#and figuring there was that one time with election interference
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Fun fact: did you know the US government has been awarding Automattic Inc. millions of dollars since 2021 which will run until December of 2024? Specifically, the presidential office has been funding tumblr.
Automattic Inc. bought tumblr in 2019.
Do you know who else funded Automattic Inc. in 2019 some $70,000? The US Department of Defense.
#Though tbf i have no idea how these awards work#i was just suddenly curious#id heard that sometimes the us government gets involved with business#and figuring there was that one time with election interference#i was like huh could the us have invested money in tumblr for the purpose of surveillance or influence?#like to strengthen democracy or reduce organizing or prevent some resurgance of the red scare of communsm#and then i was like#oh wow look at all this government funding haha#i mean i guess it could be for anything though#like i think banks will pay out companies#...#wait but it wouldnt be the DoD then would it?#well anyway just thought this was interestinf#youll also noticed Automattic got funding from the department of agriculture way back when so who is really to say#also Automattic also owns WordPress so this could all he a coincidence and the funding might actually be associated with#another organization Automattic owns#i honestly wrote this after two searches so i have done zero in depth research about it lmao
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just feel like even if we all vote and Biden wins, Trump won't accept the loss, and eventually they'll just put him in anyway. And then there won't be another real election. Even if Biden wins and somehow is actually confirmed (which again, I think is unlikely) we're going to have to do this for 30 more years because of the SC, and that isn't at all sustainable.
All this isn't to say I won't vote but I just think people are being way too optimistic about what happens if Biden wins. I don't think him winning will keep Trump out or the horrible fascist future at bay.
Look, I get the fear. I do, I do... but this is also one of the times when you have to ask if it's actually telling you something true, or if it's just preying on that generalized feeling of doom to make everything seem hopeless even if we win again. And that is... there is absolutely no actual mechanism for Trump to be installed as president if Biden wins the Electoral College (since as we have repeatedly seen, the popular vote is immaterial). SCOTUS is horrible and evil and are trying to interfere as much ahead of time for Trump as they can, but part of that is because they can't simply issue an order for Biden to be removed and Trump to become God King By Fiat. That is not how it works. If Biden wins in November, he will be president until his term ends, he steps down, Kamala takes over, or anything else.
Trump tried a coup with all the entire overwhelming might of the US government as the sitting president last time; fortunately, it failed. Reforms to the Electoral Count Act have been made to prevent another January 6. The Department of Defense and the military are still under (and would be on another January 6) Biden's command, not Trump's. That's not to say that Trump won't try some shit with his insane cult followers, but he is just a late 70s conman from Queens out on bail and under sentence for a criminal trial, who is already the biggest and most disgraced loser and asshole in American political history. He is so desperate to cheat his way back into power because in a real sense, this IS the last-chance saloon for him. He can't put off the legal proceedings, however long they take, for another four years. He's losing his marbles at a rapid rate. I'm just saying: we don't know what or when, but there will be (and already have been) real consequences for him. That is why he is scrabbling so hard.
"Even if we vote, nothing matters and Trump will win anyway" is another of those insidious lies that works to make you feel as if the battle is endless and pointless and none of its victories matter. Of course it will not all be magically fixed forever if Biden wins. We will still have to figure some godforsaken fucking way to expand SCOTUS or kick Alito and Thomas off it. But we will have bought ourselves, our democracy, our country, and the world time to do that, and put another nail in Trump's coffin. That matters. It matters a lot.
Fascism wants to present itself as overwhelming, irresistible, inevitable, and ready to happen no matter what you do, and that's what your brain wants you to buy in now. But that's not the case, Trump is not inevitable or some all-powerful monolith (in fact, another of the debate takeaways seemed to be that Biden looked bad but people still hate Trump too much for it to really shift anything). He is a loser, a fraud, a conman, a liar, and a crook, and he WANTS you to fear him like an almighty god. Don't give him or the MAGAGOP the satisfaction.
Frankly, having to endure another four months of this might kill us all, and I know that we are tired and scared (me too). But IT IS NOT INEVITABLE THAT WE ARE DOOMED. Not at all. Let's hang onto that and tell that anxiety doom voice to shove it.
Hugs.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Jay Kuo at Think Big Picture:
For years, critics of Vladimir Putin have been warning that the Russians have taken over parts of the Republican Party. They raised the alarm as Republicans defended the Russian leader, parroted clear Kremlin talking points, and became mules for disinformation campaigns. In recent weeks, that criticism has shifted to include not just Republicans who have left the party, including former representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger, but current GOP members. Recently, two powerful Republican chairs of the House Intelligence Committee and the House Foreign Affairs Committee warned openly about how Russian propaganda has seeped into their party and even made its way into speeches on the House floor. Other members are now even openly questioning whether some of their fellow officials have been compromised and are being extorted. Rep. Tim Burchett (R-TN) suggested in a recent interview that the Russian spies may possess compromising tapes of some of his colleagues. It’s unclear where he’s getting his information or how accurate it is.
And then there’s this: According to a report by Politico, a number of European politicians were recently paid by Moscow to interfere in the upcoming EU elections by Russians pretending to be a “media” outlet called “Voice of Europe.” The Kremlin-backed operation used money to influence officials to take pro-Russian stances. Authorities have conducted some money seizures and launched an investigation into which members of the European Parliament may have accepted cash bribes. This in turn raises an important question for our own politics: Are the Russians doing the same with U.S. politicians, directly or indirectly? This piece walks through the three types of compromise—disinformation, extortion, and bribery—to give a sense of what we know and what we don’t really know, and, importantly, where we should be on our guard. As this summary will show, from the 2016 election till now, there’s enough Russian smoke now to assume there is a fire, one that compromises not only the integrity of our own system of elections, but the safety and security of the free world. Duped.
Over the past year, we have witnessed two distinct kinds of Russian propaganda in action. Both use our own elected officials and intelligence processes to amplify and even weaponize disinformation. The first kind originates online through Russian-backed internet channels. Information operatives begin spreading false rumors, for example about Ukraine, that then get repeated within right-wing silos before reaching willing purveyors of it within the halls of Congress. A chief culprit in Congress is Georgia’s Rep. Marjorie Taylor Greene. Among the Russian-originated false narratives she has uplifted is the patently false claim that Ukraine is waging a war against Christianity while Russia is protecting it. On Steve Bannon’s War Room podcast, Greene even claimed, without evidence, that Ukraine is “executing priests.”
Where would Greene have gotten this wild, concocted notion? We don’t have to look far. Russian talking points have included this gaslighting narrative for some time. The twist, of course, is that, according to the International Religious Freedom or Belief Alliance, it is the Russian army that has been torturing and executing priests and other religious figures, including 30 Ukrainian clergy killed and 26 held captive by Russian forces. The Russians have also targeted Baptists, whom they see as U.S. propagandists, according to an in-depth Time magazine piece on the violence and death directed toward evangelicals. The Congressional propaganda mouthpieces for Russia aren’t limited to the U.S. House. Over in the Senate, Ohio Senator J.D. Vance was also recently accused of spreading Kremlin-backed disinformation about Ukraine, this time over spurious allegations that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy siphoned U.S. aid to purchase himself two luxury yachts.
[...]
The accusation that Russians are presently extorting and blackmailing U.S. politicians into supporting Russia’s agenda has some broad appeal. It would help explain some mysteries, including why people like Sen. Lindsey Graham (R-SC) suddenly is no longer as supportive of Ukraine as before and constantly kisses the ring of Donald Trump these days—after presciently saying in 2016 that the GOP would destroy itself if it nominated him.
The problem has been that these accusations aren’t supported by much evidence. That means that political extortion by the Russians is either not a very prevalent practice, or it’s so effective that no one dares expose it. Either way, we’re left without much to go on. The Russian word kompromat came into common parlance around the time that Buzzfeed published a salacious story about another intelligence report back in early 2017. In that instance, the author, a former British intelligence officer named Christopher Steele, was concerned Russia had compromising data on the soon-to-be president, Donald Trump.
That report never wound up being substantiated, and its sources and funding came into question as well. But intelligence agencies are in general agreement that obtaining kompromat is standard practice by Russia, and someone like Trump could have been an easy mark considering the company that he kept (e.g. Jeffrey Epstein and Ghislaine Maxwell) and the projects he was involved with (e.g. the Miss Universe contest). Lately, the notion of kompromat emerged once again, this time not from Democratic-paid outfits but from within the GOP itself. Rep. Tim Burchett (R-TN) is one of the more “colorful” characters within the GOP, primarily known lately for being one of the eight members who voted to oust former Speaker Kevin McCarthy and even for getting into public jostling and shouting matches with McCarthy.
The Republican Party (or at least its pro-MAGA faction) is compromised by Russian kompromat.
#Trump Russia Scandal#GOP Russia#Russia#Donald Trump#Marjorie Taylor Greene#J.D. Vance#Volodymyr Zelensky#Tim Burchett#War Room#Stephen Bannon#Mike Turner#Michael McCaul#Christopher Steele
220 notes
·
View notes
Text
An Arrangement
1200 words / Prompt: Hobby
Summary: Mycroft finds an ally
Mycroft Holmes regards the police officer who is sitting on the other side of the desk. Dark eyes, prematurely greying hair. Good at his job, recent promotion. A sense of humour (laugh lines), and an uncompromising commitment to honour. Maybe that’s not quite what it is. Honourable, yes, but it’s an inner sense of rightness, a gut feeling about people. Not impressed by power.
He wonders what DI Lestrade is thinking about the man he’s come to see without an appointment.
“You’re here about my brother,” he says, sparing him the explanation.
Lestrade nods. “I’ve seen him around, talked with him a few times. Last night—”
“Thank you.” Mycroft isn’t good at thanking people, not when thanks seem so inadequate. “I am truly grateful that you found him before… well, before more serious harm was done.”
Lestrade looks at him directly, openly, and Mycroft imagines this is the face he uses when interrogating a suspect. “You don’t know what to do with him.”
Surprised at the deduction, he responds. “I have taken some measures. It seems what I’ve attempted has not been successful, but I have the means to try other things.”
“What about your parents?”
“Our parents are not able to fully grasp the problem. Sherlock has always been… difficult. They have never understood him, and blame themselves for his problems. The matter elicits a great deal of emotion, and I have elected to be my brother’s keeper, so to speak, in order to spare them that ordeal.”
“Mr Holmes, I can’t claim to know Sherlock as well as you do, but I know a thing or two about addiction. The measures you’ve taken… well, nothing’s going to work until he’s ready to work on himself.”
Mycroft smiles grimly. “Mr Lestrade, I’m sure you’ve met many junkies in your line of work, but I’m equally sure you’ve never met anyone like Sherlock.”
