then took a rather unexpected turn. She’d sent her husband a piece of the Scottish king’s bloodied surcoat (“for your banners”) but lamented that she’d originally hoped to send a much more macabre trophy: the embalmed body of James himself. Unfortunately, the queen reported, she soon realized that “our Englishmen’s hearts would not suffer it.”

This “gleeful and somewhat bloodthirsty” sentiment may seem out of character for a woman renowned for her piety, but as Tremlett points out, “Plenty of pious people were also violent, [and] plenty of people were violently pious.” Few exemplify this seemingly contradictory mindset as well as Catherine’s own parents, who waged a relentless, violent campaign against all non-Christians in their kingdom.

Catherine and Henry later in life

(Public domain via Wikimedia Commons)

Ferdinand and Isabella’s reconquest of Spain culminated in the January 2, 1492, fall of Granada, which marked the end of 780 years of Muslim rule in the Iberian Peninsula. Then an impressionable 6-year-old, Catherine witnessed the Moors’ surrender, as well as her mother’s leading role in the military crusade.

“This [stays] with her,” says Fox. “This idea of a woman involved in battles is there. And when she actually comes to the divorce question, she sees it as a battle. She sees fighting for her own marriage as just as important as fighting for the Catholic faith.”

Though Catherine was careful to praise her husband’s success in France, she and other contemporary observers knew that Henry’s triumphs paled in comparison to Flodden.

As Antonia Fraser writes in The Wives of Henry VIII, “[T]he Scottish threat was removed for a generation by the slaughter of its leaders. … Compared to this, the Battle of the Spurs won over the French, although part of an expensive campaign, was a purely temporary check, forgotten the next year when the King turned his foreign policy on its head.”

Catherine wasn’t the first English queen to assume the reins of power in the absence of a male monarch. Sixty years prior, another foreign-born princess, Margaret of Anjou, took charge of the kingdom amid the Wars of the Roses, fighting for her son’s inheritance and making major decisions on behalf of her disastrously incompetent husband, Henry VI. More recently, Henry VIII’s grandmother Margaret Beaufort—an “uncrowned queen,” in the words of historian Nicola Tallis—had acted as regent in the brief period before the young king came of age. (Years after Catherine’s death, her beloved daughter, Mary I, followed in her mother’s footsteps by rallying troops to her cause and seizing the throne from those who had sought to thwart her.)

Combined with the example set by Isabella and other relatives, says Tremlett, “Catherine had some very strong role models for women who could rule, for women who could fight.”

Whereas Margaret of Anjou’s seizure of power made her deeply unpopular, Catherine’s regency cemented her already sterling reputation. In the mid-1520s, when Henry first raised the question of divorcing his wife, he found that public opinion was firmly on the queen’s side. She viewed the survival of her marriage as inextricable from the survival of the Catholic Church, according to Fox, and refused to back down despite immense pressure.

Catherine’s legacy, adds the historian, “is that of a wronged woman … who did not accept defeat, who fought for what she believed to be right until the breath left her body.”

Henry, for his part, never forgot the tenacity his wife had demonstrated in the days leading up to Flodden. As he later reflected with no small amount of trepidation, she was perfectly capable of carrying “on a war … as fiercely as Queen Isabella, her mother, had done in Spain.

#History

[rockislandadultreads]

Check out these history books from our bottom shelf! All these titles need some love, so check them out today!

Summaries and Ratings from goodreads.com

Conquistador: Hernán Cortés, King Montezuma, and the Last Stand of the Aztecs by Buddy Levy

4.19/5 stars

It was a moment unique in human history, the face-to-face meeting between two men from civilizations a world apart. Only one would survive the encounter. In 1519, Hernán Cortés arrived on the shores of Mexico with a roughshod crew of adventurers and the intent to expand the Spanish empire. Along the way, this brash and roguish conquistador schemed to convert the native inhabitants to Catholicism and carry off a fortune in gold. That he saw nothing paradoxical in his intentions is one of the most remarkable—and tragic—aspects of this unforgettable story of conquest.

In Tenochtitlán, the famed City of Dreams, Cortés met his Aztec counterpart, Montezuma: king, divinity, ruler of fifteen million people, and commander of the most powerful military machine in the Americas. Yet in less than two years, Cortés defeated the entire Aztec nation in one of the most astonishing military campaigns ever waged. Sometimes outnumbered in battle thousands-to-one, Cortés repeatedly beat seemingly impossible odds. Buddy Levy meticulously researches the mix of cunning, courage, brutality, superstition, and finally disease that enabled Cortés and his men to survive.

Conquistador is the story of a lost kingdom—a complex and sophisticated civilization where floating gardens, immense wealth, and reverence for art stood side by side with bloodstained temples and gruesome rites of human sacrifice. It’s the story of Montezuma—proud, spiritual, enigmatic, and doomed to misunderstand the stranger he thought a god. Epic in scope, as entertaining as it is enlightening, Conquistador is history at its most riveting.

The Story of Tibet: Conversations with the Dalai Lama by Thomas Laird

4.18/5 stars

The Story of Tibet is a work of monumental importance, a fascinating journey through the land and history of Tibet, with His Holiness the Fourteenth Dalai Lama as guide. Over the course of three years, journalist Thomas Laird spent more than sixty hours with His Holiness the Dalai Lama in candid, one-on-one interviews that covered His Holiness’s beliefs on history, science, reincarnation, and his lifelong study of Buddhism. Traveling across great distances to offer vivid descriptions of Tibet’s greatest monasteries, Laird brings his meetings with His Holiness to life in a rich and vibrant historical narrative that outlines the essence of thousands of years of civilization, myth, and spirituality. His Holiness introduces us to Tibet’s greatest yogis and meditation masters, and explains how the institution of the Dalai Lama was founded. Embedded throughout this journey is His Holiness’s lessons on the larger roles religion and spirituality have played in Tibet’s story, reflecting the Dalai Lama’s belief that history should be examined not only conventionally but holistically. The Story of Tibet is His Holiness’s personal look at his country’s past as well as a summation of his life’s work as both spiritual and temporal leader of the Tibetan people.

Country of My Skull: Guilt, Sorrow, and the Limits of Forgiveness in the New South Africa by Antjie Krog

4.09/5 stars

Ever since Nelson Mandela dramatically walked out of prison in 1990 after twenty-seven years behind bars, South Africa has been undergoing a radical transformation. In one of the most miraculous events of the century, the oppressive system of apartheid was dismantled. Repressive laws mandating separation of the races were thrown out. The country, which had been carved into a crazy quilt that reserved the most prosperous areas for whites and the most desolate and backward for blacks, was reunited. The dreaded and dangerous security force, which for years had systematically tortured, spied upon, and harassed people of color and their white supporters, was dismantled. But how could this country--one of spectacular beauty and promise--come to terms with its ugly past? How could its people, whom the oppressive white government had pitted against one another, live side by side as friends and neighbors?

To begin the healing process, Nelson Mandela created the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, headed by the renowned cleric Archbishop Desmond Tutu. Established in 1995, the commission faced the awesome task of hearing the testimony of the victims of apartheid as well as the oppressors. Amnesty was granted to those who offered a full confession of any crimes associated with apartheid. Since the commission began its work, it has been the central player in a drama that has riveted the country. In this book, Antjie Krog, a South African journalist and poet who has covered the work of the commission, recounts the drama, the horrors, the wrenching personal stories of the victims and their families. Through the testimonies of victims of abuse and violence, from the appearance of Winnie Mandela to former South African president P. W. Botha's extraordinary courthouse press conference, this award-winning poet leads us on an amazing journey.

Highway to Hell: Dispatches from a Mercenary in Iraq by John Geddes

3.62/5 stars

Present-day Iraq: a crucible of torture, chemical warfare and Islamic terrorism, and straddling over it all the mighty US Army and its allies; but there's another western army in Iraq that dwarfs the British contingent and is second only in size to the US Army itself.

It's a disparate and anarchic multi-national force of men gathered from twenty or more countries numbering some 30,000. It's a mercenary army of men and a few women with guns for hire earning an average of $1,000 dollars a day. They are in Iraq to provide security for the businessmen, surveyors, building contractors, oil experts, aid workers and, of course, the TV crews who have flocked to the country to pick over the carcass of Saddam's regime and help the country re-build.

Not since the days when the East India Company used soldiers of fortune to depose fabulously wealthy Maharajas and conquer India for Great Britain, and mercenaries fought George Washington's Continental Army for King George, has such a large and lethal independent fighting force been assembled. Once upon a time such men were called freelances, mercenaries, soldiers of fortune or dogs of war, but today they go under a different name: private military contractors. There's a far more fundamental sea change, too, as women have joined their ranks in significant numbers for the first time, bringing a new and interesting dynamic into the equation.

In Iraq today the majority of their number are men who come from 'real deal' Special Forces units or former soldiers from regular units and regiments; all of them know what they're about and rub shoulders together more or less comfortably with at least a shared understanding of basic military requirements.

One such man is John Geddes, ex-SAS warrant officer and veteran of a fistful of hard wars who became a member of the private army in Iraq for the eighteen months immediately following George W. Bush's declaration of the end of hostilities in early May 2003. Now, for the first time, John Geddes will reveal the inside story of this extraordinary private army and the private war they are still fighting with the insurgents in Iraq.

Please Enjoy Your Happiness by Paul Brinkley-Rogers

3.56/5 stars

Please Enjoy Your Happiness is a beautifully written coming-of-age memoir based on the English author's summer-long love affair with a remarkable older Japanese woman.

Whilst serving as a seaman at the age of nineteen, Brinkley-Rogers met Kaji Yukiko, a sophisticated, highly intellectual Japanese woman, who was on the run from her vicious gangster boyfriend, a member of Japan's brutal crime syndicate the yakuza. Trying to create a perfect experience of purity, she took him under her wing, sharing their love of poetry, cinema and music and many an afternoon at the Mozart Café.

Brinkley-Rogers, now in his seventies, re-reads Yukiko's letters and finally recognizes her as the love of his life, receiving at last the gifts she tried to bestow on him. Reaching across time and continents, Brinkley-Rogers shows us how to reclaim a lost love, inviting us all to celebrate those loves of our lives that never do end.

A Thousand Hills: Rwanda's Rebirth and the Man Who Dreamed It by Stephen Kinzer

4.19/5 stars 

A Thousand Hills: Rwanda's Rebirth and the Man Who Dreamed It is the story of Paul Kagame, a refugee who, after a generation of exile, found his way home. Learn about President Kagame, who strives to make Rwanda the first middle-income country in Africa, in a single generation. In this adventurous tale, learn about Kagame's early fascination with Che Guevara and James Bond, his years as an intelligence agent, his training in Cuba and the United States, the way he built his secret rebel army, his bloody rebellion, and his outsized ambitions for Rwanda.

[daggerzine]

Sohrab Habibion from SAVAK (and Obits, Edsel, etc.) fills in the gaps.

I first noticed the name Sohrab Habibion in the Sub Pop band Obits nearly a decade ago. He’d then gotten in touch with me a few years back when he sent me the last Savak record, Beg Your Pardon (the band’s 3rd). I did some backtracking and realized he was in the old DC post hardcore band Edsel, whose music I enjoyed. We got to talking and I realized this guy’s had a pretty interesting career and I needed to find out more. He was more than agreeable to an interview on the DAGGER site. Oh and dig this....he recently he began posting some videos that he took of shows in the DC area in the mid-80’s, which is discussed below. Let’s all thank our lucky stars that someone was there with a video camera at shows back then.

Back to SAVAK, they have recently released their fourth full-length, Rotting Teeth in the Horses Mouth (on the Ernest Jenning Record Co label, like the last few) and it’s a terrific record. The kind of post-punk that’s not afraid to pOp! and vice versa. So needless to say Sohrab had plenty to talk about. Let’s take a trip both down memory lane and back to the future as well.

Sohrab.... always pushin’ the hair products.

 Did you grow up in the DC area? If not how did you end up there?

I moved to the suburbs of DC in 1979. My mom and I drove through Hurricane David from my grandfather’s house in Leonia, New Jersey to Annandale, Virginia with all of our possessions in the back of a Chevy Chevette. We had just left Iran because of the Revolution and, after a short stay in Bergen County to gather ourselves and do some research, my parents decided that we would resettle in the DC area.

Do you remember what the first record you ever bought was? First concert?

First record: It was a cassette of Love for Sale by Boney M. Actually maybe that was a gift from a friend. Either way I think of it as my first-owned album. I quickly had the lyrics to “Ma Baker” memorized and never gave a second thought to just how weird the cassette cover art was. If you’re not familiar, perhaps imagine an S&M dungeon version of Ohio Players? As a 7-year-old I think it just didn’t register. More interesting is that the producer, Frank Farian, was also the guy behind Milli Vanilli. If you’re up for it, I recommend doing some Googling about Mr. Farian, who was born Franz Reuther just after the start of World War II in a German valley settlement once known as the “Town of Leather.” It’s good stuff, I promise.

First concert: A friend’s older sister drove us to the old 9:30 Club to see one of the club’s 3 Bands for 3 Bucks nights. I remember feeling pretty excited about being in a part of town I didn’t know and seeing all kinds of people I didn’t ordinarily see. This was probably 1983 or 1984 so it was heavy on the New Wave look. In the basement of 9:30, once you’d squeezed down the narrow flight of stairs, there were bathrooms as well as a small counter that sold records and tapes. I bought The Halloween Cassette—a WGNS comp with Gray Matter, United Mutation, Velvet Monkeys, Malefice, Bloody Mannequin Orchestra and others—and the Minor Threat record that compiles the first two 7”s. On our drive home the DJ on WHFS played the song “Minor Threat,” which we literally had in our hands, and the whole thing felt tremendously serendipitous.

During his tryout with the Washington Bullets (Elvin Hayes beat him out). 

At what age did you pick up the guitar?

One night my mom came home from a school fundraising auction with an acoustic guitar that she’d won in the raffle. I actually think it might be the only time anyone in my family has ever won a raffle. I was 13 or 14 and discovering that I was not as good of a baseball player as I’d hoped or wanted to be and the guitar felt more connected to my interests, so I started to teach myself chords and rudimentary scales. It wasn’t long before I was able to get an electric guitar and make a complete mess of sound in neighborhood basements with friends.

How old were you when the punk rock bug bit you?

Thirteen, I think. I’m pretty sure it was 7th grade. I didn’t know a lot about rock music. Having spent a chunk of my early life in Iran, I missed the boat on a lot of big, American rock’n’roll moments. I was 9 when I was first exposed to KISS by neighbors who were also in the Boy Scouts and so I kind of lumped all that costuming together and the whole thing seemed silly. Special badges and membership cards and various allegiances you were supposed to declare. I felt disengaged from a lot of things in the suburban culture around me, so punk made sense upon its arrival. It took some time to sort things out, like what made the Dead Kennedys good and The Exploited bad, but once that initial door opened, I never turned back. If anything it just opened additional doors to other subcultures and underground movements and marginalized artists and thinkers. Punk helped me recognize that my sympathies will always be with the disenfranchised, the unheralded, the amateur, the wandering tinkerer.

How and when did Edsel get together?

I met Nick Pelliocciotto and Geoff Sanoff (who wouldn’t be in Edsel for a few years) at a Government Issue show at the Hung Jury Pub. Nick and I briefly played in a band with Jim Spellman (Velocity Girl, High Back Chairs, Foxhall Stacks), but that fizzled out. So Nick and I were looking for a bass player when we saw Steve Ward play a cover of “White Rabbit” at a high school talent show. Nick and I agreed that Steve looked cool (he really did) and, when we ran into him in the parking lot, he passed our test by answering that his favorite DC band was Happy Go Licky. We started practicing in the basement of the house Nick, Jim Spellman and I lived in off Reno Road in the Cleveland Park neighborhood of DC. We didn’t know what we were doing. Nick played me a bunch of records I had never heard before and we would talk about various details in the music. He made me aware of the way certain things interacted, like the bass guitar and the kick drum. I’d never considered that. I was also unfamiliar with singing in a band, so was starting from scratch. A lot of it began as rhythmic sing-song-speak-howling that could be heard somewhat above the volume of the band. I’ll never forget recording our first demo at Inner Ear with Michael Hampton. When it came time for me to do the vocals we were all surprised by what they sounded like and Michael nicely said, “Why don’t we call it a day and you go home and work on some melodies that we can record tomorrow.” Ha! When Nick and I got back to the house we listened to a bunch of albums to get ideas for vocal melodies. The one that resonated with me was Midnight Oil’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it helped me understand how you could take a simple line and move it around with chord changes. I didn’t figure out what phrasing was for some time to come, but that was the start. Thank you Michael, Nick and Peter Garrett.