“True enough. First time I met him he was high, stumbled on a crime scene I was investigating. It was like he had x-ray vision or something. Described exactly what had happened, pointed out where the murder weapon was, even suggested that the murderer was left-handed and had a limp. I didn’t dismiss him as a nut job because I could see it all— he was right.”
Mycroft’s smile is more genuine now. “My brother is several levels above any junkie you’ve met, Mr Lestrade. His problem is one he could solve, if he turned his mind to it. He resents my interference, however, and resists the measures I’ve taken. I will not give up on him, however long it takes. You need not feel responsible for Sherlock.”
Lestrade stares down at his hands, which he holds clenched in his lap. When he speaks, his voice has lost something of the policeman.
“Forgive me for speaking so freely. I know what it’s like to talk to someone on the phone, to say see you later, knowing that it might be the last thing you say to them. Guarding your words so you won’t sound bitter, won’t drive him away, when all you want to do is shake some sense into him, scream at him, lock him up until you can make him right.”
“Ah.” Mycroft leans back. “Your own brother.”
Lestrade smiles. “Five years younger than me, baby of the family. Our parents worked hard, and we did all right. All of us but Andy. I don’t know why. He was bright enough to do anything, be anything. We loved him, but something made him feel unloveable. It was never enough.”
“I’m sorry.” There really isn’t anything else to say when someone admits something so personal. This conversation is far more personal than he wants it to be.
“I always take an interest in the addicts because of Andy. Maybe I can figure it out, save someone when I couldn’t do anything for him. Last time Sherlock and I spoke, I made him an offer, said I’d be willing to talk to him about homicide cases I’m working on, if he stays clean. He seemed to like that idea, said he might be a ‘consulting detective,’ the one I come to when I’m in over my head.”
Mycroft shakes his head slightly. “Sherlock is meant for something greater than police work, Mr Lestrade. I’m afraid you’ll find he quickly loses interest.”
“I don’t know, Mr Holmes. What police do matters. I’m not suggesting that Sherlock would make a good policeman. I saw a spark in him, though, one I hadn’t seen the other times we talked. Even if solving a crime is just an intellectual exercise to him, it might be the thing that keeps him from needing his next dose. That’s how you solve addiction, I think, one dose at a time.”
“That’s very simplistic.” Mycroft frowns now. “Believe me, I understand what rehab entails. And I know the success rates of most programmes.”
“True, there are a lot of failures. I don’t mean to suggest that I can cure him. You can’t cure an addict. But you can give them something else, something that absorbs them, even for a while. And maybe over time they’ll learn that there is something they want more than drugs.”
“You’re asking my permission,” Mycroft says. “I give it to you with conditions. First, you must not let him in simply to let him down. If you invite him to solve things, you will need to keep giving him things to solve. I’m not sure that’s feasible, but it is my condition. Do not treat him like a hobby.”
“I wouldn’t.” Lestrade looks at him solemnly. “I’m doing this because I think I can help him, and it would go against everything in me not to try.”
“I have another condition. You must check in with me and let me know if you see him slipping. Sherlock doesn’t see me often, doesn’t answer my calls. As I’ve said, he resents my efforts to help. You will recognise the signs. If he’s doing poorly, I want to know. I don’t care about confidences and trust between you and my brother. I must know if he is in danger.”
“I’m willing to do that.”
“Even if it involves lying to him?”
This gives the detective pause. “I want him to trust me, and lying to him would break that. I don’t want him to think I’m working for you. At the same time, I won’t pass along anything you say to me; our conversations will remain confidential.”
“In addition.” He sighs. “I am appalled that I must say this, but I would be remiss not to mention it. Do not use my brother. People have used him before, taken advantage of him. I’m not suggesting that you are the type of person who would do that. I don’t know you, Detective Inspector Lestrade. But if I ever learn that you have done such a thing—” He breaks off, giving him the humourless smile that explains more than words. “It would be very unfortunate.”
“Of course.” Lestrade looks sad. “I would never.”
“Very well, then.”
He extends his hand. Lestrade takes it, gives it one shake, and nods. “You’ll be hearing from me.”
---
Shoutouts to everyone who is writing these! I'm so impressed 💕 Please keep writing your mini-epics, fluffy/angsty one-shots, hilarious AUs, limericks, and whatever else your brain comes up with. Please do tag people, and if you're posting on AO3 as well, consider adding to my MayPrompts2024 Collection. Much love to you all 💕
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
U.S. President Donald Trump is right to say Russia’s war against Ukraine “never should have started”—but the blame for it lies entirely with Russian President Vladimir Putin, not with Ukraine and its president, Volodymyr Zelensky.
At his Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida on Tuesday, Trump went on to say: “You have leadership now that’s allowed a war to go on that should have never even happened.” On Wednesday, Trump went further, calling Zelensky a “dictator” who took money from the United States to go to war.
This is not a war that Ukraine sought but is the result of having been invaded by Russia. Ukraine is merely trying to defend itself, rightfully regain territory seized by Russia, and ensure this doesn’t happen again. And the dictator in this war is Putin, who has been in power for two and a half decades, not Zelensky, who was democratically elected president of his country in 2019.
As U.S. and Russian officials conclude their initial talks in Saudi Arabia on the war, it’s important that Americans understand that it is Putin who bears responsibility for the massive loss of life among Ukrainians and Russians. Putin is guilty of war crimes and genocide against the Ukrainian people. Putin is the one who could stop this war at any moment.
Pressure to end the war, in other words, needs to be applied on Russia, not Ukraine.
For decades after the breakup of the Soviet Union, Russia interfered in the internal affairs of Ukraine, despite various agreements recognizing the country’s independence and territorial integrity. But the pivotal moment came in the fall of 2013, when Putin pressured then-Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych, an openly pro-Russia figure, against signing agreements with the European Union to which he had already previously agreed.
NATO enlargement, it cannot be emphasized enough, wasn’t an issue at all when Putin decided to invade Ukraine the first time in February 2014. (In earlier remarks, Trump said the Russians would not “allow” for Ukraine’s NATO accession.)
In 2010, the first year of Yanukovych’s presidency, Ukraine became a nonaligned state under legislation that ended pursuit of NATO membership as a foreign-policy goal. The issue in 2013 involved the EU and Yanukovych suspending preparations to more closely integrate with it. That sparked what became known as the Revolution of Dignity that saw Yanukovych flee to Russia—he was not overthrown—in February 2014.
Ukrainians by the hundreds of thousands protested against Russian interference and a leader who clearly sided with Moscow. It was the second time in a decade that Ukrainians turned out in massive numbers. The first time, in 2004, was against Yanukovych’s attempt to steal a presidential election.
Watching the revolution unfold undoubtedly unnerved Putin, who couldn’t stomach the idea that Ukrainians could turn out in the streets and effect change. In light of sizable protests in Moscow in 2011 and 2012, Putin worried that Ukrainians might provide a dangerous impetus to Russians to revive their own demonstrations against the Kremlin.
To try to stem the tide, Putin sent “little green men”—the term used to describe his invading force—into Crimea, the peninsula part of Ukraine, and arranged for a rigged referendum to argue that Crimea wanted to become part of Russia. Putin and his pliant parliament illegally annexed Crimea in March 2014.
Feeling emboldened from that takeover, which Ukrainians didn’t resist militarily, Putin then tried his luck in Ukraine’s Donbas region. There, Ukraine did put up a fight, and thousands of Ukrainians were killed as a result of Putin’s initial invasion starting 11 years ago. Ukraine was then forced to sign two cease-fire agreements in Minsk that Russia never had any intention of respecting, ultimately leading to the full-scale invasion in February 2022. This history—and the fact that Putin has never viewed Ukraine as a legitimate, independent state, a view he most clearly articulated in a treatise in July 2021 titled “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians”—is vital for understanding the last three years amid the talks in Saudi Arabia.
Following Zelensky’s election victory in 2019 with 73 percent of the vote, he sought to advance NATO membership for Ukraine. As a sovereign, independent state, Ukraine has every right to determine its own foreign policy and orientation. The first Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2014 increased support among Ukrainians for joining NATO with its Article 5 collective security guarantee. Zelensky pursued closer ties with the West because the people who elected him president wanted to integrate more with NATO and the EU.
Yet Zelensky met strong resistance from some NATO member states, especially Germany and the United States, and was making little progress. It was widely known that NATO lacked consensus for admitting Ukraine into the alliance when Putin launched his full-scale invasion in 2022. Once again, NATO enlargement wasn’t an issue when Putin decided to attack Ukraine. His intent was always to create a vassal state similar to neighboring Belarus while eradicating Ukrainian identity and extinguishing its statehood.
Contrary to Kremlin propaganda occasionally parroted by Westerners, there are few wars in which responsibility is as clear-cut as this one: Ukraine is the victim of Russia’s unjustified, unprovoked, and barbaric invasion. Putin, therefore, must not be rewarded for what he has done to Ukraine. Nor must Ukraine be excluded from negotiations that involve its fate. Nothing about Ukraine without Ukraine.
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stumbling in Sync (A Silvaze Fanfic)
This was not in the spirit of what had been agreed. Blaze the cat, guardian of the Sol Emeralds and ruler of islands, was stood at the heart of a very empty great hall that should have been even emptier. Three months ago, when the feline had requested time be scheduled for dance practice in advance of the Winter Ball, she had thought of the day as one to look forward to. It would be an opportunity to spend some time with her partner, free from the shackles of duty that ensnared them both, away from prying eyes and potential interference. Instead, today seemed to embody restraint, eavesdropping, and hinderance.
Rather than a record player or a tape deck or even something more advanced, Gardon had elected to involve the most archaic and dramatic of sources for the effort's music... a live band. No fewer than twenty koalas, dressed in finery and wielding a variety of instruments, had been staring at the guardian ever since she'd arrived. They were positioned above her, looking down wordlessly from a stage as they tuned their instruments. The conductor had explained that Gardon's suggestion that their practice coincide with her own to make the most efficient use of the space; but Blaze knew that wasn't truly the reason. They were spies, plain and simple, and their incredulous stares were making the feline all the more conscious of her chosen garb.
Formal attire and Blaze had a tumultuous relationship. While her usual guardian outfit was professional enough for most engagements, there was a certain expectation to dress differently with regards to scheduled appearances. For the princess, donning a dress was an expectation she had chafed under but generally acquiesced to. With this being a rehearsal for the true outing, she'd thought it wise to get used to her outfit as well- a flowing red dress with a slit that marched much of the way up her right thigh.