How/when did you end up in NYC?

Well, it’s a circuitous story, but . . . Edsel toured a lot between 1993 and 1995. So much so that I moved back into my parents’ basement to avoid paying rent for a place I wasn’t going to be spending any time in. My folks are lovely and it was a fine arrangement, but I missed having an apartment of my own. On tour in Chicago I was presented with the opportunity of a cheap living situation in a city that I liked, so I moved there. I had this fantasy that the band could keep it together while being in 3 different cities—Geoff had moved to NYC and the two Steve’s were in DC. Not a chance. I had a good year in Chicago, working at the Empty Bottle and playing with different local musicians, but Edsel basically succumbed to inertia and I decided to move back to DC to make a solo record. My parents had a cabin in the Shenandoah Valley and I went there for a period of time with my 4-track and the hopes of discovering whatever my version of Leonard Cohen and Brian Eno might be. That didn’t happen, but I learned a lot about recording myself and making mistakes and stumbling on things I liked that I hadn’t intended. Around this point I got a call from Michael Hampton, who’d moved to New York City a few years earlier. He said his neighbor in the West Village had moved out and he wondered if I might want to take the apartment. I was feeling pretty untethered and the idea of giving Manhattan a shot was exciting, so in November 1997 I packed up my books and CDs and headed up here. I’ve since crossed the bridge over to Brooklyn, but have no plans of leaving. I love this city and all of its flaws.

How about Obits? I know Alexis was in Edsel….had you known Rick already?

Alexis played in Edsel for a few reunion shows we did in 2013, but he wasn’t in the original lineup of the group. I first met Alexis in 1985 when Lünch Meat, his band, played with Kids For Cash, my band, at my local community center. He and I also share a birthday and a similar sense of humor, so when he joined Obits after the departure of Scott Gursky, our original drummer, it was an effortless transition. I’d also played with Alexis in Girls Against Boys on a 2002 European tour that Eli couldn’t do. I was Fake Eli and got to play bass on some of my favorite GvsB tunes, which was a blast. Alexis has a humorous diary from that tour: http://www.gvsb.com/euro_diary/index.html

Here’s an excerpt just so you know it’s worth the clicks:

“scott has determined that we should get rid of all the equipment and excess drummers and bass players and just travel with a painted sheet (we in the biz call this a scrim). that way he could have a band painted on it and just cut out the head of the singer and stick his own head through. this would reduce overhead and be a whole lot less of a hassle than having squabbling bass players and drummers with no IQ whatsoever.”

Rick and I met at an art show of his in the summer of ‘99. In fact, in looking to clarify the year I came across this email I sent to a friend:

“Last night my friend Hiroshi took me to an opening of his friend Rick Froberg’s work in some unknown Lower East Side apartment/gallery. I was shocked at how incredible his stuff was. His etchings like Goya’s, his prints like a German expressionist and his paintings like a weird amalgam of Raymond Pettibon and Norman Rockwell. But everything was very original despite its familiarity. He gave me one of his prints and I actually ended up buying one of his paintings. I’m really excited about it.”

Funny thing is that on that European GvsB tour I was wearing a Hot Snakes shirt. Little could I have guessed that I’d be in a band with Alexis and Rick 10 years later. Or maybe I could’ve? Our behavior and patterns are probably more predictable than I’d like to admit.

Anyway, long and short of it is after meeting Rick we started hanging out and as Hot Snakes was winding down in the early aughts he proposed we get together and strum our guitars. We had a good time and kept at it until things started to take shape. Fast forward a bit and our friend Speck browbeat Rick into playing with her band, Orphan, at Cake Shop. That was early 2008 and the internet did us a favor by sharing a bootleg recording of our gig, which led us to signing with Sub Pop. Seems just as weird now as it did then, but so it goes! The band was a hoot to be in and we had a grand time, particularly touring. The trips we made to Europe, Australia, Japan and Brazil were fantastic. I never thought I’d be able to do that playing scrappy rock’n’roll music. All the people that we met, the local specialties that we ate and drank . . . and drank . . . and then ate some more. Unforgettable. Until I forget them. Then I’ll refer to the documentation.

Obits.....always ready to rumble (notice the switchblade comb in Froberg’s pocket). 

Tell me about the end of Obits and the beginning of Savak? Who came up with the name?

The end of Obits was a little unexpected. At least the timing of it. All bands end, so it wasn’t surprising in that regard, but we had a French tour planned and had been offered some East Coast dates with Mudhoney, so it was a bummer not to be able to do those. But it had been a cold and miserable winter and Rick had some family stuff to marshal, so it felt best to call it, which is what we did on April 1st, 2015. The April Fool’s part wasn’t intentional, but I liked that it happened that way, what with being in a band often feeling like a cosmic joke anyway. But we’re all still good friends and very much in touch with each other. Funny thing is we’d actually written a fourth record with two drummers, as Matt Schulz had started playing with us as well (we did one show with both Alexis and Matt, which was fun), so on my hard drive somewhere are the demos and jams for that, including covers of “The In-Crowd” (https://youtu.be/KYbwk26mYJA) and Beasts of Bourbon’s “I Don't Care About Nothing Anymore.” (https://youtu.be/IpWi4OxhJXY)

Towards the end of Obits I’d started getting together with other friends to make noise. I was playing with Greg Simpson and Matt Schulz, doing instrumental versions of Hooterville Trolley and Shadows tunes, and separately with Michael Jaworski and Benjamin Van Dyke, just bashing out riffs. I asked all involved if they would want to combine the two and everyone was into it. The nice thing was Michael and I got to write with two different drummers, which opened up new ideas, and for a band that was just getting the swing of our internal vocabulary, it helped jumpstart the mojo.

I can’t remember at what point we were talking about band names, but when Viet Cong couldn’t take the heat for their name and decided to change it I made a joke about calling our group SAVAK. Then the more I thought about it the more I liked it and the group was on board, so we ran with it. The Iranian side of my family was a bit perplexed and bemused, but they all understood that this was a rock’n’roll outfit and not some creepy tribute to the former secret police in Iran. I’ve come to appreciate how that type of band name is a good litmus test. With a moniker like SAVAK you can see who actually knows anything about global political history, but more importantly you immediately know that anyone who takes issue with it isn’t likely to be interested in or even be familiar with punk rock or underground culture. So that person’s opinion on the subject doesn’t hold weight for me and I’ll attempt to redirect to a different subject that could be entertaining to chat about, like food or wine or bicycle maintenance or John le Carré books or, I dunno, HTML/CSS?

Savak has been recording pretty consistently…how did the new record come together so quickly? Who came up with the title?

Michael Jaworski, the other guitarist, singer and co-songwriter, came up with the title of Rotting Teeth in the Horse’s Mouth. Apparently it appeared to him in a dream and, well, I just liked the way it sounded. Both in that it reminded me of the DK’s classic Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables and as a play on the idiom “hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth,” since the current mouth we hear more often than is good for anyone’s mental health has enough proverbial rotting teeth to fill the mouth of a giant armadillo.

We worked on the album over a period of months. Sometimes we would get together with Matt Schulz, our drummer, and hammer stuff out. Other times either Michael or I would start something at home and build it from there. The main thing was to keep it feeling like a band had cut it together live, regardless of how accurate that may be on any given song. We started with 16 tunes, ditched 2 of them that weren’t as developed, and recorded the remaining 14. Then we picked the 10 that sounded the most cohesive for the album and the others will come out as singles later in the year. We spent many intensely focused hours editing, overdubbing and trying to really hone in on what each tune needed. I like discreet events in music and subtle details that may not make themselves evident for a few listens. A keyboard that only appears in the second verse or a backing vocal that’s buried deep in the right channel of the outro or a flanged cymbal crash at the top of the chorus. Stuff that doesn’t have to happen in the live version but makes the recording a little richer without being overbearing.

SAVAK, just before diving in. 

In Savak, re; the songwriting process, is it both you and Michael together or do you write independently?