While the choice had initially seemed wise, the slit allowing for freedom of movement, under the beady gaze of no fewer than twenty elderly koala, the princess was feeling rather exposed. She knew the opening wasn't truly revealing, she'd checked and rechecked enough in the mirror to confirm such, but now every shift and step would push a fresh needle of doubt into her mind regarding the outfit's construction. Even the skirt's length, perhaps being a size too large, should have been enough to put her mind at ease- but of course, it wasn't.
She'd already noticed her subconscious choice to keep her elbows folded and arms at her side; the dress's straps being off the shoulder meant a further level of exhibition she was not used to. Of course the dress wouldn't malfunction and fall away, she'd spun in her room and tested its practicality... but being perceived always spiked her temperature, and she was the sole point of observation. This orchestra would report the slightest hint of impropriety back to Gardon- any imagined whiff of scandal would reach his furry ears before the day's end. This all reflected poorly on Blaze to... it looked like she had set her partner up to fail, any graze of exposed shoulder or hands upon thighs would surely result in him being chastised. The psychic wasn't a subtle fellow, he'd surely make mistakes without even realising. Having him act as her escort for the ball was already treading on toes and now he was late to their rehearsal! That would surely be the first strike against him, what was that-
The doors to the hall burst open as a figure stumbled his way inside. His white fur was visible but not so thoroughly as usual- a blue waistcoat, sealed all the way up to his neck with golden bands, was seeing to that. Upon his head, struggling to stay put amongst his quills, a blue military cap had been positioned. As he took a step Blaze's attention darted down to the brown dress shoes he'd surely been force into, before her gaze was hoisted up by the sound of tearing. The hedgehog's face twisted the confusion, he reached back behind himself and turned to feel. One of his spines had cleanly burst through the back of his coat.
As their eyes met across the hall, a wry smile crept its way onto Blaze's face but she smothered it with a hand, "Please start us with something slow," She requested through her fingers.
Her heels did not click as she crossed the floor- she'd exchanged her usual heels for a set of black dance shoes which provided little additional height. With each step she felt a brief gust brush by her right calf, the exposure set her fur to prickle. She could hear the orchestra adjusting in their seats and the conductor tapping her baton to rouse attention. It was only as she arrived before him that the difference in their heights was made obvious- had they really given him shoes with lifts? He would have to lead...
"Sorry I'm late," Silver grumbled, "Gardon says they'll have a better version of this for the day."
"It's alright," Blaze sighed, "I'm just glad that you're here."
The opening bars sounded; Blaze instinctively extended her right arm and reached around his shoulder with her left, only to meet with torn fabric and his spine. As those initial notes shifted into that of a proper waltz no hand found the small of her back, nor did it grasp her own. The hedgehog was looking down at her, more than a little befuddled. It was was only as they exchanged glances, the hedgehog finally awkwardly grasping her hand and haphazardly matching her hold on his shoulder, that Blaze realised what should have been an obvious truth.
Silver surely hadn't spent much time dancing- he'd been spread thin across time and space, fighting all manner of threats! Despite this being their first time dancing together, they had an audience to impress. Those koalas, in various configurations, had been present at prior royal balls for decades- they knew what a professional waltz was supposed to look like. Failure here would lead to Gardon recommending she switch to a more appropriate suitor. Silver would be atomised beneath their critical gaze, it was a certainty and it was entirely her fault.
"Walk with me," The cat harshly hissed, hoping the band wouldn't hear.
With a single step the cat felt herself stubble, she'd moved too quickly and caught on her dress! She heard a tear as she reflexively clung to her partner, fingers buried deep in his waistcoat's gash. He'd caught her of course, Silver had reflex enough to do that, but his fingers must have been burning- her temperature had skyrocketed. She could feel his palm on her exposed shoulder; somehow the small of her back or the edge of her hip now felt like a less intimate position!
Gritting her teeth and lowering her gaze, the cat marched on with her stare locked on her feet. She'd been so focused on the slit and shoulders, the dress being one size too large had almost completely slipped her mind! She had to step far, that was the only way to counteract the length of the dress. She was already leading, that wasn't a massive change to make; she could do this, she just had to keep calm.
They weren't even spinning, just walking as they clung to each other's body, not daring to attempt a more dramatic move. A sigh slipped between Blaze's lips as she tried to cool off, daring to glance up to Silver as they stumbled around the hall. Immediately her eyes met with his, gleaming with a combination of confusion and concern. He was holding on much too tight, was he still worried about her falling? What was-
The centre of Blaze's sole met with something too lumpy to be the floor, and too dense to be excess dress fabric. She heard a breath sucked in much too quickly and felt a flinch rock through her partner as his eyes widened. The cat had only looked away from her feet for a moment, and she'd already stood on his foot. She hadn't stepped on a dance partner's foot since she was a child taking lessons...
"Sorry," The cat quickly stepped off of him.
"It's okay," He winced as they slowed to a halt, "Do you want me to try leading?"
Blaze blinked, she could immediately tell that the hedgehog was serious. Had he somehow found time to practice? She supposed he'd had three months to prepare for this date, but in that period he had prevented no fewer than six apocalypses. When would he have found the time to even consider today? Had he travelled outside of usual time periods specifically to practice?
"You can try," The cat grimaced at the surprise in her tone, "Move your right hand to my back and take over."
Her first realisation she'd made a mistake was the sheen of psychic light that coated both his body and hers. In the blink of an eye they went from barely stepping to spinning through the air, orbiting each other arm in arm. Blaze looked to the ground just in time for them to have risen to a high point and begin a descent! The cat bent her knees as they gently, but quickly, met with the ground only to rise over and over again- the orchestra hadn't stopped playing despite the sudden change in their dancing style!
That was a point, was he even listening to the music? Had he ever danced at all?! She would be laughing if they weren't beneath the mortifying gaze of processionally trained musicians- this was anything but a waltz. He wasn't remotely following the time signature!
Midair, Blaze felt his hands release her- the feline's frame drifted back from his before coming together once more. The movement was too sudden, she didn't manage to match his hold before his psychic power separated them again! This time he lowered to the ground while she stayed at the same height- all of a sudden she was lying flat in the air and his hand was at her midsection, all the while the two of them were spinning!
The cat felt herself released, like an arrow suddenly shot straight- only to perform most of a loop and land on her feet. Her head was spinning, the guardian felt herself step and slip only to then glide over the ground, flowing frictionlessly back into his hold. She tried to grab onto him only to fall short, crashing into his chest with arms half folded. To his credit, he rolled with it- unfortunately that meant more psychic puppeteering. Blaze's frame spun out of his, practically pirouetting. With a powerful stomp she brought herself to a halt, dispelling the psychic cloaking.
This wasn't like them, why couldn't they do this? They'd fought in sync for years, anticipating the other's movements wordlessly, but now they were stumbling over each other like drunks on their way back from a very productive evening at the tavern. It wasn't just his lack of experienced, she was failing too. With each mistimed grasp and step they were proving Gardon right.
"Are you okay?" She caught Silver's eye and saw his concern, "Was that wrong?"
Frustration reigned as her stare fell to her feet and her toes curled- despite them coming to a halt, the music hadn't stopped. Whether they'd danced for mere moments or minutes Blaze had no idea, the waltz was too repetitive! Was the orchestra expecting to play the same song until she commanded them to change?! Well, if they wanted an order she'd give them one.
"Leave us!" Blaze ordered, bringing the music to an abrupt halt, "I need some time to speak with Silver. We will recall you when we are good and ready."
The cat could sense the panic in the room, radiating from the musicians and her partner alike. Three dozen koalas hurried their way down from the stage, most leaving their instruments behind. It must have taken them about a minute to cross the hall, but it felt like hours- none of them looked back, but Blaze could still feel their judgement boring into her. It was only as the door finally closed that her eyes arrived on him again.
"I thought you were going easy on me," He quickly informed her, "I wanted to show you I could do something more complex..."
A sigh slipped through her lips, "I wasn't going easy on you Silver. That's just how the dance is done," It wasn't his fault, she'd thrust the time traveller into the world of the royal court- of course he'd reacted strangely.
"I was trying to impress you," He admitted, closing the distance between them, "I didn't have a lot of time to practice, but I tried to come up with a routine..."
Blaze blinked, "A routine?"
"Well, I know you've done ballet before," Silver explained, "I thought we'd be doing that kind of dancing? You know, more of a performance? Rather than whatever that slow wandering this is."
"What you did certainly wasn't ballet," That sounded too negative, "Well, it was closer to ballet than waltzing I suppose..." That wasn't much better.
The hedgehog's lips pursed for a moment, "What actually is waltzing?"
"It's a type of slow dancing, it's common at formal events," She answered, quickly turning the conversation back to her confusion, "Before you came up with," Blaze tried to sound positive, "Your routine," She failed, "Had you ever danced before?"
He seemed to seriously contemplate for a moment, "I don't think so? I didn't really hear any music before I arrived in the past, I barely knew what it was," He tugged at his chest fur, "I guess I would have seen people dance for the first time around then too? They always seemed to be doing it to impress a crowd... or at least another person? That or to make money."
His answer raised more questions, "Why do you think it is that I do ballet?"
"Oh, well, I thought that was more an exercise thing, right? To improve speed and balance?" He responded, "But when I considered it I understood that it's a type of dancing rather than just exercise, so I figured reading some books on it would be smart? I tried to copy some of the poses..."
Reflecting back on how he'd shifted her, his comparison to ballet dancing did make a little bit more sense. From raising her above his head to the spins and even separating only to reunite in sequence. The showmanship involved was perhaps closer to ice skating or even circus acrobatics- exciting and skilful, though not befitting the royal ballroom.
None of this was really Silver's fault- if they weren't being watched so heavily none of this would have happened. She'd have laughed as he'd taken their dance too far and gently brought him back to normalcy. This should have been something fun to laugh about, rather than worrying the cat about days to come.
"I practiced using a mannequin," He broke the silence and crashed her train of thought.
A wiry smile creased her lips, "What?"
"In a ruined future- I found one in a mall... well there were a few of them in a collapsed mall, I sort of created an audience," He said, plainly embarrassed, "When I saw there were others, it felt like leaving them out would be wrong... I practiced in a big stadium that was mostly still standing, I put them in the stands."
"That's horrifying," She felt her smile grow as her tail swished, "But I'd be lying if I said it didn't sound fun."
"I know we're going to have a lot of eyes on us at the ball," His hand tugged at his chest fur, "I thought it'd make sense to practice under the same sort of circumstance."