There’s always a collaborative element. We each add or edit the other’s songs to some degree. That’s one of the things I really like about our partnership. We actively try to keep our egos out of the way. And while we may not share the exact same taste about every little thing, we trust each other’s sensibility. I think that willingness to let go of our own ideas makes them more interesting and strengthens the working relationship.

Tell us about working with Arto Lindsay?

Rick Froberg was employed as an illustrator at a web-based, digital media shop in SoHo called Funny Garbage and he helped get me a gig making music for cartoons and video games they were producing for companies like Cartoon Network. I had access to a recording studio on a floor above our office which was run by an incredibly talented musician/producer named Andres Levin. One day ‘Dre asked if I could work on a session with a friend of his for a gallery installation. It seemed interesting, so I agreed. The guy showed up with two pillow cases that he wanted to put on his arms and flap wildly in front of a mic. His idea was to pitch the pillow case recording down a few octaves and add a lot of reverb so it would sound like a giant bird was flying. I don’t remember if he was pleased with the results, but we had a blast trying, and it turned out that fella was Arto Lindsay. He got in touch with me soon after about recording his next album. I was direct about the fact that while I was brisk with the ProTools and could run sessions efficiently, I was not a real engineer who knew about microphone placement and how to apply compression, etc. He said that was fine and arranged to rent a recording rig for his apartment and we got straight to work with Melvin Gibbs, who is Arto’s writing partner, co-producer, and bass player. We made Invoke in 2002 and two years later we made Salt, once again doing the whole thing in his Chelsea living room. Arto’s a wonderful guy, as is Melvin, and we had a terrific time together. I also learned a lot. He has such a deep knowledge of avante garde music and art and a whole world of Brazilian culture that he can tap into. And Melvin is an incredible musician, so getting to see how he approached assembling Arto’s ideas was fascinating. He was also forgiving with the fact that a punker like me was trying to edit Brazilian rhythms when I was having an impossible time even identifying the first beat of the groove. There was a lot of, “Please just tell me where the ONE is.” Arto knows a wide array of people and the process of making a record with him was very much about getting it done, but not at the expense of the vibe, so if someone dropped by you’d just have to roll with it. Sometimes that person would bring their instrument and overdub on a song or two, so I had to figure out how to be flexible about the recording process to make sure it was gonna be smooth for all involved, regardless of if it was a violin player or a guy doing a percussion track using a cardboard box. I ended up calling Geoff Sanoff for advice quite a bit—to the point where Arto would joke, “Is it time to call Geoff?” Ha! But he knew the deal going in, so all was fine. The experience of making those records was great and I got to meet some interesting folks. Also my appreciation of Brazilian music completely exploded. An unexpected and super cool project with Arto, Debbie Harry and Mikhail Baryshnikov also came from that. Another side note: when we were recording Invoke there was a song which Arto wanted to get Animal Collective involved in. This was 2001 and they were still more of a record store employee kind of band, but Arto had a couple of their CDs (Spirit They’re Gone Spirit They’ve Vanished and Danse Manatee, I think) and was really into them. We arranged to go into Stratosphere Sound, the studio that was owned by Adam Schlesinger, Andy Chase, and James Iha, where Geoff Sanoff worked, and do the session there. They had an interesting way of working—they would manipulate all of the instruments, including live drums, and have everything run through their PA and then have Geoff mic the PA speakers. So the final thing was this gauzy, mushy, blur that was like a sonic paste. They totally knew what they were doing and I was particularly impressed with Noah/Panda Bear as a musician.

Speaking of legends, how did you begin collaborating with Michael Hampton?

First we should be clear that we’re not discussing “Magic” Mike Hampton AKA Michael “Kidd Funkadelic” Hampton. According to Discogs, the Michael Hampton I know is “Michael Hampton (3)” of Brief Weeds fame. He’s a few years older than me so I missed his days in SOA and The Faith, but I was a fan and saw him in Embrace and One Last Wish. I attended American University in DC and ran into him on campus, told him I also played guitar and suggested that we “jam sometime.” Knowing him now this detail cracks me up because I’m positive I freaked him out and that he was horrified by the idea of “jamming” with an arbitrary, long-haired frosh. Some time after Edsel started we asked Michael to help produce our demo, as we were clueless about the studio. And when he was in Manifesto our bands played together and we got to be better friends. After he moved to New York, it was he and his wife, Monica, who encouraged me to move here. They also introduced me to my wife. And for the last 15 or so years we’ve worked together on soundtracks for indie films, documentaries and commercials. I can’t recall how that collaboration first started, but I love working with Michael. He’s got a quick wit, so there’s lots of yucks involved, but he also has a remarkable knack for music composition and knows how to layer ideas for perfect cinematic effect. As a guitar player he remains one of my favorites. Michael’s distilled Bob Andrews from Gen X and Captain Sensible and George Harrison and all these choice rock’n’roll and punk players into something distinctly his own.

Somewhere in Madrid, Spain (Spain Radio Nacional) 

Tell us your top 10 desert island discs?

That’s tough. I’d like to ensure a bunch of different moods are covered, so let’s see . . . how about:

Hamza El Din - Music Of Nubia

Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou - Éthiopiques 21: Piano Solo

Mark Hollis - s/t

Skip James - Today!

Charles Mingus - The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady

Mission Of Burma - Vs.

The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers

Television - Marquee Moon

The Velvet Underground - s/t

Wire - 154

Who are some of your favorite current bands?

Bed Wettin' Bad Boys, Cable Ties, Contractions, FACS, Gotobeds, Grey Hairs, Hammered Hulls, Hot Snakes, Light Beams, METZ, Mint Mile, Modern Nature, Patois Counselors, Pays P., Rattle, Skull Practitioners, Slum of Legs, Sunwatchers, Tanning Bats, TK Echo, The Unit Ama.

I know I’m forgetting stuff. There’s a ton of excellent music being made right now.

What’s next for Savak? Once the lockdown is over will you guys tour?

It’s hard to be certain about anything these days, but I do know we’re eager to play once the Javel water has cleared. My hope is that we reschedule our UK tour as well as the shows we had on deck with Archers of Loaf. We were also trying to coordinate a Japanese tour, which we’d love to do, so I’ll add that to the list.

In the meantime we have a couple of non-album singles coming out later in the year.

I love making music, so whatever form it needs to take to make it work given our circumstances I’m fine with. Wanna jam on our phones? Hit me up!

SAVAK’s new one- Rotting Teeth in The Horses Mouth

BONUS QUESTION:  Tell us about all of those shows you recorded in the 80’s and have been putting up on the Dischord page? Great stuff!

Thanks! My mom bought me a Sony Betacam in 1985. I honestly had no inclination towards videotaping anything prior to this, but I think she may have thought it was a positive thing for a teenager to get involved in instead of playing Atari or hanging out at the Orange Julius at the mall or whatever. So I had this camera and I started taping what I was doing, which was basically going to shows. I didn’t think much about it and I never watched the tapes afterwards, so just slowly built up a collection of recordings that sat in a box at my parents’ house for years. It wasn’t until James Schneider started working on what eventually became the Punk the Capital movie that the tapes were unearthed. Then Scott Crawford wanted to use them for Salad Days and had the genius idea of getting Dave Grohl’s production company to digitize them, as they wanted footage for that Sonic Highways show. So at Scott’s suggestion I sheepishly asked if it was something they could do and they immediately said yes. I was pretty stunned by their generosity. The tapes themselves are now part of the Punk Archive in the DC Public Library, which is both cool and hilarious. The idea of random stuff I videotaped when I was 15 being part of an institutional archive is pretty absurd. Now that I’ve got this extra pandemic time to spend in front of my computer, I’ve been editing down each set, adjusting the light balance so the footage is less murky and also remastering the audio so they sound better. The timing of the Dischord Records Fan Page on Facebook is fortuitous, as it provides a reasonably eager audience for what might have otherwise just been a few additional gigs of server space being cooled in a Google data center in Moncks Corner, South Carolina.

“Who you callin’ a low life?” 

www.savakband.com

www.savak.bandcamp.com

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 42

Last time: Frostbite continues to not be an issue for female cast members, Ed gave a chemistry lesson, and Kimblee was just the worst. Onwards!