Blaze could so easily envision it, a faceless crowd watching as he practiced and practiced alone on a world that had undoubtedly lay lifeless for almost two hundred years. Despite there being no other lifeforms, he'd somehow found a way to gather the pressure of attention. Truth be told, his recreation was rather close to the reality Blaze had come to expect- she would encounter countless faceless financiers and bureaucrats, many of whom would look upon her appearance as if she were some kind of spectacle to behold rather than their nation's guardian. Those dummies were equally mindless.
Then again, who was she to think anyone mindless? Given their current situation, the two of them were worse than ignorant- they were too far gone, lost in their own minds and perspectives. They had to get back to basics.
"We're both trying to do very different things. You rehearsed a routine alone and without music, I'm relying on you understanding dance in a way that is impossible given where you were born... and I'm also greatly overthinking this dress I'm wearing," She summarised, "We need to work together, like we always do. Get on the same page."
Even without the crowd of onlookers, they were still out of sync. That pressure was still lingering, creating an undeniable barrier between them. They needed a reset, some kind of catalyst that would return them to normalcy.
"I think the dress is nice?" He offered as a first step.
"Thank you," She sighed, "But I don't think it properly fits me," A thought entered the cat's mind, a way to reset their mental imbalance, "Much like that uniform doesn't fit you."
With a single swipe of her claws, his garb was split down its front and rendered into an open vest. Immediately fur burst free as golden clasps rained to the ground. Despite the surprise on his face, the psychic's posture was immediately more comfortable.
She knocked the hat from his head to fly across the room, "Blaze, what are you-
"Gardon said they'll have a better version for the day, did he not?" Blaze questioned, "Besides, it's already ruined. I'm simply rendering material that might be used," She justified, "Shoes off. Now."
Rather than bend down, the hedgehog began to hover. Crossing his legs midair, he tugged until the left clog flew free and the right soon followed it. While he was busy with that, Blaze hiked the straps of her dress up her shoulders- they almost certainly wouldn't stay there, but their new position felt much more comfortable. With another cleave of her claws the fabric of her gown was torn- the lower quarter was removed, allowing the cat to take full advantage of the freedom the slit had hinted toward. As he returned to the ground she assessed him once more- finding that without his shoes they were closer to their regular height difference. He was unkempt and still just a little confused- exactly how she liked him.
"Much better," She nodded, raising her hands again, "Shall we resume?"
The hedgehog's arm rounded her waist as their hands clasped, "But we don't have any music?"
"Neither did you when you rehearsed," She reminded him aligning their bodies, "Hum with me."
Blaze took the lead in sound and body, replicating the music the orchestra had played in her own tone. She felt the weight of Silver's hand on the small of her back as he followed her steps, pulling her close enough that their legs were almost, but not quite, entangled. Soon, he was humming in time with her. As they walked the feline gently introduced a soft sway to the effort, taking one step backward toward the centre of the hall only to then walk him back out toward the edge.
"Keep humming," She instructed, "I'll walk you through some more steps."
His hands were warm, the tightness of his grip signalled to Blaze his intensity- he did not want to fail again, he plainly felt that he had was responsible for their missteps in someway when that burden was truly mutual. Even in these simple steps, the cat could already feel herself matching him more thoroughly. Yes, this already so much better.
"Raise our handhold and I'll spin under it," She instructed.
She swayed beneath his raised hand with ease, though had to somewhat twirl herself on his fingers. By the third attempt though he seemed to fully understand the motion, delicately spinning her to arrive exactly within his grasp without tripping or standing on his toes. Soon they were dancing as if it was second nature, despite her request she barely had to say a word to him.
"Now we shall turn as we waltz," She explained, feeling confident, "Follow my lead."
There was a moment of confusion, she pressed her shoulder against his chest and guided him into the motion. Soon that contact was not required but the cat chose to maintain it; feeling the recreation of the song vibrate through the hedgehog as they paced. She lost track of time, comfortable in the knowledge that this was far more like the afternoon she'd imagined spending with him than what'd come before.
Eventually, Blaze slipped out of his grasp, allowing her hands to drift down to her torn skirt, and gave a deep curtsy as their humming came to a close. The imagined sound of an ovation played in the cat's mind, the same polite sort that always followed a song's conclusion during the Winter Ball. Despite its normalcy, to hear such applause with Silver by her side would feel much more important- the guardian was certain of it.
"That is how you waltz," She informed him, looking up to meet his still overly contemplative gaze, "Thank you for the dance, Silver."
"Oh, um, thank you too, Blaze," He quickly matched her curtsy before asking, "Can we practice some more?" His brain seemed to be moving much too fast, "I mean, before we invite the band back in."
"Feel free to ask whatever you want, Silver," She instructed him, "I can tell something is on your mind."
"It's just..." He seemed to struggle do the right words, "This feels a bit simple, doesn't it? Sort of plain."
"I believe that waltzes are intentionally easy to learn but hard to master, there are certain intricacies beyond what I have taught you," Blaze explained, "How would you propose we change the dance?"
"Well, I practiced a lot with my powers," He reminded her, "I'm not saying we do the flips or flying tricks but we could make a couple of changes and do some things different, right?"
"I would try to limit it to small flourishes," She suggested, "I'd also recommend timing the efforts with a change in the music- like is done in more intricate dances."
Silver's eyes lit up, "Can we test some?"
"Of course," She smiled, taking his hand once more.
As they resumed their humming she allowed him to lead, feeling his tug at her waist. They managed to pick up from where they'd left off, slipping back into the dance without a single stutter or misstep. As the two of them got back into the swing of things Blaze watched as cyan light leached from the symbols in his palms to gently cloak their frames.
His eyes met hers and his brows furrowed as if to ask, "Is this okay?"
She responded with a smile, to tell him that, "Of course."
This time, as he pirouetted her beneath his arm, the two of them gently rose to hover above the ground- just as she had anticipated. The dance continued at that higher elevation, their steps against his psychic light rather than the floor. Gently, each time she twirled beneath his hand, they would rise and fall with suitable grace.
Soon that experimentation expanded to include other figures surrounding them, conjured from his will to fill the hall. It took the feline a moment to realise they weren't simply other dancers- but exact copies of them, a steps ahead in the sequence. It wasn't that they were dancing in time with the ghostly figures, rather they were becoming them. Each time they matched their pose and stepped into their space, they would burst into shining psychic glitter that drifted to the ground.
Blaze quickly realised this wasn't just a stylistic choice, not only was he marking their steps ahead but planning their poses ahead of time. With that intention plain the feline felt him truly take control of the dance, manoeuvring their poses to be slightly more dynamic as they went. Eventually, his eyes no longer lingered on those conjured figures but locked with her own as he finally returned to his bolder self.
Once again Blaze lost track of time, this wasn't just like the afternoon she'd imagined- it was exactly it. Here they were free to express their bond without the risk of generating rumours or being seen as uncouth. With this practice in her heart, regardless of what came next, she would be ready for the ball. When the final set of doppelgangers disintegrated their humming came to synchronised conclusion.
"Thank you for the dance," This time he curtsied first, "How did I do?"
"Thank you for the dance," She matched him, "That was excellent, Silver."
He beamed at her with a light in his eyes that Blaze could barely look upon- he looked upon her with a warmth she'd felt from no one else. Despite how things had started, their practice would now be considered a success. Their technical skill wouldn't win any awards, their efforts would likely still be reported back to Gardon as a failure- but it would be one that she could confidently argue for.
"Shall we get reacquainted with the orchestra?" The cat asked, as they slowed to a stop.
"I'm ready if you are," He quickly answered, "But are you sure you want them to see us like this?"
"Your coat was already torn," Blaze justified in an overly proper tone, "Besides, a princess should have the freedom to style her own dress."
Her eyes met his; she could not hold her seriousness. As a smile cracked across her lips, she leaned much too close into him. Her clavicle met with his, she tiptoed to rest her chin upon his shoulder. Temptation became overwhelming as she felt Silver's arms cross behind her to complete a hug.
"Thank you for doing this," Her lips feathered against his pulse, grazing only briefly before she stepped back.
In the aftermath his face was red, either the cat was far warmer than she anticipated or she hadn't been as subtle as she thought. His inability to meet her eye suggested that the latter was much more likely. Despite that truth, her smirk did not waver.
"Well, I think it's time to call them back in," She said, as nonchalantly as possible.
"You can come back in, we're ready now!" The hedgehog yelled, turning his beet red face toward the hall's doors and tugging them open with a wave.
Revealed on the other side were three members of the orchestra, plainly attempting to eavesdrop with their fluffy ears to the door. Rather than make any excuses, they quickly set about gathering their fellow musicians in a complete panic. Soon the colony had regathered.
As a cacophony of koala feet once again filled the hall, her eyes lingered on the hedgehog's still smiling face. If Silver had led a more charmed life he could have made for some incredible dancer, incorporating his powers to glide across the ground as if on ice and carry his partner with ease. In such a reality however, he would not be the same Silver that she'd sought out to accompany her. It was better to make fools of themselves and have fun than be stilted and professional with a stranger. If that wasn't why she'd asked him to accompany her, then what other possible reason was there?
Well, besides the obvious.
"Feel free to play whatever you like," Blaze recommended to the conductor as she passed, "We're ready for anything."
Though the koala looked befuddled, once her orchestra were back in position, she quickly turned to lead the music once more. A familiar song played, another waltz- though slightly faster than that which they had previously failed at. The feline had surely danced to it over a dozen times, holding the hand of a different person each time yet performing the same tiresome steps. That would not be the case this time- not as long as she stood in Silver's grasp and she held him.
They moved to the melody of their own music and didn't follow some standard time signature. The hedgehog may not have had rhythm, but the feline knew that he could match her every move. While Blaze was trained in dance, she knew her partner better than any simple series of steps. They could do this, they could do anything together!
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Since Black People share zero blame about what happened in the election and why Trump won again; let’s do a master post on who’s to blame as to why Trump won again:
1. White people. They are never to be trusted to actually pay attention to shit so they will believe anything anyone tells them to. If someone is promising to get rid of anyone who’s not white; white people will vote for that candidate. White men vote for violence and white women vote in hopes to be like white men. I mean, Roe V Wade SHOULDVE been important …until I remember those stories from nurses at Planned Parenthood mentioning how obnoxious white women are about the service. White people who are actual allies are very rare and they know if they admitted to being hateful; they’d be all alone watching Fox News.
2. The mainstream media. MSNBC, CNN, Bill Maher, John Oliver, Jon Stewart ( the biggest douchefuck), Chris Hayes, Anderson Cooper, Joy Reid, among others (who I can’t name because I refuse to hate-watch their media). They spent all their fucking time bashing Biden and the Democrats. They let the lunatic leftists have a platform and they treated Trump like he’s no threat until it was way too late. They figured it’s better for their audiences to not take what Trump did in 2016-2020 seriously and just be mean towards Biden, Harris and the Democrats who actually work towards better.