Al still hasn’t woken up? That’s… probably not a good thing. For now, Winry’s watching over his disassembled parts in a cabin, while the rest of the Crew huddle around a small fire. Marcoh and May are still going over the notes, seems that “gold” keeps showing up and they think it’s some sort of pattern. I dunno, maybe the author just liked shiny things?

Winry wanders over to see what they’re doing, Marcoh says they’re trying to decipher whatever code the author’s using. Alchemist are very skeptical of peer review after all, he even wrote all his own notes on the Philosopher’s Stone in recipe format to pad out the Reveal episode. For now, they’re banking on all these gold references as the- oh hey, Al’s back! Al’s brought back up to speed on what he missed (not much, they broke him down for easier carrying and took shelter in this cabin), everyone gets to play puzzle and put him back together. May’s left holding the notes, probably wishing she was helping reassemble her husband… wait, reassemble? Pieces? Aha! Winry and Marcoh are just a little freaked out at May tossing all the pages to the ground in a big mess, but then she explains that they need to physically overlap all the references to “immortality” and “gold”. Even Scar get in on all the fun! Later, all the pages are down, and… yeah, I don’t see it. But now May’s taking some charcoal to connect all the symbols in the notes, and draws… [Al]: “It’s the country-wide Transmutation Circle.” Marcoh’s not doing too well, the Chimeras are yelling at him for these useless notes that aren’t telling them anything they don’t already know. Scar’s not happy either, to see that his brother’s research ended up being the Bad Guy’s plan… wait, but these paper notes weren’t the only thing your brother wrote, or rather drew. Don’t you have a bunch of ink on your arm? Calling it now, there’s more to this than just what was written in the papers. Al seems to think so too, although not about the arm being relevant, he just thinks that there’s more hidden past this first code. “Truth within the truth”, right? Or maybe he’s just trying to keep everyone hopeful. Whatever it is, it gets Marcoh out of his slump. Alright everyone, stare at the papers again to see if anything oh for Leto’s sake, Yoki, cover your mouth when you sneeze! Now the papers are all disorganized, “you can’t even tell which side of the page is right-side-up anymore” oh I get it. Turn the pages around, see what symbol you can make on the other side! So the pages are turned around, the new symbols connected, and it’s a new TC! An Xingese Alkahestry one, at that. So what does it do? Episode 42 - “Signs of a Counteroffensive” Hello? Xingese Alkahestry TC? Any explanation there? No? We’re just going to go back to the tunnels? Fine, let’s see what Ed and his own Chimera troops are up to. That’s not Ed, that’s Kimblee, being a creep and licking his cut hand. I get it, you’re weird and disturbing, just use your Philosopher’s Stone to fix your injury for Leto’s sake. Oh hey Ed was right, Kimblee did get lost wandering around the mines. Look, can Kimblee just die already and we can get back to the Goths? They were at least fairly competent, and aside from Bradley’s sudden case of Red Eyes and Evil Gloating at The Mighty Armstrong they made for good villains. Now we’re just following the wanderings of an idiot who won’t even heal his injuries and forgot to bring a map on his hunt. And again! You know, when I see a giant red X scrawled across a crooked door that reveals a staircase winding down into darkness, that’s generally a sign that Bad Things are below and you shouldn’t go. But Kimblee ignores that and continues down even when there’s no sign of his quarry. Bones, too! Huh, looks like this is connected to Sloth’s Tunnel. Well that guarantees that the Mine Crew didn’t come this way, otherwise they would have been seen by oh hi Pride. Kimblee reports that he’s searching for Scar, Pride tells him to hold off for now, go ahead and oh crap it’s time to “carve the Crest of Blood” at Briggs. And Armstrong the Great’s not there! But on the other hand, Pride is telling Kimblee to do it on his lonesome apparently. I changed my mind, this is going to be a hilarious curbstomp. Back at the Fort, Sideburns has returned to exposit that Kimblee’s missing after an explosion in the mine shafts. Hearing that no body was found Buccy and Falman exchange a look, and ask if any Briggs troops went missing with him. Sideburns has to come to a stop to say that they also couldn’t find Kimblee’s two flunkies, and the Fullmetal Alchemist. Aw, Buccy does care about the kid who snagged his crush. Sideburns is checking in with Breda, who’s reporting that a border war with their western neighbor is racking up quite the body count. Down south Fuery, no! Don’t hurt the radio operator, I’m almost completely over my annoyance that he took away my Fuhrer Fury joke! [Fuery]: “Damnit! I’m gonna survive this! I’m gonna live! I won’t die for this-” ...Fuery? Alright, so… Sideburns is staying in touch with Roy through “a messenger connected to the Armstrong Family” hey it’s Granny Armstrong! Got some more flowers for us? Uhhhh. Sloth just finished the tunnel. That’s not good. Uncle says it’s almost time. Mid-ep pictures of Pride’s Shadows and Beard. Now we’re in a town that looks a little worse for wear, did a Protagonist come through here or something? The work crews stop to get a lunch break from a woman with pink bangs, peaceful countryside guitar music starts as a worker tells Rose wait a minute *quick search to earlier recaps* It’s Rose! It’s Liore! Aw, the town’s rebuilding after the riots the Goths started. I’d honestly written off the place as a loss, but they’ve actually survived and have that good old wholesome community vibe going on. It’s not perfect yet, with those comments about how they don’t have any meat and have to ration food, but it’s a start. Almost everyone’s working, aside from those too old or young to, or… wait, Ling? Uh what. Beard. Why are you pulling a Ling. What’s with this “oh poor feeble starving me” routine? Guys. Beard is gulping down soup at an amusingly fast pace and smiling and oh my Leto is is flirting with Rose? Seriously he’s turned into Ling, what is this. [Beard]: “Don’t underestimate yourself. A delicious meal and the smile of a lovely young lady are more help than you can imagine.”

I can’t make this up, Beard’s even getting a thumbs-up from the cook for that line. OK phew we’re back to mysterious Beard asking for direction, this is more like I’m used to. He’s looking for… aha, he’s looking for the Church of Leto! Finally, we can invoke His Letoness to smite the Goths and restore peace to this world. About time! The church hasn’t gotten the same repairs as the rest of the town, and when they go further in Beard finds a pool of toxic water blocking the way. [Beard]: “I get the feeling this was put here to keep people from going any further. So…” *walks straight forward to shock of Rose and Cook* *Transmutes a stone walkway, without any hand movements or TC?* Now he’s wandering off into the darkness, asking Rose and Cook to wait for him to come back. Obviously they’re a little perturbed by all this. So I think that Rose and Cook are going to be waiting for a little while, Beard’s gone far enough in to run into Sloth’s Tunnel. I wonder if him knocking a hole in the side will mess up the pattern? He’s walking along the tracks, impressed at the scale of it all oh yeah Pride. Well, time to see how Beard fares against a Goth! Never mind, Beard’s employing a Ciaphas Cain and getting the frig out of there. Earthbent spikes from the wall? Nope. Giant pillars to try and trap Pride? Nope. Excuse me? “I’m afraid that’s all I’ve got?” What the Leto are you talking about man, you are the original form of Uncle, how are you so intimidated by a single Goth? Admittedly it’s Pride who seems ridiculously strong even by Goth standards, but still. And now he’s tripped over a rock! Seriously dude, this is Kimblee levels of bad, can you… manage to get into your tunnel where Pride’s shadows recoil and can’t touch you? Huh. That’s… and now Beard analyzing Pride, noting he can’t reach past Central or the Tunnel, it’s his container. Pride is actually freezing, his constant disturbing motion stopped in annoyance as Beard picks apart his weakness and is he taunting the shadow demon from a foot away? [Beard]: *head tilt, slight smile* “Are you angry?”