Any one of these jokers could’ve taken an actual stand and report actual news about Biden but once Covid got calmer thanks to Biden and the White House became boring again because the Biden Administration was busy ACTUALLY WORKING; it just wasn’t enough for them. Once they knew leftists also found another cause they could hijack for themselves to “ stick it to the Dems” they also let these fuckers on their show to help spread more lies about the Democrats. But nope! They latched onto the “ Free Palestine” movement and sold that shit, knowing full fuckin well that it’s not America’s problem about the conflict and Biden and Harris were making sure to get a two state solution.
Their buyers remorse media is not cute and they are only doing this because they know they are a major reason why Trump won again. They’re also scared of retaliation so they’re going to act like they “ regretted it” and that Biden “ wasn’t so bad” while not ever really apologetic but their audiences will eat it up.
3. Nonblack PoC. Latino, Asian/ Pacific Islander community ( I’m not even shocked. I’m apart of this group and they love antiblackness), Arab Americans ( Rashida Tlaib is antiblack but because leftists are stupid; they couldn’t see something so obvious). The desperation to be accepted by white people and also the xenophobia in all these communities had them voting for Trump. They have the “ I’m one of the good ones” mentality and well they’re about to see that antiblackness and xenophobia has screwed themselves .
4. Social media websites letting misinformation spread, and I include tumblr since yet again this happened. I appreciate that X has a community note and people tried to fight it but it was just way too great. Too many bots were getting through. Facebook, tumblr, Twitter, TikTok, likely Instagram as well. And once the elections are over; it’s like they treat the election interference shit like it didn’t happen.
5. Leftists. As usual, since they’re bored and rich, they do this protesting “ the establishment” every four years because they don’t want to pay their fair share of taxes. They went right along with the Free Palestine bullshit because it has worked for them before. Susan Sarandon , remember her? She helped fuck over 2000 as well as 2016 and let the GOP into the White House. Since leftist includes being racist/antiblack and antisemitic; it’s a great way to get more stupid white people to not vote or “ protest vote” and help the GOP win. Now that they have; we won’t see the likes of Jill Stein or any third party candidates. They are only around to help fuck over the Democrats and yet this lesson seems to have to keep being repeated and holy fuck it’s fucking annoying.
6. Nancy Pelosi. I know I haven’t said much but she wanted Biden to step down. She wanted an open Democratic primary to get a new candidate and to go right past Kamala Harris. Her bullshit has been known for awhile, especially if you live in the Bay Area. People forgot because of Covid and because of the whack job who attacked her husband. But remember; she’s also Gavin Newsom’s aunt and well…do with that what you will. If Democrats have any chance at getting their base back; Pelosi needs to step aside and let Hakeem Jeffries be Speaker. Pelosi knew damn well if it was not Kamala Harris; Black People would not show up but she is a white woman first so of course she did what she did. And for her to act like Biden was too old when she’s in the same age group was even more moronic since he won against Trump the first fuckin time
7. antisemitism also played a huge part. Remember Second Gentleman Doug Emhoff is Jewish so if it wasn’t antiblackness; antisemitism was also at play here. Even though people won’t say it just like they won’t say their true reasons why they didn’t vote for Kamala Harris. Jewish People were the only allies along with the lgbt community who overwhelmingly voted for Kamala Harris. Every group has knuckleheads but the knuckleheads were extremely smaller than everyone else.
8. The Squad members. AOC, Rashida Tlaib, Jayapal, Cori Bush, Summer Lee and Jamaal Bowman. It’s time to get rid of these idiot DSA morons and the fact that Cori Bush and Jamaal Bowman are out is awesome. They always wanted to fuck over the Democrats because they want to appear like they’re activists while they really just sell “ someday it’ll be better” while making $176K a year. They need the GOP in charge so they can coast in the House. Too bad leftists don’t get that.
So now that we all know who’s to blame; maybe now take some fuckin responsibility and hope to fucking heaven that Trump won’t have SCOTUS overturn shit but who are we kidding? With Elon Musk around; a lot of things will be rolled back but let’s see if people learn anything from it. Oh who am I kidding ?
Oh and thinking of moving to Canada? Lmao Justin Trudeau already went “ AHT AHT”. Best believe other countries are already following suit so y’all are going to be owning up to who you voted for lol.
But ya know, Biden was “ too old” and Harris was “ too joyful”
#us politics#us elections#kamala harris#mainstream media#cnn news#the daily show#joy reid#last week tonight#john oliver#jon stewart#anderson cooper#Donald Trump#y’all got the man ya wanted#it’s above me and Black People now#doug emhoff
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
okay here’s the thing— i don’t think hilbert actually killed fourier and rhea, and here’s why:
yes. he did kill lambert and hui. we know that it’s because command insisted that he continue the human decima trials after fisher’s death, and since neither lambert nor hui had received the physical and immune system training that he had gone through, their bodies weren’t able to fight it off. but fourier… she didn’t die from the virus. she disappeared. the day after she was able to figure out how to wire the vx3 into lovelace’s escape shuttle. they never found a body. and rhea? she was deactivated only three hours before running the final calculations. and lovelace was right, these were definitely not coincidences. someone didn’t want them to leave the hephaestus. but why would hilbert want them to stay? there was no reason he needed lovelace alive. the door didn’t exist during that mission, and so hilbert had no reason to believe that command wouldn’t simply provide him with more subjects after this one was met with failure. hilbert himself wanted to get off the station and go home! he says so in episode thirty-one, where he admitted to contacting command fifty days before she left and suggesting that they terminate the mission! there was no logical reason for hilbert to resort to murdering in cold blood in order to keep lovelace on that station.
but.
there is someone else that would resort to such an extreme just to keep the hephaestus crew from returning to earth. someone who, several years later, was able to bend the laws of time and space to their will by creating a loop of an entire day just to ensure something would keep them in the same place.
“doug, are you seriously suggesting that the aliens were miraculously able to remove two entire people from existence without a trace?” you bet your ass i am.
here’s the thing: these guys are able to do pretty much anything they want. they’ve created human duplicates, they’ve created time loops, they use a god damn wormhole to transport humans to a seemingly entirely different plane of existence. if someone were to figure out a way to do something they didn’t like, they could very easily just,, make them disappear! just like lovelace assumed it was for hilbert, it was a last resort for them, and last resorts make people get sloppy!
another thing that makes me think hilbert wasn’t behind this in particular? lovelace stated in her logs that command stopped responding to their calls months before the day she died. just like cutter seemingly stopped responding to minkowski’s call for help four months before he arrived on the station. he was only able to actually make it to the hephaestus after eiffel and bob have their little heart to whatever-the-hell-bob-has. that also does not sound like a coincidence to me.
the aliens causing fourier and rhea to disappear also makes sense from a learning standpoint. after they made them go away, lovelace still managed to make it off the station, even if she died shortly after. having a little run-in with the indomitable human spirit like that would make sense as to why they would elect to simply have time repeat itself until someone did something stupid rather than only dwindling their recourses and letting them continue.
as we learned from kepler, this was far from the first time the aliens had done something to interfere with a hephaestus mission in order to attempt to start their process. why would they try so hard during zhang’s (and possibly several others’) mission and leave the crew entirely alone during lovelace’s, just to try and stir the pot again during minkowski’s run?
i dunno, it’s just a theory (a space theory), but i think it would make a lot more sense as to why lovelace’s mission went the way it did rather than simply “hilbert went crazy and pulled a wadsworth on everyone”
#wolf 359#wolf 359 spoilers#wolf359 spoilers#isabel lovelace#alexander hilbert#victoire fourier#kuan hui#sam lambert#mason fisher
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
Lore notes: A Blind Eye
(Reposted for the relisten, though with some minor changes)
Romana why are you introducing yourself as president here, they definitely don’t know what the high council of gallifrey is
Romana’s comment about having traveled millions of years to get there → could be a) an exaggeration or b) there’s a significant time difference between 20th century earth and present day gallifrey
‘This is about some minor intervention? Call the CIA I have better things to do with my time’ → how much of an intervention does it have to be before the president gets involved, also love the implication that the cia isn’t just there to sneak around and mess with the timelines in the ways that they see fit, but to deal with the stuff that the president doesn’t have the time for
‘There’s no such thing as anti time’ → love when she just lies, i mean i wouldn’t tell him the truth either, but still
Arkadian knows about Charley being important to gallifrey (to an extent) → rumors of happenings on gallifrey make it off of gallifrey
‘Nothing in the twelve galaxies’ → writers keep just throwing out lines like this, but i really wonder how the intergalactic community (or whatever) works in this universe
‘Narvin is already onto me’ → i can’t tell if this is a case of arkadian is import enough to warrant the coordinator of the cia being there himself, or if narvin is a control freak who doesn’t trust anyone else to do this (honestly could very believably be both)
‘This time zone is subject to the most stringent embargos’ → they’ve got off limit time zones, wonder if those only apply to time lords or do they affect other temporal powers/time travelers as well (i mean i can very much see the time lords enforcing this on everyone, but i also do wonder if it’s some sort of treaty system type thing with the other temporal powers, but then again, the time lords benign the time lords, they might just be like ‘these are the rules, deal with it’)
‘I am free to go wherever and whenever i choose without submitting a mountain of paperwork first’ → the president really can just kind of do whatever they want, unsurprising, you’re basically the elected/appointed god of time
‘Oh prydon save us’ → i’ve decided to start writing down gallifreyan swears (a lot of them do seem to follow the pattern of using the name of a historical figure as an expletive, similarly to someone saying jesus christ)
‘My head hurts’ → andred saying in reference to timeline talk that narvin and romana (as well as arkadian) don’t seem to be having any sort of problem with, if this really had been torvald i feel like he probably would have been able to deal with this, also i doubt chancellery guards have to deal much with timelines and interference and all that (also what was going to be my main point here, the line from invasion of time that implies that chancellery guards don’t actually have to be time lords, wonder if that has anything to do with andred’s reaction here, either because he isn’t a proper time lord, or he’s spent enough time around non time lords that his time sense has dulled a bit)
‘I’m a time lord, girl, i’m nobility’ → i mean we knew this, they just don’t often say it this directly
Commander rank in the cia
Presidential tardis → wonder if it’s a specific tardis that is used for every president (or at least like the most up to date model at the time or whatever) or the actual tardis of whoever is president that’s given extra protections or something since they’re president (like is this just some tardis, or is it romana’s tardis, does romana even have a tardis) (and by that i mean properly have a tardis, like one she is bonded to)
‘Stationed in this time zone’ → cia has agents put in important time zones (?)
Actions that would knowingly cause paradoxes can be sanctioned by the president, unsurprising
Type 70a → the way romana talks it seems that this is a fairly new model of tardis, so a type 70 is probably at least close to what the most advanced model is (interesting when compared to the books which have type 103 (or 105, can’t actually remember at the moment) tardises)
‘I know you regenerated not long ago’ → it’s been like six months, which I guess to a time lord isn’t long, but I wonder how long the effects of a regeneration can last before everything settles down
Pain stop → seems to rapidly block pain
Romana banned the mind probe (this might already be in the notes, but who knows)
‘I never lie’ → romana, we all know that’s not true
‘The regeneration had muddled my mind’ → traumatic regeneration can fuck you up (we already knew that, but whatever)
They have mind wipes to wipe memories that they don’t want people to remember
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Omg You guys tysssm for the support to My last post, it means the world to me.
Hello again, I started writing this post last night, I'm going to try to keep the timeline of how the events happened so that everything makes sense Because I couldn't finish writing it at the time, because of how everything ended. I have 2 and a half hours of sleep, it has been a complete emotional roller coaster of the worst kind for us as a country.
So, yesterday, July 28, 2024...
This day has been fucking Legendary in our story, By midday there were already 9 million votes in the voting centers with a majority in the polls in "La Unidad" (the opposition party)
Voting is still happening and it is currently 7:54 pm
People were in lines since last night, at 6 AM the centers were supposed to open. There was a part of these that did not open their doors at the scheduled time due to people from the Chavista party, acting as if they had some power to deny them the exercise of their right to vote, which led to the hilarious uprising of several voters in several states, coming to fucking knock down Gates to enter schools (the usual voting centers)
It also happened that they did not let the voters in but they did activate the machines and began to insert an unreal amount of identity cards to collect false votes for the government, WHEN THE CENTERS DIDN'T EVEN OPEN, CÑLM Which resulted in cases of violence in several states of the country, people went to exercise their right and did not allow themselves to be intimidated by anyone, to the point that CEBIM officials (a military body of the country) had to interfere with the anti-riot squads to remove the government sympathizers who started the problem by not opening and now they were getting their asses kicked by the voters who didn't sit still. The people were so firm that they didn't care that a military official was trying to protect the troublemakers at the voting centers, yet they insulted them and tried to beat them, Wich, ngl was heckin hilarous.
This was only at one of the voting centers
At seven, as i mentioned people were still voting, But many voting centers had already closed tables and were already counting votes, so theoretically the elections would close no later than 9 p.m. The broadcast of the national electoral council (CNE) had already started, never a broadcast was so damn long (the last time we had an opposition candidate this close, The results came out at 1:30 AM..., so that in the end they took away his victory with fraud, so you see, it's a pattern).
They told the story of ALL the presidents who have governed the country, since the country was literally unified and even when they reached the end they said that the results would be known shortly
Outside, in the voting centers, the results were being recorded by the same citizens, they all had the majority of votes for Edmundo González by A LOT, and in almost all the states.
Here things only went from bad to worse. When voting, there is a tradition called taking care of the boxes. The boxes are those that have all the votes from the voting center to which they belong, the votes are counted in the centers in front of witnesses from the people, the results are stated and then those results are sent in minutes to the national electoral council. María Corina urged people to take care of their votes, to stay in the centers so that they could see clearly what they were doing with the boxes once the voting closed. Around 8, 9 pm the vast majority of the states had reported Edmundo as the winner, several went out to celebrate in the streets and the voters continued to wait patiently and calmly outside the voting centers.
One of the biggest political figures in our country and the biggest spoiled son of a bitch here started talking on TV From where his people were celebrating, as in all votes, their Victory without even finishing giving out the results.
And I think I knew what hate is that corrupts, burns and boils in the blood, because while that man was speaking, in one of the states where they were celebrating, the "collectives" arrived. The collectives are another military branch which is at the same time independent of the country's own militia, and that is known to be led by said political figure, they are known for committing crimes And not suffer the consequences, so when they get to a place, it doesn't mean anything good.
They killed a man, and began to attack the people who were there, and this began to happen in several states, they took the militia out into the streets, they began to fight with the people, armed soldiers against young and old women, against people who were just celebrating damn it, while the fucking son of a bitch said on television that it was a night to celebrate in peace the absolute victory of the political party
#venezuelan politics#venezuelan problems#venezuela#venezuelan#politics#maría corina machado#edmundo gonzález
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
[Fic] Lightshow
It's 6:56 am and I've just finished this, not even read it over once, but it got me over the 65k line, so I'm just going to put it up here and revise it later!
This will be another year that @alex51324 and the Island saved my output levels. XD
Worth noting: I have never actually seen the northern lights. Like most such phenomenon, "They'll be visible in your area!" inevitably means "On the other side of the famous, Seattle overcast!" The only time I know they were actually visible was this past October, and since I had to go to work the next day and figured it would be a standard "oops! Haha! Weather interference!" situation, I slept through it. These descriptions were written based entirely on about an hour's worth of reading "what seeing the northern lights in person" articles and watching similar videos. Bless the guy who included a still of "How it looks to the naked eye when it first starts up" in his vid.
-
“Why are we out here?” Gordon groused, pulling his coat around himself and pressing up against Thomas. It was damn cold, so Thomas didn’t particularly mind the extra heat.
“Because Mr Braceridge and a couple of the new fellows insist that something special is going to happen tonight, and you wanted to try your hand at writing an article,” Thomas replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was wearing gloves, of course, but the cold worked through them. He was pretty certain his nose was going to be frost bitten by the time he got to bed. Why was it the clearer the sky, the colder it was? “So Kit gave you this one.”
Gordon gave a disgusted sigh. “A’right, I suppose that’s fair. But what’re you doing out here?”
Keeping you from running scared from the dark and taking notes, so if your article’s unusable, we’ll have a backup, Thomas thought, although he didn’t say it out loud. Gordon’s reading had got better over the last two years, as had his writing, but all of the Beacon’s older staff were a bit sceptical of his ability to pull off an article, to say the least. “Because I’m nice and thought you might like some company.”
There was no response to that, although the younger man did lean into him a bit more. Funny how his aversion to being touched was inversely proportionate to his desire to get warm. “Then why isn’t Kit out here?”
This time Thomas said exactly what he was thinking. “Because he’s a hypocritical little sod who will shove anything he doesn’t want to do off on other people.” It might have been a bit unfair to the paper’s other proprietor, but given that Kit was at home in bed while he and Gordon were freezing their arses off in the cow pasture waiting for something to happen in the sky, he wasn’t feeling overly charitable.
Admittedly, the sky was lovely. Even in the middle of rural Yorkshire Thomas didn’t think he’d ever seen as many stars. A few feet off, Mr Braceridge was giving a lecture on the constellations to some of the other people who had elected to come stand in the field staring at the sky. But it was also bloody cold and he was well aware that he could be asleep right then. Even Richard had declined on joining them.
“Wots this thing we’re supposed to be seeing anyway?” Gordon asked, craning his neck upward. They’d brought electric torches and a few lamps out with them so they didn’t get lost or break their neck in the dark, but those had all been turned off.
“They’re called the aurora borealis,” Thomas informed him. “Also known as the northern lights.”
“Wot are they, then?”
Thomas shrugged. “I dunno’. Some sort of…light in the sky. I don’t know why it happens at all, but I bet ol’ Braceridge could talk your ear off about it.”
Gordon didn’t seem at all inclined to go and ask the scout master anything. “You ever seen it, then?”
“No, but you hear about it.”
There was a moment of thoughtful silence and then. “How do they know we’re going to see them?”
“I’m not certain they do,” Thomas sighed, not exactly pleased with the answer. The doubt was strengthened by Kit’s absence. “From what I gather someone got an almanac, that’s a book that predicts the weather and growing seasons and such, and something in it made Braceridge think there was a good likelihood.”
“Wot do we do if we don’t see them?” the boy demanded, clearly as pleased by the notion of coming out to the pasture on a fool’s errand.
“That’s easy.” Thomas shrugged. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could see his breath in the starlight. “We murder Kit for sending us out here to freeze our arses off at bloody one am for no reason.”
Gordon gave an amused sort of snort, but didn’t say anything. They lapsed into silence again. After several minutes, the younger man asked, “When’s the sun come up, then?”
Thomas’s first response was to pull out his watch, but the moon was dark, so he’d have to turn on the torch to see it and he might get scolded. “Not for hours yet, I would imagine.”
“Then wot’s that then?”
“What’s what?” Thomas asked, looking around in confusion.
“That light, over there.” Gordon pushed on his shoulder to give direction.
Thomas turned and frowned. There was, in fact, a light on the horizon, much like the light of predawn. The only problem was that it was far too early for dawn, and it was in the wrong direction. He squinted. On second though, the thing looked sort of like a glowing cloud. “I’m not certain…” He puzzled a second, then called. “Hey, Braceridge! What’s that light over there? To the north?”
There was a sudden buzz of excitement from the assembly and a jubilant cry from the scout master. “It’s them! It’s starting! Oh, well spotted Mr Barrow!”
Thomas blinked, then stared at the light. “That’s…it? That’s what we came out here for?”
“I’m going to murder Kit!”
“Now, now, chaps,” a cultured voice from somewhere to their left chuckled. Thomas placed it with Captain Smythe, a former naval officer who’d arrived on the island not long after they’d finished the building the expansion. “I know it’s not much to look at yet, but it’s just getting going. With a bit of luck, we’ll get a good show.”
“Have you seen these things before?” Gordon demanded with his usual disregard for rank or class.
“Oh yes,” the Captain replied, completely unruffled. Thomas supposed that military was military, so the Captain was probably used to courser manners than a London street rat had. “I’ve done a few tours up north to the arctic. This might be all we get, bad luck if it is, but there are nights the entire crew just went out and stared at the sky for upward of ten minutes.”
If he meant to raise Gordon’s hopes, he failed. “It only lasts ten minutes?”
“Sometimes less than that, actually, but I promise you, a good aurora is worth coming out in the dark and the cold.”
Gordon’s only response was an unconvinced ‘hmph’.
Thomas watched the horizon. The pale wash of white was certainly nothing like the descriptions of the northern light’s he’d ever heard. It did seem to be moving, maybe, at least a little bit. Then again, that might have been his imagination.
Time dragged on. The group of men continued to simply stand in the field and stare. Thomas was beginning to feel like a priceless ass when he realised the light was doing something. It was happening so slowly and subtly that he’d missed it at first, but it was definitely moving now, back and forth like a snake. It also, unless he was imagining things again, coming closer to them.