Wow. Turns out Beard is a sarcastic little shit like Ling. Who’da thunk? Pride is claiming that he’s never angry, that he’s left all other emotions behind with Uncle. Beard lists off the Seven Deadly Sins: Lust, Greed, Sloth, Gluttony, Envy, Wrath, “and of course Pride.” Beard snarks that Pride was Uncle’s biggest trait, and his fashioning of Pride in his original Toothy Shadow appearance is just a sign of his egotistical nature. Pride insists that Beard go with him to see Uncle, but Beard takes a rain-check on that. Before he leaves, though, he tells Pride to pass on a message: “Tell him Slave 23 will be dropping in quite soon. Just tell him to be patient and relax in his chair beneath Central, I’m coming.” Uncle is waiting for him, as are his four chess pieces… wait, which one is missing? Hey, Rose and Cook actually waited? You gonna explain what happened, Beard? [Rose]: “What exactly were you doing in there?” [Beard]: “Hmmm. Sending a declaration of war.” Wow. Beard is just hamming up his role as the New Ling, isn’t he? Back to Briggs! The guard is changing up on the roof, when they turn to dramatic music to oh crap it’s the Drachmans! Sound the alarm, close the door and turn off the lights! If they think nobody’s home, maybe they’ll just drop off a few Letoism pamphlets and leave! Or you can break out the artillery, that works too. I’m assuming this guy is the Drachman CO, given his uniform bling and impressive beard. He’s noting that they’re lucky The Northern Wall of Briggs is away (because they wouldn’t dare attack if they knew she was within stabbing range), good work Mister oh. Well, that’s actually not a bad plan Kimblee. Get the neighboring country to wage war on expansionist Amestris, make a Crest of Blood without having to dirty your hands. Or since this is Kimblee we’re talking about, kill to your heart's content while disposable mooks deal with those you don’t bother with. So, those are some big cannons pointed at Fort Briggs. Let’s hope their walls are reinforced enough to are you kidding me?! That’s the end of the episode? Boo! Ok then! A very interesting episode, the biggest thing for me is Beard’s characterization. Happily chatting with townspeople, going all Adventurer into the darkness, and I honestly can’t tell if he was actually running from Pride because he didn’t want to fight or to lure him towards the tunnel edge in a case of Obfuscating Stupidity. I’m curious to see where he goes from here, and if he reverts back to his standoffish Mysterious Absentee Father mode when he runs into Ed again. A good- Hold up, after-credits scene. Zampana? Oh it’s Boar! Wait who are you reporting to WHAT THE HELL DUDE. You’re selling the Crew out to Envy and Bradley? I liked you, why’d you have to be another Raven? Boo.

[optimistic-violinist]

2. Band Names and Personality Differences

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome back to the CALM Band!AU. So this is the second story chronologically! The first one can be found here, one shot can be found here, and the fic that started it all here! Thanks so much for reading and for your kind comments! As always, enjoy!

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: none

Also I can't get Keep Readings to work so I'm very sorry for the long post!

Logan double checked the address on his phone and glanced back at the building. Yes, this was the place. It had taken about two weeks for them to find a time where their schedules aligned and Patton had invited them over for a song writing session at his place. It was a nice apartment building, close to downtown, but not over the top.

Shrugging, Logan entered the building. He had sent Patton a text and a moment later, was buzzed in, where he then proceeded to the fifth floor.

“Hey Logan!” Patton called from the kitchen. “Come in and make yourself comfortable, I’m just finishing up.”

“Thank you.” The music producer hung his coat up and slipped off his shoes before fully entering the apartment.

It was lovely, homey place. The front hallway led to a spacious living room decked out in blue and white with huge windows overlooking the city. A keyboard, guitar, bass, mic, and music stand were set up against the wall facing the couch and coffee table. To his right was the kitchen, separated from the living room by a bar counter. Patton was just pulling a sheet of cookies out of the oven.

“I didn’t know everyone’s favorite, so I made a couple different types.”

“That’s very kind of you Patton. You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

Patton just shrugged, a pleased, if somewhat shy smile on his face. “I like baking, so it was no problem.”

Logan sat on the couch, perched on the edge of it, trying to look comfortable, but absolutely failing at it. He was looking around, just kind of taking it all in, when the doorbell buzzed.

“Hello? Patton-cake, are you home?”

“Oh!” Patton quickly ran over to the PA. “My neighbor,” he quickly explained. “Hi Mrs. Foster.”

“Hi dear! Could you help me with my groceries? I think we can get them all in one load if you helped.”

“For sure! I’ll be right down.” He turned to Logan. “I’m sorry, but she just had hip surgery recently, and, anyways, this’ll be really quick! I’ll be right back.”

He was out the door before Logan could reply. Alright then. The music producer looked around and stood to go inspect the instruments.

The guitar was baby blue and obviously well loved. Logan had done some research on his fellow compatriots and knew that Patton had been playing ever since he was a kid. The bass looked newer as did the keyboard. There was a box of sheet music tucked underneath. A quick rifle through revealed loose sheet music of random pop songs, and beginner’s Disney, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Star Wars books. Patton seemed to dabble in piano at least.

Glancing at the door to make sure Patton hadn’t returned, he got up and pressed the power button and pressed a couple keys. Hm. Not a bad keyboard.

Logan shifted to be more directly in front of the keyboard and played a chord. His hands shifted and he began to improvise- he’d had a tune stuck in his head earlier and built off of that.

Logan loved piano. It had been his first instrument and he had never given it up, even when he got into electronic music and DJing. He loved that too, but he loved how logical and expressive the piano could be.

Hand over hand, he finished with a scale that ran the length of the keyboard and was left echoing, a pleasant resolution to the melody. He nodded in satisfaction and turned around only to nearly stumble back.

“Well don’t stop there,” Virgil said.

The other three were all sitting on the couch, Patton on the edge of his seat, Roman looking attentive, and Virgil actually looking at ease for once, guitar case leaning against the couch. Logan could feel a hot flush creeping up his cheeks.

“Logan that was so good!” Patton squeed.

“I say, you’ve been holding out on us! That was amazing!”

“Yes, well,” Logan cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. “Ah, thank you, I suppose.”

“How long have you been playing?” Patton asked.

“Well, my whole life practically.”

“What song was that?” Roman asked as Patton got up to grab a cookie (or two) and a notebook.

“Oh, it, uh, doesn’t have a name. It was inspired by Rewrite the Stars, but I just kind of… made it up as I went.”

“We’re using it!” Roman yelled, jumping up. “That’s the melody of our first song and Logan’s going to play the piano for it.”

“Only if he wants to,” Virgil cut in. Logan made grateful eye contact, but now he was thinking.

“I suppose it makes sense. If we are trying to keep our identities a secret, then no one would suspect me of being the keyboard artist. Or of Patton being the bassist for that matter.”

“Being the basis of what?” Patton joked, settling down on the floor near Virgil. “Anyhoo, I’ve got my notebook and I’ve been working on some lyrics and I think they’d go really well with your melody, Logan.”

Virgil leaned over and pulled his electric guitar out of its case along with a mini amp and played an experimental riff. “Logan, you want to play that again?”

Logan nodded and played the same experimental starting cord, followed by another, before starting into the melody.

“Starting off alone, can make the road seem pretty long,

“Going, going, going, and before too long, you’re gone.”

Roman scooted over to join Patton on the floor, reading over his shoulder. Virgil joined in, rounding out the sound with some supportive chords.

“Thinking no one understands. No one can relate.

“You hope you don’t lose yourself, caught in a stalemate.”

“Calm down,” Patton sang. “You’re doing just fine. You’ve got others by your side!”

“Calm down,” Roman echoed. “It’ll be alright. Just keep on going, that’s how you’ll find the light!”

“When troubles come and things all change,” they sang together. “Calm down. You’re gonna be, you’re gonna be, gonna be alright.”

Logan took off, running through scales and complicated melodies, backing off to allow Virgil to knock out some impressive rifts.

“That’s all I’ve got so far,” Patton admitted.

“I love it,” Roman announced as the others trailed off and nodded supportively. Roman pulled out his phone and opened a note. “I came up with some lyrics myself. Could we somehow put them together?”

“We can always try!” Patton announced.

Two hours later, personality differences had become clear and, while they had their first song nearly done, and the lyrics for another one started, Patton called for an enforced cookie break, putting himself between Logan and Roman, who were trying not to fume, and Virgil sat on the bar counter, looking annoyed, trying hard to not quit then and there.

“I’m just saying-“

“Logan, shush. It’s cookie time.”

“I just don’t understand-“

“Roman. Eat your cookie.”

“Yes, Dad.” Roman muttered and munched on his cookie. Virgil snorted.

“These are really good Patton.”

“I’m glad you like them! And there’s plenty more, so help yourselves. Just don’t get a stomach ache!”

He really is like a dad, Virgil thought, swiping two more cookies. “Y’know,” he mused. “We still need a band name.”

“I’ve been thinking about that!” Roman cried. “What do you guys think of Dreamers Come True?”

Virgil gave a hmm of disapproval that accompanied Logan’s confused look.

“I don’t think so,” the producer said. “We need something more straight forward. Perhaps… Variety? Or Farrago?”

“Boring!” Roman moaned.

“Come on now Logan, we aren’t opera singers,” Patton joked.

Logan stared at him confusedly. “You realize ‘farrago’ is not Italian in origin. It does stem from Latin though, so I could see how you-“

“It’s a joke Pocket Protector.”

Patton seemed to sense things were heating up again. “Calm down guys.” Virgil spoke over them, before they could start arguing again.

“Maybe that should be our name,” he smirked. “Calm Down. We’ve said it enough today. And it is in one of our songs.”

Surprisingly, the others actually considered it.

“We should also probably have codenames,” Logan mused. “Calm is a four letter word and there are four of us. It would not be hard to make it an acronym.”

Patton immediately jumped in. “You could be Logic! ‘Cuz it kind of goes along with your DJ name and it starts with L and you’re the smart one in the group!” The others looked like they wanted to protest that last statement, then thought about it and realized he was right.

“And Roman, you could be Creativity since this was your idea in the first place! And your lyrics are really good.”

“I will admit, it has a nice ring to it,” Roman mused. “What about you two?”

Virgil raised his hand. “Just call me Anxiety. It’s how I feel 90% of the time anyway.”

Virgil caught Patton looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped. Instead he said, “So that leaves me with M.”

“Mom! You made us cookies.”

“No,” Logan said, shaking his head, Patton looking grateful. “Remember, people will be calling us these names.”

“What about… Morality?” Patton suggested. “I know it’s kinda weird, but-”

“I like it. It suits you somehow,” Roman said.

“You are the common sense in this group after all,” Virgil agreed.  Again the others looked like they would protest, then realized there was no use. “So is this, like, official?”

“CALM it is!” Roman declared. The others nodded.

“Sweet. I’ve got to get going, but thanks again Patton. This was… fun, I guess.”

The others bid their farewells as Virgil left and the others left soon after as well. Roman’s head was buzzing as he- or, well, his driver- drove away, and he pulled up a drawing app on his phone. After all, they would need a logo and as Creativity, he figured he could get a head start.

Taglist: @celestial-firestorm @oddball-wqri @fioxypurr @kaytikitty @purplesoul-at-hogwarts @stop-it-anxiety ((I added you cuz you said you like to be tagged in things ok byeeee))

[atinykidult]

Walk You Home - Lee Chan

[fluff full-length] [summer theme] - 2,762 words

Summary: Set during your summer break, implied neighbor!Lee Chan insists on walking you home after every date. Featuring lots of laughter, a summer job at a burger restaurant, protective older brother!Hansol, and so much fluff.

Inspired by: NCT Dream’s Walk You Home

A/N: Guys! This is my first longer piece, and I edited it like crazy! I bet there’s still tons of mistakes, but thank you so much for reading this! If you like it, please leave me some feedback. So excited to finally post this! Thanks again for reading!

You'd gone on five dates with Lee Chan, who you'd discovered to be the sweetest and most hardworking highschooler to ever exist. Each date had been perfect, ending with him offering to walk you home. Each time, you’d tried to decline. Each time, he’d ignored you.

By the fifth date, you learned to just accept his company and enjoy your time together. (You found plenty to enjoy.)

"So what do you think you'll do this summer?" Chan looked away from the curb he tightrope walked on to smile at you. "Please don't tell me you're disappearing off to the Caribbeans or something."

"My family's too middle class for that." You laughed, then laughed harder as he stumbled off the curb. "Eyesight helps with balance, y'know." You gave him a few seconds to recover before you asked, "Would you miss me?"

"Yes," Chan replied immediately, "very much so."

"'Very much so.'" You laughed again. "Chan, I love you."

You could almost hear him suck a breath in.

"I mean, I love you too," he replied, diligently keeping his eyes on the curb ahead of him, "but I feel like you didn't mean it literally — which I do, for the record."

Now you yourself tripped, and you hadn't been balancing on narrow cement. Noticing your red-cheeked silence, Chan swiftly came to your rescue.

"I'm sorry, Y/N! I shouldn't have said that, huh?" He laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat.

You barely registered him talking while your heartbeat pounded louder than summer thunder.

"Shoulda waited to confess until junior year, right? We're both young — I know — and I shouldn't jump the gun on these things."

Inwardly, you shouted that 'It's not too early at all!'

You made a choked sound, fanning your face desperately, but he didn't look at you. His cheeks had turned red, too, and he busied himself by determinedly staring at the curb.

Suddenly, he stopped walking and pulled you onto the curb behind him.

Your sweaty palm tingled at his soft touch.

"See if you can keep up!"

He took off, letting go of your hand, and bounded over the curb steadily. Hobbling after him, you envied his grace. Although you stubbed your toes and fell off altogether too many times, you welcomed the sudden change in atmosphere. Laughing and bickering, you both tried pushing and tripping each other, moving past the previous interaction with sincerely light hearts. (Really, though, this laughter felt more like a continuation of it.)

Chan and you stumbled to a halt when you reached your mailbox.

"Well, this is me!" you smiled, breathing uneven due to the exertion. "Thanks for walking me home!"

And, old fashioned as it felt, you truly appreciated it.

"No problem — I had fun," Chan replied easily. Sincerely.

"Me too." You shyly met his eyes. "See you soon?"

Seeing him beam at your words, you found yourself wanting to kiss his cheek. You chose not to.

"Obviously."

"Okay, then..." (You really felt like kissing his cheek... No, Y/N. Be a cool date.) "See you!"

"See you!"

You jogged to your porch, then turned to wave as he began trotting away. A smile crept onto your face when you found him already waving back. Your smile only grew wider when he glanced back a few moments after that.

When he noticed you still watching him, his grin matched yours — they were wide, toothy things rivaling the full, pizza pie moon.

'That's amore,' you thought to yourself.

"Good fifth date?" Your older brother, Hansol, interrupted your thoughts when he poked his head out the door. "What's taking so long?"

You jumped a foot into the air and sighed, following your brother inside.

"If he hurts you, I'll kill him," you distantly heard him mutter.

"I don't think that'll be a problem, big bro."

Your first five dates had ranged from late spring to early summer; during your summer break, you only had three more thanks to crazy schedules.

The youngest in an advanced troup, Chan's dance demanded a large portion of his time, which left him little time to himself, let alone enough time to take you out (then walk you home).

Meanwhile, you had found yourself both a first job and a car, thrusting you into the cruel world of customer service and gasoline prices.

"It's horrible!" you complained to Hansol throughout the first three weeks. "I have grease stains everywhere!"

"...It's not that terrible," you hesitantly murmured after a certain Tuesday.

That Tuesday's lunch rush had punished you, your coworkers, and your combined sanity, but you'd made it! Once the crowd left, only you and an empty lobby remained. Pulling out your phone, you nearly cried from relief—

Then the door swung open.

You bit your lip to keep the sob in.

"Hello! Can I get your ord" — you pocketed your phone and looked at the customer — "er?! Chan?!"

Playful eyes (that you felt highly attracted to) met yours. Said dancer lifted his eyebrow. "Y/N?!" he mimicked you, laughing right after.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, exhaustion gone instantly.

"What are you doing here?" he parroted again.

"Oh, stop!" You rolled your eyes, stifling your laughter. "But, really, what are you doing here, Chan?"

He leaned against the counter slightly, turning flirty as he answered.

"Lunch break — we usually pack our lunch, but my friends wanted me to grab burgers today." You vaguely recalled a picture he'd shown you before of his three close dance friends. "We finished a big piece we'd had choreography block on, so we wanted to celebrate!" Chan suddenly bit his lip and back peddled, looking less flirty as he floundered. "If that's a thing — choreography block. Soonyoung calls it that, but it might not be an actual term. Uh, it's like a writer's block, but for dance."

"I get it, Chan." You grinned, laughter bubbling up somewhere between your stomach and heart. "I don't dance, but I definitely understand." Your eyes lingered on the way sweat slicked his hair back. You'd only seen him with bangs; this look suited him. To keep the conversation moving in a way that wouldn't embarrass you, you added, "I didn't know you choreographed!"