He frowned and waited.
“Right then,” Mr Braceridge announced into the darkness. “We should be getting colour soon! Keep your eyes peeled!”
Thomas was sceptical right up until the green actually appeared. At first it was just a flicker here or there, but it slowly spread until the line of lights flashed green and white like fireworks. The waving became more pronounced too, and it steadily got brighter. Soon the whole ribbon was mostly green, although there was still some white in there. “Alright,” Thomas admitted. “That’s more impressive.”
Gordon grumbled. “Still don’t know if it was worth getting up f-oh!” Suddenly there was a flicker of purple amid the white and green. As soon as the first flicker appeared, there were more, and soon the entire sky was lit up by the ribbon of light. More ribbons appeared as well, not as bright, but little ghosts or echos of the main ribbon off to the sides.
Thomas had to remind himself to breathe.
A few minutes later, the sky was black again. Thomas stared into the darkness, wondering if he’d somehow imagined the whole thing.
“Wooee!” Someone whistled. “That was a show, weren’t it?” As if the exclamation were permission, the entire group broke out in excited chattering, like a group of insects on a summer night.
“Well, chaps, what did you think?” the Captain’s voice asked. “A bit better than the start promised, eh?”
“Much,” Thomas admitted, still awed. “Although I don’t think that was ten minutes.”
“No,” the other man agreed. “More like three, I’d say. But still, you don’t always get that much colour, so I’d call even a minute worth it.”
“Yeah.” Thomas shook his head, still trying to believe what he’d just seen. He suddenly realised Gordon hadn’t said anything. “Oi, Gordon. What’d you think?”
For a moment, there was no response. Finally, in an awed voice, the younger man said, “I will never question Mr Braceridge’s sanity again.”
Thomas laughed at that and ruffled Gordon’s hair. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
#downton abbey#thomas barrow#downton abbey fanfiction#fanfiction#island of the gays#aurora borealis#northern lights#terrance gordon
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi just wanted to say thank you for taking the time to thoughtfully respond to these anon messages. I work in dc w a fairly wonky set and i cant overstate how haunted the DC Professional Thought Havers are by the spectre of the "low propensity voter." I think these ppl (myself included LOL) thought we had everything figured out ahead of the 2016 elections and then never recovered from the way it ended up going......i feel like in all the years that followed.....the liberal bubbles.....the coastal elites.......the hillbilly elegies......the real america....the ohio diners....the pennsylvania diners.......the polls......the 2020 horserace....while part of an earnest attempt to understand What Happened, were primarily self-indulgent, self-flagellation for being "out of touch" bc of a self-diagnosed "elite" status that then turned into ANOTHER myopic view of the world, just opposite, where the "libs" are hapless and everyone else remotely to the left are primarily victims to the unstoppable supernatural forces of the Right. Then in 2020 the narrative flipped AGAIN and once again, instead of taking the opportunity to expand a worldview and having the bravery to confront their own shortcomings, the opinion havers and wonks and beltway pressers have decided to groupthink their way into writing off democracy altogether. Its BEYOND frustrating to see! Like damn volunteer at a soup kitchen or smthn instead of being obsessed w the fact that i vote lol
Yes, and there are several reasons for that. First, despite all the factors that contributed to Trump's shock win in 2016 (anti-Clintonism, white backlash to Obama, general low voter enthusiasm, Russian disinformation, etc) we should never forget that until James Comey decided to announce 10 days before the election that he was reopening the EEEEEEEMAILS case, even though we all knew there was nothing there, she was leading fairly comfortably in the polls. And while we will never know how the 2016 election would have gone without that, which imho was one of the most unforgivable acts of blatant sabotage by a public official in American history, it's also true that we saw her poll averages start sliding almost in real time, as people who hadn't really been keen on voting for her anyway decided firmly not to and Trump was able to scrape out 16,000 votes across PA, MI, and WI to take the Electoral College. Which... we all remember how we felt that night, right? (Or in my case, early morning, since I was overseas?) We don't, we really, really don't want to feel that way again. Just saying.
As such, the media (which had already beat up Clinton nonstop during the BUT HER EEEEEMAILS saga) drastically overcorrected and as you say, began writing endless angsty handwringing pieces about Trump Voters in Rural Ohio Diners and giving endless sympathetic airtime to how "economically left behind" they felt, regardless of the fact that open racism, especially Obama backlash, was and remains the principal animating feature of Republican politics (since their only economic platform is that which makes very rich people even richer and Democratic economic policies are the only ones actually targeted at helping ordinary people). The hangover was so strong that even when Democrats had a massive 2018 midterm result and flipped the House blue for the first time since the post-ACA backlash lost it in 2010, the Conventional Wisdom was now beyond any doubt that Democrats were doomed for a generation or something, and not that Trump had squeaked out a fluky win (while losing the popular vote) due to endless Russian/Comey/third party-etc interference and wasn't actually that powerful. Even in 2020 when Biden was leading fairly steadily and things were going to hell with Covid, etc. etc. TRUMP IS UNSTOPPABLE, TRUMP IS GOING TO WIN.
(And now. Like. I know Trump thinks Trump won in 2020, as do a large majority of his cultists, but that doesn't mean he did.)
Even after that, when Roe went down in 2022, that made no difference to the RED WAVE COMING!!! narrative, and the amount of smug white male pundits insisting that abortion just wasn't very important and people weren't going to base their entire vote on it reached truly disgusting levels. We're now seeing the same thing with the constant "people won't vote for democracy and/or abortion rights" blast, when as you say, this narrative has just been completely made the fuck up by a lot of groupthinking DC media who are determined that this time, Trump really is going to win and then they get to be principled chroniclers in opposition or something. Not to mention, the basic principle of "democracy and abortion rights are good" do in fact win by thumping margins every time they're on the ballot, including in deep red states. But there is literally not a single piece of empirical evidence despite the massive amounts of it supporting the truth (i.e. that Democrats are doing historically well in competitive elections since 2018 and there's not really a major reason to think this will change in 2024) that will get the media to change the "Democrats in disarray and Biden Iz Doomed" horserace BS they so love. They don't like Biden because he's boring and competent and just does the job without being insane, because it's totally a great idea to treat American government like a reality show! (Recall the infamous comment by the CBS CEO who literally said that Trump was bad for America but great for CBS, because he pulled in high ratings and therefore lots of money and visibility for CBS. We live in the worst timeline.)
As such, the mainstream media has a vendetta against Biden, is determined that this time Trump is super definitely going to win and everyone will see how genius they are, and not-so-secretly wants Trump back because a) he's good for money and ratings, and b) because the media conglomerations are owned by oligarchs who have a vested interest in making sure that Democrats and their policies never get too popular. Notice how the once self-proclaimed centrist independent Elon Musk has turned into a rabidly alt-right fanboy ever since the Democrats really got serious about taxing billionaires as a key part of their platform. Likewise, insisting that Biden Iz Doomed makes Democrats nervous (and thus more likely to tune in) and Republicans gleeful (and thus more likely to tune in), so there's literally no incentive for the media to even try to report things accurately. You could create a very different narrative of the 2024 election if you just remotely bothered to write about things that have actually happened as they have actually taken place, rather than bending over backward to insist that Biden being four years older than Trump is a worse crime than 91 felony indictments, 2 impeachments, 1 insurrection, 450 million dollars and counting in punitive jury verdicts, more major criminal trials coming down the pipe, and just demonstrably being the worst human being alive in so many ways. I mean. Wow.
The good news, as I said in my other post, is that when people actually vote, these utter bullshit narratives get routinely blown out of the water, and that's a good thing. Because it turns out that unlike Super Smart Beltway Pundits' Super Smart Predictions, the average American does actually like democracy and freedom for women to make their own personal healthcare decisions, and they vote accordingly. So while yes, it's being made harrowingly much harder than it needs to be because of how much the media simply refuses to report that basic fact, and there is no amount of evidence that will convince them otherwise, at least we're trending in the right direction and, if we all pull our weight, can do it one more time. I realized the other day that I hadn't heard a fucking peep about Ron DeSantis in the last two months, and oh, how glorious it was. I yearn beyond words for the day (God willing, soon) when the same is true of Trump as well.
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
Olga Lautman at Unmasking Russia:
In just over two weeks, Trump has crippled U.S. national security, delivering massive wins to Russia, China, North Korea, and Iran. One radical move after another, he has dismantled America’s defenses against foreign interference, corruption, and election meddling—deliberately exposing the U.S. to attack—while simultaneously waging war on our law enforcement and national security agencies. By unraveling critical national security protections, Trump has signaled to adversaries that the U.S. will no longer actively counter their influence. These moves not only endanger America’s electoral integrity but also open the door for authoritarian regimes to expand their control and further infiltrate key institutions with impunity.
Dismantling America’s Defenses: A Direct Gift to Russia
One of Attorney General Pam Bondi’s first acts was to disband the FBI’s Foreign Influence Task Force, a unit dedicated to countering adversarial interference in U.S. politics. Created after Russia’s attack on the 2016 election, the task force investigated foreign hacking, cyberattacks, election infrastructure breaches, and influence operations—including on social media. Now? Russia, China, and Iran have free rein to attack U.S. elections with barely any FBI oversight. Bondi also gutted enforcement of the Foreign Agents Registration Act (FARA)—ensuring that foreign political operatives can work in America without disclosure or consequence. This means that lobbyists, political influencers, and even disinformation agents working on behalf of foreign governments can now operate freely within the U.S. without fear of repercussions. The removal of these enforcement mechanisms effectively greenlights covert foreign influence on U.S. lawmakers, policies, and political campaigns.
[...]
If You Think It Stops There—Nope.
Bondi also shifted enforcement of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act (FCPA), a key tool for targeting bribery and illicit financial networks. By deprioritizing white-collar crime and corruption cases, her office has effectively signaled to foreign entities that violations will no longer be aggressively prosecuted. This move will embolden corrupt officials, business figures, and oligarchs to engage in unchecked financial manipulation, further entrenching foreign influence in critical sectors of the U.S. economy. [...]
USAID Shutdown: Our Adversarie Dream
And all of this while Trump has also shuttered USAID, one of the U.S.’s strongest tools for countering authoritarian influence abroad. USAID has been essential in stabilizing fragile states, promoting democracy, providing life-saving humanitarian aid, and blocking Russian and Chinese expansionism. By shutting it down, Trump has given autocratic regimes free rein to dominate vulnerable nations. Without USAID, U.S. allies will be defenseless against foreign influence. Russia and China will expand unchecked, filling the void with economic coercion and military partnerships. Countries in Africa, Latin America, and Eastern Europe will lose resources to resist foreign domination, making them easy targets for authoritarian control, corruption, and manipulation. [...]
Trump’s National Security Purge
All this is happening as Trump continues an further assault on America’s intelligence infrastructure and is pushing buyout offers to the FBI, CIA, NSA, and other national security agencies, aiming to purge career officials and replace them with loyalists. These potentially illegal forced exits will cripple intelligence operations at a time of heightened global threats.
Great column by Olga Lautman on how Donald Trump’s two-plus weeks of his 2nd term has been a gift to America’s enemies.
#National Security#Donald Trump#Pam Bondi#Elon Musk#Musk Coup#Trump Administration II#FARA#Foreign Agents Registration Act#National Intelligence#FBI#Foreign Corrupt Practices Act#USAID#CIA#NSA#Olga Lautman
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
inspired by a kind of ongoing conversation in the comments of @beifong-brainrot's posts and also @katkastrofa's Adumbration, I'm writing a snippet from my general "Vaatu Survives" AU - this one is Korra Alone but not really because vaatu is there being a menace
(snippet-thing below! right now im just taking canon and slightly altering it but i'll add in other things later.)
"There's something I need to tell you both."
They were sitting in Senna and Tonraq's dining room. It was two years since Korra had left Republic City, and since Vaatu had quietly joined her to try and help seek out Raava.
"What is it?" Tonraq asked his daughter. There was an air of unease - there always was, with worry saturating the atmosphere constantly. Vaatu supposed he couldn't blame the older couple for being concerned, but she could also understand how Korra felt suffocated by it at times. She would hate being doted on like this.
"I want to go back to Republic City," Korra announced. Her voice wavered, slightly - she wasn't sure if her parents would approve.
They exchanged a glance between them, clearly less than enthused at the idea. "Are you sure?" Senna asked gently.
"I know I'm not at a hundred percent yet, but I feel like I've hit a wall. I need to be where the action is." Korra offered a small smile. "Where my friends are."
Vaatu saw argument rise in her parents, concerns - What if you're not up to it yet? What if something happens? The Earth Kingdom is so unstable right now, and you're still a very public figure, and - and interjected softly. "With all respect," she said. "I agree with Korra. Being alone here has never been particularly helpful to her in the past, and she has to take charge of her own recovery at some point. I think we should listen."
Tonraq furrowed his brow slightly. "I wasn't necessarily going to say no…" He turned to smile encouragingly at Korra. "I'll have the White Lotus prepare a boat for you as soon as you're ready."
"No," Korra shook her head. "I want to go alone and have some time to clear my head."
And so arrangements were made, and the next morning, Korra stood on a small boat and bid her parents goodbye. Vaatu was made to go with her (he suspected they were rather tired of him and wanted him to leave) and Korra accepted, though somewhat grudgingly.
"Please don't interfere."
"I would never." Vaatu looked back at the rapidly shrinking dock where her parents and the polar-bear-dog stood, still waving. "Wherever you would like to go is your choice, I'm simply here in case we find Raava or your boat capsizes."
Korra gave her a slightly incredulous smile. "I don't need help with my boat."
"Wonderful. I despise boats." Vaatu let herself expand into spirit form and tipped backwards into the water, electing to swim circles around it as it moved.
It didn't take long, in the grand scheme of things, for them to reach a tiny port village on a tropical island. It had been a couple of weeks now, out on the boat, with Korra meditating quietly when the waters were calm and Vaatu occasionally disappearing to explore the surrounding waters and sky.
Here, they docked, Korra immediately disembarking to find fresh food and Vaatu reluctantly taking on a human form in order to help. It took a moment to readjust to how his legs worked, after the weeks of swimming and flying alone in her true form.
Korra spotted a small vendor's stand, with a man sitting in it and lazily fanning himself. It didn't sell the kind of food that she would need to restock, but at least she could grab a snack.
"Two-" She glanced back at Vaatu, who was kicking away a piece of seaweed and looking disgruntled. "- Four lobster-crabs, please."
The man looked up at her and his face almost immediately lit up. "Why, you're the Avatar!"
She had almost forgotten she'd be getting this treatment. Almost. "Yep, that's me," Korra said flatly.
#vaatu#legend of korra#korra#tlok fanfic#(vaatu uses she/he pronouns in this dont be confused by that)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Ma'am," the synthetic voice sounded from behind her, "this one requires maintenance."
She sighed, and swiveled her chair around. "What is it this time," she asked dryly, "another fridge magnet stuck to your chassis? Another spider in your wires, somehow?"
The drone before her had the sensibility to appear chagrined. "apologies, Miss, nothing like that this time." It held up its lower left arm, or what remained of it. The entire length was crushed and twisted like it was tinfoil, fluids dribbling from fractures in the metal.
She made an angry noise, an instinctual reaction to seeing her work destroyed.
"What happened," she growled, already selecting tools from the various cases around her workstation.
"minor malfunction in the processing chamber," the drone answered neutrally.
Her scowl tore into the drone. "And why wasn't I informed of this?" she hissed.
"this one elected to tell you personally as it was already on route, and the issue was minor," the drone said apologetically. "it's already been resolved, with this one being the only actual damage."
the mechanic huffed, holding something thin between her teeth as she removed her light jacket. "C'mere," she grunted around the tool in her mouth.
The drone obliged, maneuvering into position on its back on her workstation, its left side facing her.
She took the tool out of her mouth and plugged it into something, her other hands still moving nonstop as she prepared to work.
She paused with her thumb on a switch. "You know this is gonna hurt?" she asked, looking down at the drone's faceplate.
"yes, this o—"
The drone didn't finish before she flipped the switch and a white-hot light at the tip of the tool severed its shoulder joint like it wasn't there.
The drone screamed with a broken, synthetic noise, a sawtooth wave rubbed the wrong way against a square.
She grinned at the sound. "You drones think you're so invincible, until you have to come crawling back to me," she said, picking at something internal with a sharp tool.
The drone's scream was fluctuating. With no need to breathe, there was no panting, no breaks in the sound.
"But like you say, the job is its own reward, you know," she continued, barely audible over the noises she was extracting from the drone. Her hands switched tools again, this one eliciting a high-pitched whine from her patient.
"This is gonna take a while, you know. Another couple hours."
The drone, barely capable of staying still on the table, turned its head to the mechanic. "can—can—can—" it stuttered, attempting to speak despite the continuing work.
She smirked, still not stopping, and put her face an inch away from the drone's.
"Can what? Hmmm?" she teased.
She jabbed something into the drone's side that made it hiss with white noise, akin to a gasp, then leaned back in her chair, stopping for a moment.
"Something to say?" she asked, still smirking.
The drone tried to speak, processors still too scrambled for complete sentences.
"can—c—this one? please? please?" the drone managed, every word garbled with interference.
"Hmm? Your advanced drone functionality has finally managed to figure out I'm a little pent up, huh?" she said, almost growling.
The drone's arm flailed on the table, and its head twitched in a way that could be construed as a nod.
"You want to please me? Take off your visor," she demanded, her smirk becoming a sadistic leer.
The drone complied, removing its visor with a twitching arm.
The mechanic stepped from the chair to the table in one movement. She unbuckled her belt and let her pants drop, the many pouches and tools clacking against the surface.
Before the drone could stare, she dropped her hips.
"Get pleasing," she growled, and switched on another tool.
The drone didn't hesitate, though the only visible sign was the mechanic's scowl fading slightly. She didn't tremble or pause as she got right back to her repair work, the drone's screams muffled between her legs.
#microfiction#short fiction#original fiction#a story#minor maintenance#empty spaces#her voice in the dark
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Still solidifying the relationship between Starscream and Megatron for my au
I don't know the fine details of it yet, But I know I don't want to go the 'Starscream gets pimpslapped for every small mistake' route
I rather go for like the corrupt military official route, who may very well be sabotaging his own affiliation in order to have it's people turn against their leader, and elect him, the one who supposedly knew Megatron didn't have to steel for leadership all along, as new ruler (Also known as Starscream talking sweet in Megatron's face and talking shit about him when he isn't around.)
Soundwave and his cassettes are spared Starscream backstabbing musings, his loyalty to Megatron and the decepticon cause poses a threat to Starscreams plans
I also like to think Starscream wants to lead based off of the idea of being loved/feared by all, being seen as a revolutionary like Megatron, untouchable like him too, though he usually lacks the compassion to be the kind of leader Megatron started out as, the compassion Megatron has slowly but surely lost.
I also like to think another part of it is the idea of 'if I can just get x thing I'll be good enough' or 'if I can just get x thing I'll be happy', he's tunnel visioned onto ruling the decepticons as his object of happiness, he assumes the role comes with power, respect, and safety, but never considers factors like maximizing your troops survival or an end goal *if* the decepticons ever manage to truly trump the autobots.
He wants the power, but he has no righteous goal he wishes to see through, he has no guilt for those weaker than him because he was never fighting for them, only for the chance of being the one on the throne and calling the shots, to be the one wearing the crown
I can't imagine if they (the cons) win Starscream will be satisfied, there will always be a bigger fish, such leadership won't make him happy so there will always be another 'x thing' for him to pursue, it will never end unless he changes his goals entirely.
He isn't in the cons to make a difference, he's there to highjack what power and notoriety Megatron has achieved with his own two hands by soaring straight to the top with little effort besides his manipulation. He works hard but he works hard for his own interests and nothing more, he figures he's done being used and he has the right to use everyone else, like some twisted sense of vengeance
I like to think only after Starscream manages to kill off most of the decepticon ranks does Megatron's trust in him waver, even if he doesn't say anything to Starscreams face, he knows of the whisperings Starscream spreads about him (he's been told many a time to ensure the loyalty of his second in command by other cons, hes not nearly as sneaky as he thinks he is) But Megatron keeps him close to keep an eye on him, to keep him sharp in the face of fake friends, and to utilize what resourcefulness Starscream does posses.
This is why plans may be made or revised in the absence of Starscream, his second in command left out of the loop to make it more difficult for him to orchestrate decepticon failures. He knows of plan A, But not plan B Through Q, the backups Incase something interferes, autobot or traitor.
Though Megatron does bestow him with 'decepticon hospitality', the base layer of hostility all decepticons treat eachother with, he doesn't particularly aim his frustration at him, he more sees his disloyalty as a challenge, a way to keep his processor on its toes and to expect every bad thing.
His punishment may come in the forms of suicide missions, but the wonder that is Starscream always returns from them, bruised, beaten, maybe missing a few operatives assigned to him, maybe even dead. But he always returns
That's all for now, I'm still thinking about it, thanku for coming to my Ted talk
21 notes
·
View notes