You smiled inwardly at his blush and the way he ran a hand through his hair. This only slicked his bangs farther back. (100% a good look, you decided.)

"Yeah, just a little," he replied modestly.

In his hand, his phone screen lit up with a flood of notifications.

"Something up?" you asked.

"Hangry dancers." Chan smiled at you, meeting your gaze charmingly. Your heart jumped as his eyes lingered on yours just too long then brushed over your features.

"Right!" you exclaimed. "You need to order! Hangry dancers —not fun." At his smile, your brain collapsed on itself. "Right."

"Oh, yeah, I might need to do that." Chan bit his lip again, and you died inside. "I might have forgotten..." He showed you his phone screen with a list of burger orders. You were punching them in when he added cheesily, "I'm never good with time when I'm around you."

You died more.

After you'd entered the order — apparently dancers ate their body weight in grease — Chan leaned his elbows onto the counter so he looked up at you. At his puppylike pout, you braced yourself. You'd be cringing or laughing or swooning — there'd be no in between.

"What are your hours?" he asked.

You exhaled in surprise; no emotional response kicked in, and you showed him a copy of your schedule. Nodding along as he skimmed through it, he, at last, gave you a blinding smile.

"You work one night less than I dance, and you leave work around the same time I do." He pointed to your schedule to emphasize his point. "So... Can we walk home together?"

"Uh, I drive now?" you replied unsurely, suddenly wishing you hadn't bought a car.

He cracked a smile. "You do? Congrats!"

"Yep!" you smiled and considered your options. A smile formed on your face when you found a good one. "I'm guessing by you asking that, that you walk to your studio?"

Chan nodded, tilting his head at you curiously. "I walk most places." He added sheepishly, "My parents probably wouldn't have let me dance if it hadn't been so close."

"That'd be a waste," you replied instinctively, though honestly.

He ducked his head, clearly flustered, and ran his hand through his hair, which still looked attractive slicked back, by the way.

"Why," he cleared his throat, "do you ask?"

You closed your eyes for bravery, then answered. "How about I start driving you home?"

His walk to dance took him about fifteen minutes; the drive from his studio to his house lasted about ten.

("There's too many stop signs!" you once complained to him. He'd laughed and jokingly complimented your smooth breaking. Two drives later, you whispered to yourself, 'There's too few.')

Needless to say, you adored your many short rides home with Chan.

Some nights, you and Chan would argue over different artists and why certain songs sounded better than others. Although you often declared war over who should have won yesterday's music show, you could always agree on one artist, The Vocal Unit, if arguments got out of hand.

(Sometimes you felt strongly about your music, okay? Not to mention, these arguments sometimes gave Chan a passionate edge in his voice that you grew slightly — just slightly — addicted to.)

Other nights, you would listen to each other rant about the difficulties of life. Whether it featured you bemoaning your boss or he, his dance instructors, you both made excellent therapists for each other.

Other nights, you would play word games.

Other nights you would discuss deep things, like his fear of injuring himself and ruining his chances. ("ACLs tear so easily," he informed you miserably.) Or you'd share your anxiety over your brother moving out soon.

Other nights, you would randomly pull over to star watch for a few minutes.

Other nights, he would ask you to pull over at the entrance of your neighborhood and steal the aux cord. Then he would pull you out of the car. Then he would wrap his arms around you. Then you would dance with him, feeling like you'd stolen the movie set and accompanying actor from some actress.

(Other nights like this felt more like Footloose or beginner ballet instructionals.)

Other nights — or, rather, one specific night towards the end of summer break — you stopped in front of Chan's house and pulled your key out of the ignition. He'd only just jumped out of the passenger seat, so he poked his head back in.

"Hey, is the car alright?" Chan asked you, frowning as he inspected the vehicle. He didn't notice the keys in your hand.

His head moved closer to yours while he looked at the dash, and you prayed for luck when you grabbed the sides of his face and pushed your lips against his.

You must have been lucky; he kissed back.

His dance schedule changed right as the school year rolled around, bringing the last car ride with him.

"I'm going to miss this," you remarked to him, trying to keep your voice casual. In fact, the change to your schedules felt especially not-casual to you, but what else could you do?

"Aw, me, too!" Chan chirped in reply. Apparently, your attempt succeeded. "Thank you for driving me home all these times! I should repay you for the gas it took."

Because you'd settled this with him before, you sent him a look. Annoying, chivalrous boy — he always wanted to take care of you like King Arthur or something.

He grinned in response. "I may have been kidding, sort of." Taking a deep breath, he avoided your eyes as he continued talking, which told you he was planning something. "But I really do want to make it up to you. For real! And soon."

"Sure." You glanced at him as you flicked on your turn signal. A familiar warmth spread in your chest when you found him inconspicuously peeking at your reaction. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"I'll tell you when you park," he promised you.

"Hmm," you replied lightly. "Do I get a kiss with the explanation?"

He laughed and rolled with your teasing. "Of course! Can't distract you when you're driving, after all."

"Um, excuse you! I'm great at multitasking!"

You had pulled into his driveway and parked the car when he finally made a move, taking your hand in his.

"Hey," he said quietly, instantly turning the atmosphere into something soft.

"Hey," you parroted softly, almost joking, but too invested in meeting his eyes for it to be funny.

"I'm going to really miss these rides, too."

You cracked a faint smile. "But we're still going to hang out a lot, right?"

Chan leaned in, eyes crinkling happily, and squeezed your hand in his. "Of course!"

The weekend after school started back, Chan made good on his promise to pay you back. (He'd forgotten to tell you his plans after you'd closed your eyes and 'invited' him to kiss you into the softest stupor.)

It began with him pulling into your driveway in his own vehicle.

"You got a car?!" You slid into the passenger seat and waved goodbye to Hansol. At Chan's nod, you punched his arm lightly. "Since when?! And why didn't you tell me at school?"

"I thought it would be a fun surprise." Chan bit his lip, eyes sparkling. "You like it?"

"You have to start halving gas and miles with me? Yes please!" You laughed and made a show of winking.

He laughed too and began leaning in to peck your cheek.

"So..." you began. When his lips had almost reached your cheek, you turned your head so his lips landed on the corner of your mouth. "Where are we heading to?" you finished brightly.

Making a sound of protest, Chan took a moment to kiss your lips properly before he hurriedly retreated to his side of the car. His wide, unwavering grin told you that he felt beyond pleased with everything.

"There's this park with a really nice sandwich place near it," he informed you as he turned the key. "I thought we might as well go check it out. A date — to pay you back for this summer... Or start to, anyway!"

"Sounds solid!" You began adjusting his passenger seat to your preference like you owned it. (Chan noticed, and his grin only grew wider because of that. Of course, he had long ago taken over yours.) "I'm so glad you picked sandwiches. Burgers aren't that fun anymore."

"I may have thought of that," Chan replied cheekily.

You snorted and stole the aux cord.

"That song should not — should not! — have won!!!"

The date was all laughter and smiles.

When you wandered around the park, Chan held your hand like the romantic he was. When you got crumbs on your face, Chan cheesily wiped them off for you. When you found the prettiest creek, Chan took photos of you. (You then forced him to pose for his own pictures.)

Altogether, it was a dream.

When Chan drove you back to your neighborhood, the sky had darkened considerably, and the lampposts had already flickered on.

You felt inspired.

"Go to your house," you instructed him.

He glanced at you, brow furrowed. "What?"

"You heard me right..." Your heart fluttered even before you said your next bit. This was cheesy. So cheesy. "I want you to walk me home."

Chan's confused expression transitioned into the brightest smile-eye smile combination of all time. Not missing a beat, he flicked the turn signal and u-turned.

Your face was burning as he parked his car in his driveway and sprinted around to he open your door for you.

Your stomach was fluttering as you linked fingers with him and headed down the road, him balancing on the curb and you on the pavement.

Your heart was swelling with warmth as he stopped to kiss you a block away from your house.

You could feel him lingering with you, could picture his smile, could hear his laughter, even as you laid your head on your pillow and smiled up at the ceiling.

As you smiled like a fool, you shook your head at yourself.

All this from him walking you home.

You bit your lip.

All this from him walking you home, indeed.